6. After being let out of the hospital, a tabloid journalist fell in love with a princess.

Love was nothing Whitney had ever thought about.

She wasn’t beautiful, smart, or funny. She was tenacious, but considering the reaction that usually got her, she didn’t think it was necessarily to her benefit.

Her prettiest feature was her hair. It naturally tousled itself into looping curls and was a soft brown that urged hands to touch. At least, people were always touching it or asking to touch it.

Sometimes it was awkward. Sometimes it was weird.

With Flora, it was wonderful.

Princess Floriana Della Bonadeci, second daughter of Crown Prince Darius Mekiah Bonadeci of the small kingdom of Kharvis. Beautiful, gentle, and for some reason interested in Whitney.

And while the commonsense thing would have been to reject the princess’ attentions, for once Whitney refused to be sensible.

She wanted the whirlwind romance. The sweet kisses that would eventually have to lead to a bittersweet goodbye.

Because Flora was as high above her as the birds sweeping through the sky, wings widespread, impossible to hold in place. Because a bird needed to fly.

And Flora, beautiful Flora, was as tied to her homeland as those birds were tied to the air above. Someday she would have to go home. And Whitney would have to stay behind.

Because Whitney was a journalist for a trashy tabloid that nobody respected. Because it had only been chance that let the two of them meet–their arms brushing as they both tried to use the same hospital vending machine–and chance was what would part them.

Because Flora’s father was going to be a king. Someday soon from the way she spoke of her grandfather. And when that happened, Flora would be propelled into the public eye, and