Alexander gave a faint, strangled laugh. “Sit down before she banishes you to the children’s table.”
“Please,” Sebastian said, sprawling elegantly. “The children’s table would be more fun.”
Eleanor’s gaze swept over him, one finely arched brow lifting. “We are finalizing the groomsmen. We need five. Emilia’s bridesmaids are already confirmed. You will need to provide full names, titles, and any potential… complications.”
“Right,” Sebastian said, without missing a beat. “Well, Jules is both a bridesmaid and my ex-wife, so it would seem there’s some flexibility.”
Eleanor didn’t blink. “Yes. I was aware. There was some debate about whether to allow that particular tabloid headline into the wedding party, but she is also my goddaughter.”
Alexander stepped in before Sebastian couldreply. “We’re keeping it simple. Aside from Sebastian, we’ll have Enzo, Tobias, Lukas, and Ethan.”
Eleanor’s face remained composed, but her tone cooled by several degrees. “Ethan is not royal.”
“Well, technically he was prom king,” Sebastian said. “But aside from that, he is rich, well-mannered, and owns his own castle. I mean, close enough, right?”
“He’s part of the group,” Alexander said. “He’s been friends with us longer than most royals manage to keep a marriage.”
“He’s American,” she added, with the precise amount of distaste one might reserve for termites.
“You say that like it’s terminal,” Sebastian said, delighted.
“Because I expect decorum,” Eleanor said, steely. “Not whatever Silicon Valley circus he intends to bring.”
“You’ll be relieved to know he’s leaving the hoverboard at home,” Sebastian said.
“How comforting.”
She turned another page. “Now, regarding dates. No one is to bring a guest unless they are pre-approved. No socialites, no actresses, and absolutely no influencers.”
Sebastian perked up. “Define influencer.”
“Anyone with more followers than sense.”
Alexander rubbed his temple. “Sebastian, I swear—”
“Fine, fine. I’ll make sure no one invites a walking brand partnership. Even the American.”
“You will refer to him as Mr. Klein during formal proceedings,” Eleanor said sharply. “Not ‘the American.’ Not ‘Silicon Jesus.’ Not ‘your tech daddy.’”
“It’s like you’ve been reading my group chat,” Sebastian said, mildly impressed.
“Tobias and Lukas are sensible,” Eleanor went on. “Family. Reliable.”
“And by family, you mean your side,” Sebastian said.
“Yes. They reflect the crown appropriately. Lukas has been raised with the proper expectations. And Tobias may be foolish, but he knows where the line is.”
“That’s generous,” Alexander said, “considering the rooftop tequila incident.”
“He apologized,” Eleanor said. “In writing.”
“Enzo and Teresa, on the other hand,” Sebastian drawled, “are less tolerated because they’re from James Philip’s side.”
“I tolerate them,” Eleanor said, “because they are well-connected European nobles. Teresa, for all her dramatics, is unfailingly polite. Lorenzo… has potential. Though he squanders it by flirting with foreign ministers’ daughters. They both spend too much time on social media.”
Sebastian gave a long, theatrical sigh. “Well, we already know what you think of me.”
“My feelings toward you are irrelevant at this point, provided that you behave,” Eleanor said, returning to her papers. “You will be responsible for organizing the groomsmen—their fittings, schedules, and conduct. I will not have Lorenzo arriving barefoot again. Nor will I tolerate another Capri incident. Whatever that was.”