When we finally got back to the house, we were already three hours behind on our packing and cleaning.

"It's going to be hard to get out of here before the plane leaves tomorrow." Janet put her hands on her hips and surveyed the house from the doorway. "But at least we don't have to actually move all the stuff."

I looked at the pile of empty boxes the movers had dropped off for us. "And we only have to pack our own things, right? The movers are going to do the kitchen and stuff?"

"Yeah, so your room, my room, and my office."

"Okay, I'll do my room first and come help you once I'm done." Fortunately, when I'd moved out of HIS house, I'd sent most of my things to storage, so I only had the most necessary items here at Janet's.

"Come here, suitcase," I spoke aloud as I pulled the suitcase out of the closet.

I stared at the suitcase and the boxes in front of me. It's now or never. Do I pack a suitcase for maybe the scariest adventure of a lifetime, or the boxes to return to my mom's house for the summer, working with Uncle John? When I put it like that, why is it even a choice?

"We need to get packed," I continued my monologue.

Janet poked her head in the door. "Did you need me?"

"What? No!"

"I thought I heard you talking. Weird."

Yeah, weird. "Well, I'm fine. Thanks." I smiled and waved.

Janet seems so sure I can do this, and I know I want to, but I don't think she's right. I just keep thinking what will happen if Clarence goes rogue and refuses to commit to the events or if I mess up and cause the king even more embarrassment.

I took the clothes out of the closet and dresser and piled them onto the bed.

And, on that note, I have no idea how to behave in front of a king. Will I have to curtsey all the time? How do you curtsey? Are there special rules for how I dress or act? Will I offend them if I don't behave correctly at the palace?

My breathing had sped up in my chest without my knowledge or consent. My breaths were coming in quick, shallow spurts and my head started to spin. I sat down on the bed and hung my head down between my knees until my head almost reached the floor.

Focus on breathing. I kept myself occupied with counting to four hundred before slowly sitting up once I was feeling a little better. My heart leapt into my throat again when I saw Clarence standing in the door of my room.

Mortified to see him standing in my doorway after my near panic moment, I couldn't seem to do anything but stare at him.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Can I come in?" He pointed to a desk chair I had never once used during my stay here.

It felt like my brain was walking through a fog, so I did the only thing I could think of. "Sure, go ahead."

He walked across my room, pulled out the chair, slid it towards me about three feet, and then sat down. "I wanted to talk to you about this whole Janet thing."

I slid a little away from him onto my bed. "What about the whole Janet thing?" I didn't have any idea what he was going to say, and it scared me.

"Her idea to have you come intern for my dad and pretend to be my girlfriend in public." He waved his hand as though the answer was obvious, which it probably was.

"Oh." I took a deep breath. "And what do you think about the whole Janet thing?"

He sighed. "I really do think it's a terrible idea. I can think of about a thousand ways that it could go wrong, but I've had no luck convincing my dad to scrap the idea. It looks like no matter what I do, I'm going to have a 'girlfriend' following me around all summer," he laughed bitterly. "Well, he did give me the option of him finding me a fiancée, but that sounds a lot worse, so I'll stick with a girlfriend."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know what I would do in that situation. Pretty sure I wouldn't take the real fiancée, though. Not ready for that kind of commitment."

He ran a hand over his short, black hair. "So, I guess what I'm here for is to ask you if you're going to take him up on his offer."

Honesty's the best policy. "I'm still not sure."

His shoulders slumped forward for a second before he pulled himself up to proper posture. "Is there anything you want to ask me to help you make your decision?"

I felt like asking a standard interview question, because that's what this moment felt like, but the seriousness of his face caused me to second guess my decision. I thought about all the reasons I didn't want to do this and suddenly realized there were some questions he could answer.

"What do you think a person needs to be like to do the job well?"

He rubbed his hands against the fabric of his jeans. "Didn't Janet talk to you about all of this? It's a bunch of charity events and ribbon cuttings and party planning and photography opportunities. I'm sure if Janet thinks you'll do it well, she knows better than me. I'd just trust her on that one."

"I asked what you think." I narrowed my eyes. "Do you think I'd be good at it?"

He laughed, which seemed odd given my severity  "I think I met you like yesterday. But it seems like something you'd enjoy..." He paused to look at my face. "Well, it seems like something you'll be good at as long as you don't give that face to any of the reporters or photographers."

I couldn't help myself, and a laugh escaped my lips. "Deal," I said. "I won't scowl at anyone important." And then I remembered my biggest fear. Might as well ask him. It's not like there's a better person to ask.

I pulled myself to the edge of my bed before asking, "Does your Dad get picky about all those royal formalities? Like am I going to end up in a dungeon for not knowing how to curtsey?"

I could tell he was trying not to laugh as he answered me. "No, Genevieve. He's not that particular, though I must warn you many people are, and they will expect you to learn." He smiled. "Plus, we don't even have a dungeon anymore. Mom had it turned into an art gallery."

"I'll have to check it out, then." I smiled.

"Does that mean you want to do it?"

"I don't know," I paused. It sure seemed like I wanted to do it. "Are you planning on following the rules this summer? Like I know I'll have to explain to my friends that you never actually dated me, but am I also going to have to explain why my 'boyfriend' was off with a bunch of other girls while we were 'dating'?"

He shook his head. "Not if that's what it takes to get you to take the job."

"Do you want me to take the job?" I blurted out.

"If you saw the other girls my dad has lined up if you back out, you'd beg, too."

"This is what you call begging?" I waved my hand at his casually sitting on my chair.

"I was hoping not to get to begging." He stood up. "And I do want you to take the job. If you will."

I don't know what came over me as I stood up and shook his hand. "All right, then. You got yourself a palace intern."

"I could hug you. Thank you!"

"Yeah, sure," I said to his back as he walked out of the room. Well, if the prince himself asked me, I couldn't really say no, could I?

I picked up the suitcase off the floor. "Come on, buddy. We're going on an adventure."

I packed the clothes from my bed, and everything Janet bought me. There were so few things that I was completely done in less than half an hour. I looked at the contract Janet had left on my desk 'just in case I wanted to peruse it.'

I picked it up and slid out of my room into the hallway, quickly making my way towards Janet's room.

"Janet," I called as I knocked on her door. "I'm ready to go to the airport. And I need a pen."

She looked up at me, bewildered. "Why do you need a -?" Her eyes brightened when she saw the contract. "Oh! Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I figured 'why not?'"

She ran across the room to hug me. "Oh, I'm so excited you said yes. I thought for sure I'd scared you away. I'm going to get you a pen before you change your mind."

I smiled as she left the room, feeling somehow I had made the right decision.