The Crown Prince Chose the Size 18 Commoner, and the Palace Can't Stop Him novel · Chapter 15 of 24

Chapter 15: The Foreign Princess

Princess Ilse of Karsten was not what I expected.

I had pictured a silk doll in a cloud of lace, because that was what the Council's marriage paper made her sound like.

She stood in the receiving room in a mud-spattered traveling coat, with ink on her fingers and her black hair stuffed under a plain cap.

She was twenty-four, short and square, and she looked at Lucan.

"Your Highness," she said. "I am told we are to be married."

"Your Highness," Lucan said. "I am told that too."

"Was it your idea?"

"No."

"Thank God." She sat down in the nearest chair without being asked. "Then we can speak like people."

Her envoy stood behind her, a gray man with a stiff neck, and said, "Highness, we agreed the matter would be handled with discretion."

"I agreed to nothing," Ilse said. "My father agreed. I was sent along with the luggage."

She turned to me and her eyes ran over the signet ring on its chain.

"You are the pastry girl."

"I'm Tilda."

"They say the prince chose you in front of a thousand people."

"They're right."

"Good. I've been trying to get out of a marriage for four years, and nobody has ever done it so loudly."

Lucan's mouth twitched.

"You will not marry me," he said, "if I can help it."

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