He needs a wife. She’s got a list.

 

CAROLINE

The entire kingdom of Sondmark is praying for their crown prince to stop chasing women and start securing the succession. It’s on me to find him someone suitable, which should be easy. It’s not like I’m trying to offload a troll. I consider the way he fills out a sharply tailored Armani suit, crouches in front of a document printer, and…and…

Excuse me. Where was I?

Oh yes. A wife for Crown Prince Noah. 

I maintain spreadsheets full of eligible maidens from the best families. Women with shipping wealth and hereditary titles. Women who don’t get unreasonably excited when the thrift store mislabels a brand-name cardigan.  

And I pray for the day he puts me—Sondmark—out of its misery and chooses someone to be his bride.

 

NOAH

After a disastrous attempt to date my mother’s secretary, I have spent years turning myself into the kind of man Caroline can respect—a prince who builds rather than breaks.

Does Caroline notice? She never lets me close enough to find out.

Then a chance assignment sends us to the sunny Mediterranean coast to heal a diplomatic breach. Alone. For two weeks, there are no cell phones, no royal agendas, and no curtsies. I could be smart, demonstrating that I can be a very good boy.

Or. 

Just hear me out.

I could try for her again.