“What kind of name is ‘Nap’?” asks Anne, clearly unamused. Her thumb makes little swirls in her cup–an anxious habit she picked over years of afternoon teas. “Truly suspicious. He’s got to be a kidnapper. Or at least a prankster. What if he’s a psycho?”

Standing in between our little tea party, Raphael—my soon-to-be brother-in-law—smirks at me, little glint in his brown eyes. “Could be a Napoleon.”

“Who'd name their kid Napoleon?” she snaps at her lover, her loose French braid dangling to her left. Even when she raised her voice, I could see the softness in her green eyes, her concern in her flawless princess gestures. She has always been the restless one between the two of us, given our nine years age difference, but even though my big sister is adopted, her affection is not. In older days I let them swayed me, but I’m twenty now. And Nap is the closest to real that I’ve ever felt. Not going to let it go before I give it a chance.

“I don’t know. He seemed genuine.”

Anne rolls her eyes. “You chatted once.”

“It’s not about the quantity and you know it.” They should know it. I mean, Raphael basically saved Anne’s ass from actual kidnappers at first date–that’s how he’s knighted by Uncle Isaac. It’s been eight years and they’re holding their engagement ball this Saturday. So, of all people, they should know it.

Anne gives a little smile. “Fair. But Raphael is the name of an angel. No angels’ named Nap.”

“Oh, come on!” I throw my hands in the air, frustrated. What is it that she’s so unsatisfied with? I’ve finally had a real shot in true love! Sure, it’s not as ideal as her Disney princess stories, but I’m no Cinderella, okay? I’m a crown princess, heir apparent to my gay uncle King Isaac, and note this: I didn’t even say it in a passive-aggressive tone! It’s a huge responsibility to carry, burden if I may, if my parents weren’t long dead, I’d shake a kid brother out of them. Yet here I am, so I can’t exactly be picky, can I? Not everyone would sacrifice their life even for their loved one, and I completely understand if they wouldn’t want to.

I know nothing’s set in stone, and he could be just another dancing prince (my and Anne’s way to call all the princes that come and go in my life), but he didn’t seem to be intimidated by my title. It’s a new change, at the very least.

“Let’s give him a chance.” said Raphael softly. Anne gives him a look, but he just stares back at her lovingly. “I kind of got this similar vibe from him that I get from Jenny.”

Huh? “What vibe?”

“Like your titles burden you.”

I was speechless for a long minute. “I-it’s not, I assure you.” While the truth is otherwise, I know better than to admit it in front of my subjects. Guilt-tripping is the lowest of the low.

“Sure.” Raphael smiles at me knowingly and leaves it at that. Sometimes I believe he is an angel by the way he carries himself. Until he catches Anne’s concerned face and decides to offer, “Oh, love. Would it ease your mind if a certain knight were to accompany the crown princess in her date?”

Jinxed it, haven’t I just?

“No!” I hurriedly cut Anne’s train of thoughts before it reaches to one ridiculous conclusion. “Anne, that would be plain humiliating.”

For a little while, Anne looks like she's debating herself before finally says, “Invite him to our lunch. Thursday?”

“Deal.”