The next morning I'm gifted with a hangover and a ten am start at the diner. I groan all the way through my morning routine, making short work of two coffees before I've even left the building.

On the way to work I pass a man with brown eyes in the street, and I'm suddenly struck with sadness at the fact that I'll never get to see the brown eyes that I saw last night again. Then I tell myself to get a grip. He was a stranger.

I'm absorbed in thoughts like this when I hear my name called from across the street, right before I'm about to reach work.

'Riley!'

I look up to see the cute, smaller guy from last night, Maxwell, jaywalking towards me, getting abuse hurled at him along the way.

'Maxwell?' I ask, as he finally reaches me, looking unperturbed by the obscenities being shouted from the front window of a cab which speeds past.

'Hi! Glad I caught you. We're heading back to Cordonia so that Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia.'

If it's possible for a person to buffer in real life, that is what I do upon hearing this sentence.

'What?'

'You wouldn't usually be allowed to join, but I want to sponsor you!' Maxwell says happily. I continue to look completely and utterly lost.

'...Sponsor me?'

'I'm from a noble house, but I don't have any sisters, so we don't have anyone in contention to marry the Prince. Instead, we can sponsor any girl we choose. And you're my pick!'

He looks at me like I should be jumping up and down for joy. Instead, I stand there in my work uniform, clutching my coffee cup (another one) looking absolutely bewildered.

'But... why me?' I finally manage to ask.

'I'm not just doing it for you. I saw how Liam looked at you last night. I've not seen him so happy in a long time. I liked it, we all did. We're kinda crunched for time though. Our plane leaves this afternoon.'

My head spins. 'Just... slow down,' I say, taking a step back and holding my hands up. It's too early, and my head is still pounding.

'No time to waste! The opening masquerade ball is tonight. It's the start of the... uh, I guess you could say it's the start of the competition,' he tells me.

'What do you mean?'

'There's a whole hoard of gorgeous, rich noble women vying to become Cordonia's next queen. And it's not just about winning the prince's hand. You've also got to prove to the council that you can rule Cordonia with him. But I think you've got what it takes. You've already proved you're witty and charming,' he says, smiling widely.

Queen? Queen?! Is what I want to shout. But I don't.

'Oh. Thanks. So, a fancy masquerade and... what else?'

'Fun stuff, I promise! You'll get to go yachting in the Med, skiing in the Alps, and dancing in the royal palace. Or... y'know. You could stay here and get on with your waitressing gig with your crappy boss. That's probably just as good,' he finishes, looking down the road to where the diner stands waiting.

I'm very aware of the fact that, as I stand on the pavement with this guy I barely know in central New York, this is one of those critical moments in life people always talk about. Turning points. I should feel scared, and I should tell this guy that he's crazy. Queen!

But... not twelve hours ago I had been sitting talking to a guy about how it was my dream to travel, and now this offer... I look at Maxwell.

'I'm broke,' I say.

'We'll pay for everything,' he reassures me. I blink.

'Everything?'

'Everything. I promise.'

'And Liam really is a prince? This isn't some, like... weird, kidnapping scheme?'

He grins, and pulls out what looks to be a very formal invitation.

'Here,' he says, handing it to me.

It looks legitimate. Like... really, properly legitimate. There's a coat of arms, a wax seal, and the paper is heavy. Expensive.

I look towards the diner, where my shift started one minute ago, and then back to Maxwell.

'I'm in,' I say, feeling slightly light-headed.

'Great!' he exclaims, looking genuinely excited. 'You'll need to pack, of course. I can help you rent out your apartment while you're gone if you like, but you don't need to. And you'll have to quit your job... actually, there's quite a lot to do.'

'Don't make me second guess myself,' I beg, wondering what the hell I'm doing.

'Okay, sorry! We haven't got long, though. I'll wait here while you talk to your boss, and then we'll go to your apartment so you can pack. Be quick, though!' he says, shooing me away.

I walk obediently down the street towards the diner, still clutching my coffee. What the hell? What the hell?

Upon entering the diner, my boss, Andrew, is instantly in my face.

'You're two minutes late,' he scowls, waving a piece of paper in my face. Which annoys me enough to give me courage.

'I have to quit,' I say, straight to his face. He freezes, and doesn't reply, which I take as an invitation to continue.

'There's been a... family emergency. I'm going to Europe. Today. I don't know when I'll be back. Sorry it's such short notice.'

Andrew is turning an alarming shade of purple.

'So I guess I'll just...' I say, stepping carefully backwards out of the door before speed-walking back up the street to Maxwell.

'Great, you were fast! I got us a cab; it'll be quicker,' he says, ushering me inside. 'Address?'

I tell him, and then we're driving. 'Are you okay? You look kinda...'

'I'm hungover. I quit my job. And I've just agreed to move continents with complete strangers. So if I look a bit pale, that'll be why,' I say. Maxwell bursts out laughing.

'I like you. And we're not strangers! We met yesterday!' he reminds me cheerfully.

'Oh, right!' I say, hitting my forehead with my palm.

Before I know it he's in my apartment, and I'm questioning every decision I ever made.

'Pack what you'll need for say... a month or two? We can have some stuff put into storage for you, and then anything else you can leave for the people who rent it out,' Maxwell is saying, and I'm nodding along as though this is all very normal.

It's fine, I keep saying to myself. All fine. You moved to New York on a whim; this is no different. You were in a rut. This is good. It's fine.

An hour later I'm packed, leaving my key with yet another stranger who Maxwell has called to organise storing my possessions, and we're getting in a cab to go to the airport.

'We should be fine, there's an hour until take off,' Maxwell says, settling back into his seat.

'An hour?' I ask, incredulously. 'That's not nearly enough time to get there and check in my luggage and get through security, not to mention I'll have to buy a ticket...' I trail off as he gives me a funny look.

'We're flying private, of course,' he says, like it's no big deal.

'Oh, right. Obviously,' I say.

Half an hour later we're at the airport, and a mere twenty minutes later we're boarding the private jet. I'm so absorbed with being in a private jet that I don't immediately notice the only other passenger on board.

'Cutting it a bit fine there, Maxwell,' Drake says, his eyes grazing over him before coming to rest on me.

'We were fine, we had ages,' Maxwell says, even as he's ushered onto the plane and the door is pulled shut behind him by one of the cabin crew.

'Hi,' I say, suddenly acutely aware that I'm still in my work clothes.

'Hello again,' Drake says.