match reaching the altar or, if it did, love developing between them.
Jules shifted in her seat. “I do hope this island has up-to-date ideas about women.”
“It has to be more contemporary. Aliestle has been asleep since the Middle Ages.” Brandt cupped one side of his headset with his hand. “Listen, I hear Father snoring now. The tyrant could wake the dead.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Jules’s mouth. “Too bad we can’t wake him.”
“Along with the entire Council of Elders.”
Nodding, she stared at her brother who was more known as a playboy crown prince than a burgeoning politician and ruler. “When you’re king, you’ll change the way things are done.”
Brandt shrugged. “Being king will be too much work.”
“You’ll rise to the occasion,” she encouraged.
He gave her a look. “You really think so?”
“Yes.” Her gaze locked with his, willing him to remember their previous discussions and their plan. Okay, her plan. “You will bring our country into the twenty-first century. If not for our younger brothers and subjects, then for your children and theirs. Especially the daughters.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. And I’ll help.” The bane of his existence was being crown prince. Brandt wanted all the perks that went with being royalty without any of the responsibility. One of these days he was going to have to grow up. “Once I marry someone outside of Aliestle, Father’s reign over me ends. I’ll be able to represent our country to the world and gain support to help you enact reforms when you are king, even if the Council of Elders is against them. We must change Aliestle for the better, Brandt.”
He didn’t say anything. She didn’t expect him to.
“We are approaching the palace,” the pilot announced over the headsets.
Goose bumps prickled Jules’s skin.
Full of curiosity at her new home, she peered out the window. A huge white stucco and orange-tile roofed palace perched above the sea. The multistoried building had numerous balconies and windows.
But no tower. Another good sign?
A paved road and narrower walking paths wove their way through a landscape of palm trees, flowering bushes and manicured greenery. Water shot at least twenty-five feet into the air from an ornately decorated fountain.
The Mediterranean island and palace were a world away from Aliestle and the stone castle fortress nestled high in the Alps. Living somewhere lighter and brighter would be a welcome change from the Grimm-like fairy-tale setting she called home.
“Father may have finally gotten this right,” Brandt said.
Jules nodded. “It’s pretty.”
“At least on the outside.”
She sighed. “Don’t forget, dear brother, you’re here for moral support.”
“And to make sure the honeymoon doesn’t start early,” Brandt joked.
As if she’d ever had that opportunity present itself. She glared at him. “Be quiet.”
“Sore spot, huh?”
He had no idea. Engaged three times, and she’d never come close to anything other than kisses. Besides making out with Christian while a teenager, she’d been kissed once as an adult. Prince Niko’s kiss while sailing had been pleasant enough, but nothing like the passion she’d overheard other women discussing. Perhaps with Prince Enrique…
The helicopter landed on a helipad. The engine stopped. The rotor’s rotation slowed. Her hand trembled, making her work harder to unbuckle her harness. Finally she undid the latch. As they exited, a uniformed staff member placed their luggage onto a wheeled cart.
“Welcome to La Isla de la Aurora, Your Royal Highness Crown Prince Brandt and Your Royal Highness Princess Julianna.” An older man in a gray suit bowed. “I am Ortiz. Prince Enrique sends his regrets for not meeting you himself, but he is attending to important state business at the moment.”
“We understand.” Brandt smiled. He might not be the typical statesman, but no one could fault his friendliness.