Prince: Royal Romantic Suspense (Billionaires in Disguise: Maxence Book 5) Blair Babylon (ebook reader screen txt) 📖

Georgie smiled at her. “I grew up in Connecticut, but I did most of my bachelor’s at Southwestern State in Arizona.”

Dree dropped her stylus but caught it on the bounce. “Really? I worked over at Good Sam in Phoenix up until just a month or so ago.”

Georgie’s brown eyes lit up, and her whole face lifted as she grinned. “You’re kidding! How did you get here?”

“Long story. Really long and weird story.” She caught Maxence looking at her from the corner of her eye. “And it’s nothing. Boring. I should stop talking now.”

Georgie frowned at Maxence. “What, you don’t let your admins talk to people?”

Alexandre laughed. “Being the first in line for the throne changes a guy, huh, Max?”

Max said, “It doesn’t matter what my hypothetical number is in the line of succession, or yours, for that matter.”

Xan-freaking-Valentine nodded. “Not since the damn Council can elect anybody they want to and force them to be the monarch.”

“Well, one can always abdicate and renounce one’s place and citizenship. That’s been my plan for years.”

Georgie crossed her legs. “I still don’t get this. When we got married, Xan told me that he was number three in line for the throne, but he would never be in any danger of getting tapped for it. But that’s why we had to call his uncle and get permission to get married.”

Maxence smirked at Alexandre. Dree tried not to stare at Max because he got hotter when he smirked. Max said, “I heard you had gone to all the trouble to make a dynastic marriage, getting proper permission and finding a Catholic priest and everything. I wondered if you’d changed your mind about your place in the family.”

“Never,” Alexandre scoffed. “It never occurred to me that Pierre would do anything other than grab the throne with both hands. If Uncle Rainier had refused his permission, I would’ve gone ahead and made a morganatic marriage with Georgiana. I just wanted to keep my title and my house, but she’s worth more than a house in Monaco.”

Max laughed at Alexandre. “‘True love is worth more than a house in Monaco.’ We should put that on mugs and sell them in the palace gift shop.”

The vocabulary was beyond Dree. She wrote them on the pad, trying not to frown. Duc and Duchess = dynasty not morganananatic marriage, WTF.

Georgie whispered to her, “Dynastic means it’s royally legal. Morganatic means that I’m not royal, which is the case, but the only thing that matters is that his uncle said it was dynastic. Children of morganatic marriages are not quite legitimate, and they can’t inherit the title and money.”

Dree nodded. “Oh, okay.”

Georgie said, “I was pre-law at Southwestern State. Contracts are fun. All these stupid details just light my fire.”

Max looked up at Dree, a warning glance that she was interfering in royal business.

She snickered but went back to pretending to write something.

Oops. She was supposed to be writing about wool.

She backspaced over everything she’d written and wrote some notes about wool grades from distinct sheep breeds.

Alexandre shrugged. “Anyway, those quick phone calls to Uncle R and a priest mean I have kept my title, and thus I have a vote in the Council of Nobles for who’s to be the next prince. This is insane. I can’t believe there’s a contested vote.”

Georgie gestured between the two men and told Max, “Xan has been terrorizing the council for weeks. I’m just glad you got back here before ‘the cousins’ rebelled against him.”

Xan. She’d called him Xan.

Dree tried not to hyperventilate.

Max lifted one eyebrow at Xan. “‘The cousins?’ Did you form a cabal?”

“I had to do something. After Uncle Rainier died and your brother shot himself—”

Georgie shot a dark look at her husband and enunciated clearly when she told Max, “Our condolences for your loss.”

Maxence waved his fingers in the air and lowered his eyes, acknowledging her sympathies.

Alexandre continued, “And then you were next in the line of succession. But no one could find you, so they started coming after me. I rounded up the cousins and emphasized the importance of acting together.”

Georgie snorted. “I can’t believe how afraid they are of him.”

“They can’t form a quorum without us,” Xan Valentine said. “I held the fort, and we Grimaldi have always known the importance of holding the fortress on the headlands.”

Maxence smiled wryly and nodded. “Just so.”

Dree wrote down a list of sheep breeds. She asked, “Who’s number three?”

Oops, she hadn’t meant to say that aloud. She was, after all, just a secretary, hardly a step up from transcribing software.

Maxence turned to Dree and explained, “It isn’t a line of succession so much as an order of precedence. Traditionally, the Council nominates and confirms the next in line to the throne. In any case, the major problem is that they are likely to offer it first to me and then to you, Alexandre, and we don’t want the damn thing.”

Alexandre turned to Georgie, accidentally making eye contact with Dree for just a second before he spoke to his wife, “And the third person in line is Christine, who has repeatedly and loudly said that she would rather sit on a pineapple than the throne.”

Georgie whispered to Dree, “Christine is his younger sister.”

Dree wrote down, #3 = Christine, sister of Alexandre, so also M’s cousin. Also does not want.

And then she erased it and wrote, Merino wool is really good.

Georgie shook her head. “I can’t see Christine as a head of state. She deliberately doesn’t practice her violin enough to get first chair in the orchestra, so she doesn’t have to perform solos. Who’s in line after that?”

Maxence sighed. “This is where it gets tricky. Traditionally, next in line would be the previous sovereign’s next male sibling, who is our uncle Jules.”

The evil racist who looked like Santa’s Head Elf.

Georgie’s expression became more pained. “Oh, him.”

Xan nodded. “Unfortunately.”

Dree wrote 4. Jules G and drew a line through his name. So, Monaco