The Prince's Cinderella. Andrea Bolter

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      When she saw him tonight, should she tell him that she’d only just found out? Or should she let it remain unspoken as if it was something she’d already known? Nothing in her previous reference taught her protocol for this sort of thing.

      “His Highness Prince Zander de Nellay of Charlegin.” Marie said it out loud to try it on for size. He’d mentioned his homeland but not that his family were the rulers there!

      “It’s a small principality reigned over by a prince rather than a king. Surely you heard the news a year ago when Zander’s sister, Elise, who was the crown princess, and her husband were killed in a plane crash?”

      Once Felice began to explain, Marie vaguely remembered hearing about that tragedy on the news. At the time she hadn’t heard of Charlegin and had forgotten all about it. Royal comings and goings were of no interest to her. But she recalled the photo that had been shown on the news of Elise, a beautiful woman who, now that Marie thought about it, had those dark almond-shaped eyes the same as Zander.

      “Is there a specific reason the prince is affiliated with the APCF and chairing our gala?”

      “Alain really didn’t fill you in, did he? Princess Elise and her husband, Prince Valentin, had a baby girl. She was left an orphan. Zander has taken her in. Princess Abella de Nellay is the next heir to the Charlegin throne.”