Spotlight: The Other Prince by Alice Dolman
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(Royal Connections, #1)
Publication date: April 19th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
After moving to London, Amelia Glendale landed her dream job as a lawyer at the Queen’s Charitable Foundation. But when the queen dies, Amelia finds herself working for her longtime royal crush, Prince Leo – and his stuffy older brother Prince Edmund.
Charismatic Prince Leo was once known for his hard-partying ways, but has settled down and thrown himself into a life of philanthropy. He’s Amelia’s perfect man and she’s sure they’d get along if she wasn’t too star-struck to speak to him.
Prince Edmund has always been the sensible brother and dutiful heir, until a scandal of epic proportions leaves his reputation in tatters. With his comfortable existence disrupted, he sees a chance to build a life and relationship where he is more than just his position.
Thrown into the princes’ orbit, Amelia discover that maybe the perfect man for her isn’t the prince she expected. Will Amelia get her fairytale ending, or will the pressures of life in the spotlight be too much to bear?
This feel-good romantic comedy about love, friendship and tiaras is perfect for fans of American Royals and The Royal We.
Excerpt
“I know it’s been a long day, but would you like to come back with me for dinner? Lucy and Emma are coming over for a post-trip debrief, and I’m sure they’d like to see you.”
“I’d love to, but I promised Penny I’d have dinner with her. She’ll disown me for sure if I stand her up.”
“Are you sure? Am I going to have to get down on my knees and beg?”
Now that’s an image. How am I meant to say no to that?
“Alright, I’ll come for dinner. But I’m going to have to leave early—eight p.m. at the latest. Don’t let me lose track of time.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Walters is standing squinting out the window as the flight attendant disarms the door. He turns around and walks towards us.
“Excuse me, Your Highness. It seems we have an issue.”
“What’s the matter?”
“There are photographers on the runway. We’ve called airport security, but it may take a while to clear them.”
“Are the cars ready to go outside?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In that case, let’s just get to the cars quickly and head out.”
“Are you sure, sir?”
“Yes, quite sure. I don’t want to spend an hour waiting for airport security to deal with it.”
“As you wish, sir,” Walters responds. He strides back to the door and nods to the flight attendant who opens the door.
With the door open, Walters walks towards the stairs with Edmund and me following behind.
“What are we having for dinner then? Have you got your chef on standby?”
“I’ll have you know that I don’t have a chef.”
“But you can order food from the kitchens at the other apartments, right?”
“Well, yes, Helena has extra kitchen staff, so they can cater for the rest of us. But that’s not the same as having my own dedicated chef.”
“Oh, of course not, Your Highness. You’re the picture of the everyman. The public would never question the cost of the monarchy again if they knew you were here sharing chefs,” I say, rolling my eyes.
No response. Eddie is frozen at the door with his back to me. Oops, maybe that one went too far.
“Hey, I’m sorry. It was just a joke…”
“It’s not you,” Eddie says stiffly. “It’s them.”
My gaze follows Eddie’s hand as he gestures out the door to the runway. On the ground is a pack of at least forty people with cameras and microphones. There are flashbulbs going off everywhere and photographers and reporters jostling and yelling over each other, trying to get our attention. This is not what I pictured when Walters said there were photographers here.
Watching the scene down on the ground, I try to figure out how so many people got here so fast. Is this what it’s always like when Eddie goes out? There were reporters following us around in Kenya, but it was nothing like this. They were a small group of pre-approved professionals. Something about this pack is far rougher and more volatile.
“What do we do?”
“They’ve already seen us, so I say we keep our heads down and get to the cars as fast as possible. You’d better head back to your flat. If they get photos of us going into KP together, things are going to escalate quickly.”
“Right, of course. Okay, I guess I’ll head home.”
Eddie walks down the steep stairs and I follow, watching my feet and trying to pretend that this is a totally normal experience that I am completely fine with. The facade doesn’t last long.
Halfway down the stairs, the wind dies down and I’m hit by a wall of sound. Everyone on the ground is yelling. Reporters are shouting questions, airport security officers are screaming at the reporters to move back and Walters and the PPOs are urging Eddie and me to move faster and get to the cars. Making my way across the tarmac to the car, I keep my head down and catch bits and pieces of the questions being hurled at Eddie through the chaos.
“Why did you cheat, Edmund?”
“What did Sibella say?”
“Give us a kiss!”
“How long have you been seeing her?”
After what seems like an hour, I make it to the car, and a PPO opens the door and starts pushing me in. As he does, I look up and see a lone reporter with floppy brown hair and tortoise-shell glasses staring at me. Not Eddie, me. “Oi, Amelia! How does it feel to finally catch a prince?” Before he can say anything else, I’m shoved into the backseat and the door slams shut next to me.
“Camden, is it, ma’am?” the driver asks, looking at me in the rear-view mirror.
“Pardon?”
“We’re headed to an address in Camden?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he says, his eyes softening. “You’ll get used to it.”
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About the Author
Hi! I'm Alice. I'm so glad you're here.
I write funny stories about people falling in love. Mainly princes and princesses because I'm a bit of a royal family tragic. Also because writing about royalty is the closest I'll ever come to wearing a tiara that isn't made of plastic.
I live in Australia with my husband and three small humans. In my seventeen seconds of free time each day I love reading romantic comedies, watching cheesy Netflix movies and baking cakes which I absolutely do not eat most of myself.
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