The Five Princes - Preview

Chapter 2.5

I sat at the dining table, head spinning.

Princess? I couldn't be a princess. That didn't make any sense. Dad was a businessman. Mom was a fashion designer. They weren't royal people.

"And now I'd like to introduce you all to a special guest," the tour guide said. "Someone I'm sure you'll all be thrilled to meet in person."

I looked up. She wasn't talking about me, right? This was all a prank. I looked for cameras in the ceiling.

"May I introduce to you His Highness, Prince Nikos!"

The girls in the tour group gasped as a tall figure entered the room. One even screamed. Some stood to their feet, while others froze to their chairs. The men were just as excitable, pulling out their phones to take pictures.

That's why I knew that name. Prince Nikos — also known as the World's Prince.

The World's Prince was famous for his humanitarian projects, his elegant style, and his humble personality. The media used his nickname more than his real name, referring to him as every woman's dream prince.

He stood at the edge of the table, giving the bright smile that I had seen from time to time on TV. It was strange to see it in person. His dark hair was pulled to the side in a wave exactly like all his media appearances, as if it was glued that way. But he was much thinner than I imagined he would be, with narrower shoulders and waist. The fantasy of the World's Prince and the reality of the skinny teenager in front of me jarred.

"Hello, everyone!" he said, his voice as bright as his face. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. I'll be your host this evening. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course we don't mind!"

"I love you, Prince Nikos!"

"I named my labradoodle after you!"

He smiled at the comments, his face glowing. "Would anyone like to take some pictures?"

A bunch of girls screamed and ran up to him, handing their phones to the tour guide. I knew he was a few years younger than I was, but his face was even more youthful than I remembered from the news. On the flip side, there was a sharpness in his eyes and his smile that reminded me of the criminal mugshots I saw in the segments right after.

His sharp lips curled up as he bowed to me. The other guests turned to look at me, as confused as I was.

One of the guests hopped over to me and tapped my arm. "Don't you want a picture?"

Before I could respond, the tourist pulled me out of my seat and brought me over to the prince.

He looked down at me, cocking an eyebrow. "You want a picture too?"

I looked up at him, trying to figure out the right words to say. I never had this problem when meeting celebrities at concerts when Dad got me backstage passes.

I never did ask how he got those.

"Sure," was all I could come up with.

He snorted, taking the phone out of my hand and giving it to the tour guide.

"You're shorter than I imagined," he said.

"What?"

He leaned down, draping his arm around my shoulder and leaning his head against mine. The rest of the girls squealed at the gesture, but I leaned my head to the other side.

"Personal space," I muttered.

"Look at the camera, Princess," he replied.

My stomach dropped. He grinned. I frowned.