Noah had never been happier for his lessons about small talk, entertaining dignitaries, and appearing like he was having a grand old time when he really just wanted to go home.
He carried the conversation almost single-handedly with Zara’s parents, who couldn’t seem to do much more than ask him a question and then wait for the answers.
How old are you?
How old are you?How many siblings do you have?
How many siblings do you have?Do you have a job?
Do you have a job?Zara finally said, “Dad, stop grilling him.”
“I am not grilling him,” her father said. “I am getting to know him. It’s normal to ask questions.”
“So you have no job?” her mom asked, as if she didn’t believe him the first time.
“Well, I’m a prince,” he said. “My job is to volunteer around the country and serve the people.”
