Page 114 of Rags to Royals

That’s pretty princess-y to me.

“And hell,Cianisn’t exactly prince material,” someone else says.

I feel Cian chuckle next to me—feel it, versus hear it over all the other commotion in the room.

And I know he’s said basically the same thing. That I wouldn’t have tobea princess, exactly. And that he doesn’t live at the palace—which is more obvious now—and I know that Torin and Abigail have the official titles and responsibilities.

But…something about the way everyone also nods along to that sentiment, that everyone seems to just agree that Cian is veryunprincely, suddenly rubs me the wrong way.

Because what is a prince really?

Someone who takes care of others, who serves others, who leads. But leading doesn’t have to be with words. It can be by example.

Isn’t that what I’ve wanted to do in Emerald?Showthem that I’ve changed.Showthem how to live a good, honorable life.Showthem how to live by all the principles the church teaches rather than just preaching about it, guilting people into doing the right thing?Showpeople how to love, how to be generous, how to serve.

Mariah’s words come back to me from the night in my kitchen not even a week ago.

I’m talking about the amazing things we could do. And the people we’d get to know! Look at Abigail! Her indoor farms are going to feed so many kids! And Princess Fiona saves endangered animals! And Linnea is working on green energy projects! And even Princess Saoirse has started doing some work as a spokesperson for a youth climate change group!

All of them aredoingthings that, by any measure I would apply, show they are true servants and real leaders.

I suddenly blurt out, “Cian is absolutely a prince. He’s kind and generous and really wants to make other people’s lives better. He’s starting a charitable foundation. We’re going to run it together.”

Conversation stops and I feel Cian tense beside me.

I have no idea what they were talking about or what I interrupted. Maybe plans for Cian and Astrid’s wedding.

Well, too bad.

“Cian’s doingwhat?” Fiona asks.

I look at Cian. He’s looking at me with an expression that clearly sayswhat the hell are you doing?

I drop my hand to his thigh and squeeze, giving him a smile. Then I turn to Fiona.

“He’s starting a foundation. He’s been building communities for single moms all over the country. The first one is right here in New Orleans. The foundation is going to continue to support that project but we’re going to expand into other things as well.”

“Communities for single moms,” Fiona repeats. She looks at her brother. “What is this?”

Cian’s hand moves from the back of my chair to the back of my neck. He squeezes gently. I don’t know if it’s a gesture of happiness that I’ve agreed to do this with him, or a warning that I better not say anything more.

“It’s a project I put together after I met Scarlett.”

That’s all he says. Fiona’s brows lift. “What project?”

“Just a little thing Scarlett and I came up with.”

She looks back and forth between us.

I finally laugh. He said he didn’t want me being so quiet about things. I amnotkeeping my mouth shut about this. “It’snotlittle. And it’s amazing. I helped brainstorm the idea, but Cian made it all happen.” I feel a lightness fill me as I launch into a description of Scarlett Park.

Everyone at the table stays quiet throughout my explanation.

“There are others like it. All over.” I don’t really know where they all are. “And we’re going to establish more. And expand into other things.”

“Like what?” Fiona asks. She seems completely fascinated.

I shrug. “Whatever we find people need.”

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