It was with incredible relief that I finished the grapefruit and the shell was whisked away. A thick brown soup followed, then the main course. It was steak and kidney pie, usually one of my favorites. With it was cauliflower in a white sauce and tiny roast potatoes. I could feel my mouth watering. Two good meals in two days. But the first mouthful revealed that this course was not going to be easy, either. I’ve always had a problem with chewing and swallowing large chunks of meat. It simply won’t go down.

“Georgiana, I have a special favor to ask of you,” the queen said, looking up from her own plate. “The king wanted this to be done formally, but I managed to persuade him that a private chat would be more appropriate. I did not want to put you in a spot, should you wish to say no.”

Of course my mind was now racing. They’d found another prince for me. Or even worse, Siegfried had officially asked for my hand, one royal family to another, and turning him down would create an international incident. I sat frozen, my fork poised halfway between my plate and my mouth.

“There is to be a royal wedding later this month. You have no doubt got wind of it,” the queen continued.

“No.” It came out as a squeak.

“Princess Maria Theresa of Romania is to marry Prince Nicholas of Bulgaria. He is the heir to the throne, as I expect you know.”

I gave a half nod as if the royal families of Europe always discussed their wedding plans with me. Thank God it was someone else’s wedding we were talking about. I brought my fork to my mouth and started chewing.

“Naturally our family should be represented,” the queen went on. “We are, after all, related to both sides. He is from the same Saxe-Coburg-Gotha line as your great-grandmother Queen Victoria, and she, of course, is one of the Hohenzollern-Sigmaringens. If it were in the summer, we should have been delighted to attend; however, there is no question of the king himself traveling abroad at this bitter time of year.”

I nodded, having found a particularly chewy piece of meat in my mouth.

“So His Majesty and I have decided to ask you to represent us.”

“Me?” I managed to squeak, my mouth still full of that large chunk of meat. I was now in a tricky situation in more ways than one. There was no way I could swallow it. There was no way I could spit it out. I tried a sip of water to wash it down but it wouldn’t go. So I had to resort to the old school trick—a pretended cough, napkin to my mouth and the meat expelled into the napkin.