“Clive,” Nick barked, “is absolutely the wrong reason to do this.”

“Leave it out, Knickers, it was a joke,” Freddie said. He started worrying at his tie, finally managing to loosen it. “This is good news. I thought you’d be happy.”

“Good news? This is madness,” Nick said.

“No,” Freddie said firmly. “It’s sensible, is what it is.”

“Sensible,” Nick repeated. “How romantic.”

“The pressure of royal life is never going to be too much for Daphne,” Freddie continued. “My family is never going to be too complicated or too overwhelming or too confusing for her. This”—and here, he mimicked Nick’s gesture at my body—“will never confuse her. It’s easy. It’s so easy.”

“King of the Netherlands,” Nick said softly, shaking his head.

“King consort,” Freddie corrected him. “Prince consort? I’m not sure how the Netherlands works.”

“Which is why this is an absolutely ridiculous notion,” Nick said. “Of all the women to marry in haste, a crown princess seems like the recipe for the biggest possible disaster.” He rose again now, and started to pace.

“It’s hardly haste. We know each other very well, and occasionally we’ve…” Freddie flushed. “You know. It’s not out of nowhere. I’ve thought it through. I’ve done nothing but think about this for ages.”

“You can’t have done, or else you’d have seen reason,” Nick said. “Don’t do this. You don’t need to do this.”

“It’s done,” Freddie said quietly. “Hax gave me his blessing last night.” He smiled joylessly. “Daphne was person number three to find out. Lax had been eavesdropping in the next room. You should’ve heard her shriek.”

Nick barely seemed to hear. “You swore we wouldn’t lose you,” he said. “Is that not as important to you?”

“It’s vital to me.” Freddie’s voice was strained.

“But you’ve chosen the path most likely to make that happen, and for what? Someone you don’t even love?” Nick asked. “You’ll be gone. You can’t live here and live there. It’ll have to be there.”

“I realize that.”

Nick looked at me, then back at his brother. “Did you know you were going to do this when you agreed to help us? Is it why you agreed?” He looked down at the floor for a moment. “I’m so sorry, Freddie. I know what you want me to say but I just can’t do it.”

Flustered, he turned on his heel and left. Freddie ran his hands over his face, then flopped into the tapestry-covered wing chair by the fire. “That went brilliantly. How about removing my wisdom teeth without anesthesia next?” He frowned at me. “You could’ve backed me up there, you know.”

“I was not about to butt into that,” I said.

“Are you going to butt in now?” he asked huffily.

“Hell yeah,” I said. “Come on, you must have expected this, or you wouldn’t have been so wigged out about telling us. You kept saying the two of you weren’t even dating!”

Freddie picked at a loose thread in the chair. “What even is dating in this day and age?”