First message
Julian was beginning to suspect a conspiracy.
There was no other explanation.
Three potential brides had ended their courtships.
One had requested to return home early.
Another could barely look him in the eye.
The third had somehow learned about the unfortunate fountain incident.
A story only a handful of people knew.
Julian stared at the stack of correspondence on his desk.
Then at the second stack.
The one containing a list of every person who had spoken to those women.
One name appeared on every page.
The princess.
A knock sounded at the door.
Julian looked up.
Perfect.
“Come in.”
The princess stepped inside.
Julian slid the papers across the desk.
Slowly.
Carefully.
“I have a question.”
A pause.
Then:
“Would you like to explain why every woman I’ve met this season suddenly knows embarrassing stories about my childhood?”