Ann stops suddenly. She places a manicured hand against a pair of wide, double doors. Then she pushes.

“This one is yours.”

The lights are off, but the sun streams through floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the room, cutting through the darkness like a spotlight upon a stage. It’s fitting, I have to think. This is my great role, and I’m going to have to become a brand- new person in every way that really matters.

“Do you like it?” Ann asks. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, but I could almost swear that she sounds nervous, like she actually cares about the answer.

“It’s pretty,” I say, and that much is true.

“Grace. Is that all you have to say?” She flips a switch, and light fills the room, falling from a crystal chandelier that dangles from a ceiling that’s probably twenty feet tall. The walls are covered with silk. The bed is massive and canopied with lace. There’s an antique dresser, a vanity table, and a mirror. Every surface is covered with fresh flowers, and the hardwood floor is so polished that it shines.

“It’s the prettiest prison I have ever seen,” I say. It’s the only compliment I can muster at the moment.

Ann looks like maybe she wants to lecture me again, but she thinks better of it. I’m the textbook definition of lost cause, so she’s quiet as I walk to the tall windows and look out on the world outside.

“I really do hope you’ll be happy here, Grace. When I married the prince, I wasn’t prepared for this life. You will have a huge advantage, you see. By the time you are in my place, this will truly feel like home to you. Someday soon you won’t even remember what it felt like to live anywhere else.”

I’ve lived a lot of places—that’s the life of an army brat. None of them were a palace, and yet I’d trade this place for any of those in a heartbeat. But my deal has already been made and the devil stands behind me. It’s far too late to look back now.

“Yeah. Sure.” I force a smile. “Home, sweet home.”

“Hey, Mom, have you seen my—”

The words are in Adrian, and it’s a voice that I don’t know, but when I turn, I’m not entirely surprised by who is standing in my doorway.

His feet are bare and his hair is mussed, and overall the effect is undeniable. If I were the kind of girl who reads magazines or gossip sites, I’d probably be panting right about now. But I’m not that kind of girl.

I’m the girl he’s going to have to marry.

“Oh. Hello,” he says, switching to English.

I expect some kind of sly smile, maybe a roll of the royal eyes or something to show what he thinks of my situation—of me. But he doesn’t do any of those things. “So you’re the goddaughter.” He’s grinning as he says it. He actually steps forward, offers me his hand. “I’m the son.”

The prince, he means. The heir’s heir. Someday, this barefoot boy will wear the crown of Adria. And he’s the reason why I’m here.

“Darling, come in,” Ann tells him. “There’s someone I’d like for you to meet.”

I keep looking at the prince, trying to read his thoughts, but I can’t see anything in his eyes besides boredom. When he comes closer I realize that he and I are about the same height. He’s a little younger than I am, I remember. And he’s no doubt still growing. His hair is lighter than Ann’s, more like his father’s. But he has Ann’s eyes—her smile. If he were a girl he’d be beautiful, but he’s a boy and so that just makes him … striking. He’s going to break hearts, I know. I just hope that, someday, he doesn’t break me.

“Welcome to Adria,” he tells me.

“Do I curtsy?” I ask.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“I have before,” I say. “I didn’t like it.”

When the prince laughs it’s such a natural, honest sound that I have to look at Ann; I have to wonder what he knows and what he fears. Is he unaware of the bargain his mother has struck, or is duty so much a part of the royal DNA that he doesn’t even register how weird it is to be meeting his future wife at the age of fifteen with his shoes off?

That’s when I realize that I’m staring.

“Sorry,” I tell him. “It’s weird, though, right? I mean, I never thought I’d move into a palace one day and meet my future—”

Hurriedly, Ann steps between us. “Grace is going to be staying here with us, dear. I hope the two of you will become close.”

The look on her face tells me that he doesn’t have a clue just how close the fate of Adria needs us to be.

“I’m Thomas,” he says with a broad grin. “They tell me I’m supposed to make you feel at home.”

“Is that right?” I glare at his mother. “What else do they tell you?” I ask, but Ann is reaching for her son.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you run along? I need to get Grace settled in.”

“No,” I tell her. “You don’t.”

“Yes. I do.”

Prince Thomas looks between us. He knows girl drama when he sees it, so he starts toward the doors. “It was nice meeting you, Grace. I’m sure our paths will cross again soon.”

We are going to share a palace. A future. A life. He gives me a cocky, silly bow, and I want to laugh. My future husband is funny, I realize. And handsome. And everything a literal Prince Charming is supposed to be.