Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“So…” Hattie pauses, and I can almost see the whirring of her brain as she puts the pieces together. “Is any of that public record?”
“Unlikely. We either need an insider to leak their true relationship to a journalist or Jasmine to do something ridiculous like upload her DNA to one of those genealogy websites.”
I won’t ask how he accessed something that isn’t public record.
Some things are better left buried.
Hattie and I both pause and look at each other before she shakes her head. “No, she’s dumb, but she’s not that dumb.”
“I’ll have someone look into it just in case.” I pull out my phone and send a message to Oscar ordering him to assign someone to it. “I’d rather we cover all our bases.”
Hattie sighs and turns back to her computer, minimising the screen she was looking at. “It would be so much easier if she did take one of those tests.”
Well, that’s a point we can all agree on.
The door swings open, and Mum walks in carrying a flat, rectangular box. Hattie has already seen her once today, but Alec hasn’t, and he gets to his feet to bow. Mum acknowledges him with a gentle nod of her head and a warm smile.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Nothing that concerns you,” she replies, setting the box on the table next to Hattie. “Here, darling. I brought you something to eat.”
“Thanks.” Hattie leans over and opens the box, revealing a tray of pastries. “I can’t eat all those.”
“I’m sure these two will help if they must.” Mum motions to us both.
“Nice to know you care about us,” I mutter.
“She’s busy. I’m keeping her fed,” Mum says without batting an eyelid, although she does pause to tap Alec’s hand away when he reaches for the box. “Not yet, Alecsander.”
I frown. “Why? What is she doing?” I look at Hattie. “What are you doing?”
“Ediddin’ phodos,” she replies around a mouthful of what appears to be a chocolate croissant.
“She’s taking photos of the palace and the grounds for our social media accounts. I see no reason for her to give up what she loves doing, so your father suggested this.” Mum pauses. “It’s part of our ‘modernisation’ thingy he’s got going on with the public relations department.”
“The government’s happy, too. The arts minister keeps texting me asking for updates,” Hattie adds. “So is public relations. It’s ‘good for my image’ and will ‘forge a connection with the public,’ apparently.”
When the hell did she speak to anyone at the government? When did this even happen?
“When did this happen?” Alec asks, eyeing me with amusement. “And did nobody tell your crown prince? He appears quite bamboozled.”
“He never asked.” Mum reaches forward and brushes something off Hattie’s cheek. “Eyelash.”
“Oh, thank you,” she replies, returning to the pastry box. She pauses, then looks over her shoulder at me. “Do you want one?”
“No, you carry on,” I say slowly, bewildered by the sight before me.
When did she become so entwined with royal life?
Not that I’m complaining. Far from it. I’m ecstatic she’s finding a place within the palace, especially a role that means she can do something she loves, as Mum said.
I’m just a little perturbed it’s all happened without me knowing.
But that’s mostly because I want to know everything about her all the time, so it’s more of a ‘me’ issue than anything else.
“Suit yourself.” She grabs another and offers the box to Alec. Unlike me, he’s shameless, and he plucks one away for himself and immediately starts eating.
“What are you all conspiring about in here?” Mum asks, perching on the edge of the table. “Causing trouble for the Sinclairs, I hope.”
“Always,” Alec says around a mouthful of food. “It’s our new favourite hobby.”
“Yes, you’re having a little too much fun, especially,” she says, making him flinch. “Are you done extracting your money from your many shell companies, Alecsander? Or are there a few more you haven’t told anyone about?”
“If I wanted people to know it was my money, they wouldn’t be shell companies,” he points out. “You only know about them because you mildly abused your authority as my queen to make me tell you.”
Mum sniffs, but there’s a smile in her eyes.
Mildly abused, my arse.
She threatened to revoke his title if he didn’t give her a full list.
She wouldn’t have actually done it, of course, as it would have meant taking it from one of her closest friends.
Then again, anything is possible with my mother.
Hattie stares at him over the top of her laptop screen. “Just how many investments have you made in his company? And how many have you withdrawn?”
“I’ve made more than I’ve withdrawn. For now,” he says slowly, then shrugs. “Like I said before, it was profitable. Now… not so much.”
“Insider trading is against the law,” Mum reminds him.
“And I’m not trading,” he retorts. “I’m not touching stocks.”