I pretend to consider it. “Fine. I’ll add it to the list of future legal alterations.”

Danni perks up at this. “You can do that? Can you change it to a four-day work week, too?”

“Danni,” I say, “for you, I’ll make it three and a half.”

Molly apparently runs out of patience with the amount of joy and frivolity in the room, because she actually deigns to acknowledge my existence at this. “Rose can’t change any laws,” she says, dropping her phone to her lap. “Not now, not ever. We’re a parliamentary monarchy.”

I want to be put out that she destroyed my fun, but I’m far too busy reveling in the fact that I am, as it turns out, not invisible to her.

“Wait, really?” Danni asks, deflating. Oh, bless her, she thought the queen could change the law willy-nilly? I would have thought she’d have learned better than to believe a word that comes out of my mouth by now. It’s very endearing, though. “What do royals do, then?”

I shrug. “Not a lot, Danni, not a lot.”

I’m half joking. We certainly can’t change the law to our will, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have plans for my working life, which starts as soon as I leave school. There will be royal duties, certainly—appearances, speeches, general attendance. But in less than two years, I will be able to start working on my own causes. I have already discussed my hopes to open a foundation providing a range of services for victims of domestic abuse with my parents.

More recently, though, I have decided to expand my plans to include support services and housing for unhoused young people. I’m interested in helping youth, certainly, though I’ll admit I’m especially eager to do what I can to assist queer youth facing family violence. I would be unable to run a foundation specifically for this cause, given the royal family is expected to remain politically neutral, but it would encapsulate it nonetheless.

Setting aside the irony of my being “politically neutral,” when in reality my very existence would be considered a political issue by many.

Eleanor jumps in. “That’s not true. You’re a symbol.”

“I saw an article call you a sex symbol the other night,” Danni says, apparently without thinking, because as soon as the words leave her mouth she turns crimson and her eyes widen so much they become almost perfectly round. Eleanor bursts out laughing, and even Molly has to fight to keep her mouth still.

And I, never being one to let an opportunity to tease pass me by, clasp my hands together in my lap and lean forward with interest. “You did, did you? May I ask what you were searching to stumble across that result?”

“I, um, I—I don’t—”