Page 53 of His Royal Matchmaker

“Yeah, and here’s where it gets interesting,” Nova continues. “When I mentioned the general timeline of your current job, he said they might be willing to push back the production start date, but only by a few weeks. This is a big opportunity, Em. Like, career-changing big.”

I get up and start pacing again, my mind whirling with possibilities. “A dating-show host…”

“Not just any dating show. This would be prestige television with a massive budget and international distribution. You’d be reaching millions of people, not just the select few who can afford your services.”

The thought is both exhilarating and terrifying. “But I’d have to be on camera. People would recognize me.”

“Yes, and they’d pay you obscene amounts of money for the privilege. Plus, think about the book deals, the speaking engagements, the product endorsements. This could set you up for life, Em.”

She’s right. This kind of opportunity doesn’t come along every day. And the timing… it almost feels like a sign. A way out of my current predicament that doesn’t involve professional disgrace or watching the man I’m falling for marry someone else. With such a great excuse to bail out on the royal job early, who wouldn’t take it?

I’ve done so much here already — surely the queen will understand?

“What should I do?” I ask, though part of me already knows the answer.

“I can’t tell you that. But Icantell you that, as your friend and occasional publicist, this is the kind of opportunity most people only dream about. And as someone who loves you and wants you to be happy, I think you need to ask yourself if staying in Marzieu is going to bring you joy or heartbreak.”

I sink onto the window seat, looking out at the palace grounds again. In the distance, I can see Hugo walking with his security detail, his posture straight and regal even from afar. My heart does a little flip just at the sight of him.

“What if it’s both?” I whisper.

“Then you have a really tough choice to make,” Nova says. “But maybe it helps to know you have options. You’re not trapped, Emily.”

Three paths stretch before me: fulfill my contract and watch Hugo marry someone else; confess my feelings and risk professional ruin and/or Hugo playing me and breaking my heart; or take the TV offer and leave Marzieu behind.

My fingers find the gold pendant at my neck — a gift from my first successful couple. They had faith in my ability to find them love when they couldn’t find it themselves. I’ve always believed in my gift, my ability to see the connections between people that they sometimes can’t see themselves.

But I never expected to be on this side of the equation — the one needing guidance, the one with the messy feelings and impossible choices.

CHAPTER 22

HUGO

Istare at the same report I’ve been trying to read for twenty minutes, but the words keep swimming across the page like fish avoiding my attention. The palace is quiet this early, just the occasional soft footsteps of staff in the hallway and birds chirping outside my window. I should be focused on the agricultural proposal from the eastern province, but all I can think about is breakfast in thirty minutes with my mother and Emily — the woman who was supposed to find me a wife but instead stole my heart.

The leather chair creaks as I lean back, rubbing my eyes. My office suddenly feels too small, and I’m not sure what to do with myself.

I pick up a framed photo on my desk — my father and me sailing on his last birthday. His smile was already strained from the illness none of us knew about yet. What would he think of this mess I’ve created?

Pushing away from the desk, I walk to the window. The palace gardens stretch out below, gardeners already at work in the cool morning air. In thirty minutes, I’m supposed to sit across fromEmily at breakfast and tell her and my mother how wonderfully the matchmaking process is going. I’m supposed to lie.

The memory of our kiss floods back without warning — her surprised gasp against my lips, the brief moment she responded before her hands pressed against my chest, pushing me away. Her eyes wide with shock as she stepped back.

But what if we could make it work? The thought has been circling my mind for days now, gaining strength like a hurricane over warm waters. What if I simply told the truth? Admitted — not just to Emily, but really to myself — that I am ready for something I have never had before.

I turn back to my desk, energy suddenly coursing through me. Everyone loves a good romance, don’t they? Even in royal circles, there’s precedent. My third cousin married his secretary, and after the initial scandal died down, the public adored them.

Emily’s business wouldn’t need to suffer — it might even thrive.The matchmaker so good at her job, she accidentally matched herself with a prince.I can almost see the headlines. Her reputation for finding true compatibility would be cemented, not damaged.

I pace the length of my office, rehearsing what I’ll say at breakfast. I’ll be respectful but honest. I’ll make it clear this isn’t a whim or a game. Yes, I have been purposefully disrupting her attempts to match me with a woman, but that was something different. I know what I want now, and what I want is?—

Three quick knocks on the closed door interrupt my thoughts.

“Come in,” I call, expecting Maurice with the morning’s updated schedule.

Instead, Emily steps into my office, and my heart does that ridiculous skipping thing that makes me feel fifteen instead of nearly thirty-one. She’s dressed in a simple dress, her hair pulled back neatly, a tablet clutched in her hands like a shield. I start to smile, but then something about her expression makes my stomach twist.

“Emily,” I say, my voice sounding strange to my own ears. “Good morning. I was just… thinking about you.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I wince. So much for my well-rehearsed speech.

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