Page 36 of Fake Dating the Prince

Flip met eyes with Brayden, and then they both looked away. Brayden felt like perhaps he shouldn’t have said that out loud, at least not with witnesses, though he couldn’t have put his finger on why.

And yet somehow they met eyes again afterward, and Flip smiled as he said, “I appreciate your outlook, Brayden. Well put.”

Brayden flushed at the unexpected praise—with an audience, to boot. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but fortunately he didn’t have to, as the operations manager motioned Flip to continue through the lab.

“We should be finished in a half an hour or so,” Flip said on his way out. “I’ll meet you in the lobby?”

Brayden nodded. “Okay. I trust Sam can get me there.”

“Of course.”

Flip and the manager left, but another scientist entered—a woman nearly as pale as her lab coat, with braided pigtails and goggles on the top of her head.

Sam waved her over. “Julia. Come over here.” He said something in Polish a little too fast for Brayden to catch.

Julia turned to Brayden. “You want to plant a diamond?”

It was the coolest tour ever.

BRAYDEN’Senthusiasm for the diamond factory made it very easy to invite him along for the rest of Flip’s commitments for the week.

“What’s on today’s agenda?” he asked Wednesday morning over their usual eggs, yogurt, and fruit.

“Barracks visit.” Flip looked up from his coffee in time to enjoy Brayden’s double-take.

“Really?”

“Like a lot of other European countries, Lyngria has mandatory military service. Well, you can choose civil service instead. I wasn’t allowed to join the military.”

“Too gay?” Brayden asked, head cocked.

“No, Mom sorted that before it became an issue. But they’re shockingly unwilling to let you serve in the military if you’re the first in line to the throne, especially if you don’t have any younger siblings. Even in peacetime.”

Brayden nodded and stirred his yogurt. “Makes sense. So you did civil service. Let me guess, in an embassy?”

Flip acknowledged this with a tilt of his head. “It seemed prudent.”

“Cool. So mandatory military service. Explain that to a liberal Canadian?”

He put his fork down and took a moment to gather his thoughts. “We’re a small country. And you may have noticed how large and close Russia is.”

“Fair.” Brayden traded yogurt for coffee. “How do the citizens find it?”

“Well, they’re paid. And they learn skills that are generally applicable outside the service. They have the option to defer until after university if that’s the course they want to take, or if they’re an elite-level athlete or what have you.”

At that Brayden sat back in his chair, his gaze calculating. “So job security and job training during what can be a really difficult transition time for young people. All right, that doesn’t sound draconian.”

Flip gave him a wry look. “I do my best.”

Unlike the mine, the next official visit involved PR, which meant they had a camera crew trailing them as they toured the facility. At first Brayden seemed distracted—he kept turning and watching them watch him, rather than paying attention to the tour. Flip supposed it would be a bit strange to someone who wasn’t used to it.

He elbowed Brayden as discreetly as he could. “Stop looking at the cameras.”

“Easy for you to say, Mr. My Dad Was a Movie Star Prince.” Brayden huffed, but he looked up at Flip instead of at the film crew, at least. “Some of us didn’t grow up under this much scrutiny. What if I get a wedgie?”

For a moment Flip had nothing to say. Then, “You do realize I have veto power over the footage released?”

That knocked the wind out of Brayden’s sails. “Oh thank God.” Then he glanced at Flip out of the corners of his eyes, coquettish and sly. “So hey. Want to really stick it to the paparazzi?”

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