The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1) by Evie Banks Page B

rearranged his sorrowful face into an expression of pique.
    “I am simply doing my job, Ma’am. I’ve always served the royal family in one way or another, and I always will.”
    Before Renee could respond to this noble sentiment, Chase strode into the restaurant. His face lit up when he caught sight of the three of them and he dodged around tables to reach them. Seeing him reminded Renee of the issue that was troubling her. Chase took a chair between her and Roberts.
    “Did you have a nice talk with the Prime Minister?” she asked casually.
    “Yes, everyone is very eager to meet you.”
    The waiter brought the plates of macaroni and cheese, and Renee’s steak, but left before Chase could put in an order. Cassandra eagerly dug into her plate of macaroni, but Roberts just stared at the bright orange pasta in the bowl before him. Just like he had ordered, there was extra grated cheddar on top.
    “Come on, Roberts, it tastes good,” encouraged Cassandra as she shoved another spoonful into her mouth.
    “Doubtful.” He tentatively scooped up a spoonful of the pasta and nibbled a single one off the end of the spoon. “A culinary triumph,” he said and laid the spoon down.
    Chase, however, was looking at it with interest. “Do you mind?” he asked.
    “Be my guest. I’m sure they serve this in every dining establishment in Tottenham,” said Roberts and pushed the bowl away.
    “Snob,” said Chase and pulled the bowl to him. He dug in with gusto. “Delicious!” he said and it was some moments before there was conversation again. Renee wondered who would reach the bottom first, Cassandra or Chase. It appeared to be a dead heat. Renee cut off a small piece of steak. It was good, but couldn’t compare to good Texan barbecue. She chewed slowly, waiting for Chase to come up for air. He washed it all down with Roberts’s untouched glass of water and leaned back, full and sated.
    “Good idea, kid,” he said and reached over the table to ruffle Cassandra’s hair. She beamed.
    “So the Prime Minister…” Renee prompted.
    “What? Oh, right. Everyone is over the moon that you accepted.”
    “Who is everyone?” she asked.
    “The government. The shadow cabinet is filled in too, of course, but so far everyone is doing a good job of keeping it hush hush. I think I’m ready for dessert,” he said.
    “But that’s just the thing—how is the country going to feel when you unveil me? Are you just going to spring it on them? Pull the curtain back and say ‘Surprise, here’s your new queen and oh, by the way, she’s an American who doesn’t even know the name of the prime minister’?”
    “It’s Neville Rufus,” supplied Roberts. “About as likable as a porcupine. I don’t know what is planned for your ‘unveiling,’ but I think we have a few weeks before it happens. After all, you’ve got to get situated and brought up to speed on British history, society, royal etiquette. Don’t worry about being American—the former royal family was as German as sauerkraut, but the country soon forgot that and by the time Cassandra is queen—”
    “Really? AWESOME!” said Cassandra.
    Renee looked at her daughter and felt weak. She was regretting her decision more and more every minute.
    “Princesses don’t shout in restaurants,” said Roberts. “By the time Cassandra is queen, she will be so thoroughly English she won’t remember how many stars are in the American flag.”
    “It depends on if they let in Puerto Rico,” said Cassandra and dove into her food again.
    Chase leaned forward across the table. “No one is going to riot. You are the heir and the populace has always accepted the heir.”
    “Well,” said Roberts, “except for that time when Edward II had a red hot iron thrust up his backside.” Roberts looked up to find Chase, Renee and Cassandra staring at him in open-mouthed silence. “What?” he said.
    “That was a long time ago,” said Chase to Renee, while he glared at Roberts. He turned