“If it weren’t for the summers I spent apprenticing in my family’s business, I would never have uncovered my passion for chemistry and perfuming. And, so, I would like to change the world for the children of St. Christophe in the same way. The Villeneuve Apprenticeship Program will be open to all secondary school students and will enable them to choose from a comprehensive list of jobs in all fields, from agriculture to government to the arts, so that each student can experience a job before committing to careers and university majors.”

Encouraged by the enthusiastic response, she continued. “In addition to the list of participating companies, the students will be able to submit wish lists of the specific types of careers they’re interested in, and we’ll approach the appropriate businesses to encourage their participation in our program.”

Applause broke out, and when it didn’t subside, she realized she’d said enough. “Thank you. Thank you so much. More details to come soon.” With a dignified nod, she turned to step away from the podium and bumped into Marcel, who grasped her wrist and linked her arm through his. Together, they walked off the stage.

The moment she stepped onto the ballroom floor, the press swarmed her. Ignoring their microphones and trying not to squint from the blinding lights of their cameras, Rosalina said, “We’ll hold a press conference later. Tonight, it’s the Jubilee. Let’s celebrate.”

“Marcel.” One of the reporters lunged forward. “What’s the timeframe? When will this apprenticeship begin?”

“Our program will be up and running by next summer.”

Our? She shouldn’t care that he was taking the credit. This appearance is about the vote, nothing more.

“What about the students who can’t afford to participate?” another one asked him. “Children from farm families work during the summer. Isn’t your program skewed toward wealthy people like yourselves? Isn’t a summer internship a luxury?”

“We’re going to provide—” Rosalina began, but Marcel touched her hand to silence her.

Rage sparked, coloring her vision the same shade her cheeks must have been. It took everything she had not to shove him aside.

“We appreciate your concerns,” Marcel said. “And to that point, the royal family will not only provide a stipend for the participants, but we’ll offer scholarships, as well. We want this opportunity to be available to every student in the country.”

Who the hell did he think he was speaking on behalf of the royal family? Shaking with the effort to keep her emotions in check, she said, “Participants will also have the option to choose part-time work, in case they have to—”

A reporter shoved a microphone in her face. “Princess, who made your gown?”