Seduced by a royal knight

CHAPTER FIVE

Camelia glided toward his sister and appeared to sense his turmoil. "This is a tea-length satin dress with ruching down the front and a portrait neckline." He knew about the satin dress, but that was all. "Alex, look at all these cool petticoats!"

He groaned as Ginevra raised her skirt, but all he could see were layers of fluffy fabric. "Yes, um, that's very nice." “Camelia is going to tie a gold satin ribbon around the edges of a few petticoats so that they catch the light when I turn. She also claims that her aunt is extremely talented at embroidery and is able to embellish one with Fredrick and I initials. Isn't the color just gorgeous? Camelia calls it champagne." However, it is not white.

Alessio was as yet dumbfounded by Ginevra's womanly change and couldn't imagine anything to say that was yet self-evident. His sister shrugged. "Princess Diana didn't wear a white dress, either — hers was ivory."

Camelia walked around her, adjusting the fit by pulling at the fabric. "Yes, and Nonna always told me to look at that marriage." She cut a thin finger at him.

"Stop it, Alessio! At the funeral of my parents, the Princess treated me with kindness. Camelia stared at the satin as she dropped a few pieces. "Hold on — Princess Diana came to your parents' burial service?"

Alessio and Ginevra traded looks and confronted her. Alessio talked first. "Indeed, she did, and you're correct, Evra. She was thoughtful with the two of us.

" Alex, I didn't tell Camelia anything about our family. Ginevra gave a quick blink. "I simply needed to be a normal lady checking out dresses with next to no fussy exhibit or the unnecessary urge to please me."

"Let me know what?" Camelia cradled her magnificent chest with her arms spread out. "Do you think we should reintroduce ourselves, Ginevra? In the hope that the woman wouldn't scream out the door or straight to the tabloids, Alessio bowed once more.

“I am Alessio Leonardo Giovanni Franco Martelli Di Rossi, il principe di Reginaldi, and may I present my sister Ginevra Eleonora Cristina Angela Martelli Di Rossi, principessa di Reginaldi.

“Come on, on your wedding day, every bride is a princess, but you’re a real princess?" His sister gave a nod. "However, it's a little nation, truly. Alessio doesn't have to do much to keep it running. Camelia would now think he was a naive idler, so he glared at her. She wore an exceptional articulation as it was. "Are you a prince, then? I may be wrong, but Italy is now a republic. "Our grandma, Alessio and I make up the imperial group of Reginaldi, which is one of just two realms on the Italian promontory that wasn't assumed control over when Italy bound together during the 1800s," Ginevra made sense of talkatively, having given the set of experiences address often previously. "The other little nations and realms were assimilated into the more prominent Italian republic, yet not our own. Alessio has taken over as Crown Prince from our father. His good-for-nothing ruler/do-nothing gig.

"Yes, I work hard. I do apologize, Signorina Camelia, if we have not been direct with you all along, however, it is challenging to be aware assuming somebody will call the fiendish paparazzi. They might not be pleasant at all. "Like when Papa and Mama passed away."

As he thought of the broken-hearted young girl who had cried into his chest for years following the terrible loss, Alessio's face hardened into grim lines. "Those jackals haven't found out about Ginevra's engagement yet, but they will in time." "They won't!" "Not from me!" Camelia's eyes snapped, her New York highlight thickening.

"Obviously not," Ginevra shielded her. "However, when they realize that I am getting my wedding dress from you, they won't give you a second's rest. However, it will benefit your company,” she added quickly. "Much publicity."

"Oh." Camelia clearly hadn't thought about that viewpoint, and he felt a debt of gratitude. "I never babble about our clients, and I'll ensure my auntie doesn't, by the same token." "We feel a debt of gratitude, Camelia." Ginevra embraced her, and Aessio wanted to do likewise. "So this is the dress you need, Ginevra?" His sister went to him, her eyes sparkling. Alex, yes, I adore it. Although it is shorter than what Reginaldi brides typically wear, won't it look lovely in the cathedral's gold and marble decorations? "You will look exquisite." He kissed her forehead and cupped her shoulders. It had to be the air in Brooklyn that made his eyes slightly water. Camelia looked at him with a knowing grin on her red lips. "We want to get this dress; it's perfect for a princess," we say. “Absolutely." Camelia hurried Ginevra to the trifold mirror, where they perplexed Alessio by discussing various fabric options, cuts, and embellishments. His main commitment was to use his charge card once Ginevra went to change into her ordinary attire. He flickered at the absolute on the slip; certain all that fine custom work needed to cost more. He looked up at Camelia. "That's it?" She put her hands on her hips. "Did you anticipate me to mark it up simply because you are this, this royalty thing?"

He replied truthfully, "Yes." If that's the case, then those other shop owners are scum. You ought to see that somewhere better."

He moved the signed form closer to her. "I think we have." A weak flush crawled up her neck area into her cheeks. She busied herself by closing down the PC and complaining over a pile of papers. "Are you done with the day yet?" She looked behind her at a dark feline clock with a swinging tail. "I'm going to the art school with a friend to see a new student exhibit." Ginevra rushed out of the dressing room immediately.

"Alessio, I have class in an hour." "Could you at any point return me to Manhattan?" Yes, of course. Ginevra, in a hurry, inexplicably chose to take the subway rather than the car service most of the time. "And, Signorina Camelia, will you also be going to Manhattan?" "Well, yes, but I don't want to cause you any trouble."

"No annoyance." Ginevra pulled on her short fleece coat and belted it. "Come on, it'll be entertaining." Her happy gaze swung back and forth between her brother and the dressmaker. Alessio gave her an impartial grin. So his younger sibling had gotten on his attraction to Camelia and was playing matchmaker. Because she was in love, everyone else ought to be in love as well. He was mature enough to know better. Young, foolish men and fresh young girls were the objects of love. "If you're certain."

Camelia draped herself in a black trench coat, her striking red lips and hair catching his attention. She resembled a seductive spy from a wartime film, the courageous agent appearing at her contact’s place on a misty night, clad in her trench coat and little else. Or perhaps in a corset and that black garter belt he had imagined earlier...

"Alessio? Alessio!" Ginevra's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Camelia is waiting for you to set the alarm."

Grateful for the distraction, Giorgio rushed to the door, still hiding his suit coat in front of him. Paolo swiftly pulled up the black limo, opening the doors for them.

"Camelia, you sit in the back with Alessio. I want to catch up with Paolo," Ginevra directed, continuing her plan. Giorgio doubted Paolo's conversational skills. Camelia, unaware of this, settled into the leather seat as they navigated through traffic to the Brooklyn Bridge.

As they admired the bridge's architecture, Camelia's phone buzzed. "Oh, darn. My friend Flick can't make it to the gallery," She sighed, replying to the text before stowing her phone away. Alessio seized the opportunity.

"I'd be glad to accompany you to the exhibit. I have no plans," he offered, discreetly glancing at Ginevra, who was engrossed in conversation with Paolo.

Camelia smiled. "Are you sure?"

"I would enjoy it," Alessio replied, not wanting to reveal his acquiescence to Ginevra's scheme.

"In that case, Alessio, I'd be happy to show you around."

"It's my pleasure," Alessio responded, cherishing the thought of spending time with her without appearing too eager. "I am Reginaldi—we appreciate beautiful art of all kinds."