There’s an energy and attention to detail that makes Ever a Princess quite fun to read, but the enjoyment is hampered by the fact that so many of the plot points have the wispy logic of a fever dream. When the king and queen of Saxe-Wallerstein-Karolya are murdered by a usurper, Princess Georgiana and a small retinue of loyal servants flee to a deserted estate in Scotland to hide out and wait for a chance to help Giana reclaim her throne. Their plans are complicated by the estate’s new American owner, Adam McKendrick, who has come to investigate his new-won property with an eye towards turning it into an upscale resort for sportsmen. Adam is a self-made man with a tendency to rescue women in distress that has earned him a reputation as the hero of a series of dime novels featuring the Bountiful Baron, Benefactor to Blond, Beautiful, and Betrayed Women. Adam thinks the stories are ridiculous, but no sooner has he arrived in Scotland than his eye is caught by a fair, well-spoken serving maid.

The maid, of course, is Princess Giana, who with her servants poses as the estate’s domestic staff. This is where the plot begins to thicken into clumps, because although Giana and her servants don’t otherwise seem stupid, their actions don’t bespeak any discretion or forethought at all. The first time that Adam turns his back on his new servant, everybody gasps and Giana is stunned. Apparently, it hadn’t occurred to any of them that Adam might treat his new maid as a maid, or that they should mask their reactions when he does. It’s almost as if they’re deliberately baiting Adam to toss them out as quickly as possible. They ignore his orders, fire his cook, and won’t even serve him coffee because Giana prefers tea. All of this leads to some enjoyable comedy, but it’s a too-thin contrivance to throw Adam and Giana together as awkwardly as possible. In the staff’s view, it is somehow reasonable to have Princess Giana scrubbing the hearth in a black silk Worth gown while her own lady’s maid (masquerading as Giana’s sister) does none of the heavy lifting because it would be an insult to her position.

All but one of the major plot threads are stamped with this same brand of twisted logic. The rigamarole that Giana’s usurping cousin must endure to ascend the throne doesn’t make a lot of sense – he either has to marry her or redeem the royal signet ring and/or Giana’s dead body like a book of green stamps. However, an exceptionally well-thought-out presentation of diplomatic strategy is a highlight of the book. One reason that Giana doesn’t run straight to Queen Victoria is because she realizes that having Right on her side may not be enough, and that political necessities may force the Queen to side with the bad guy. It’s more savvy than I’ve seen in a lot of heroines.

Somehow, the story doesn’t get bogged down in the illogic, to the great credit of the writing. A major reason for this is that the characters don’t dwell on the less-sensible plot points. It would really drive the problem home if Adam reacted to Giana’s deception by foaming at the mouth over the betrayal of it all; since he takes it pretty well in stride, it’s much easier to pass over the point and move on.

Giana is a fun heroine: smart, strong, and committed to her people. She neatly avoids the worst of the typical princess failings – she’s neither spoiled nor fatuously naïve. Adam is a good guy too, but the Bountiful Baron bears the brunt of the beating by the short end of the logic stick, which can make him seem slower than he otherwise appears. It might have helped if the Bountiful Baron issue was more than a wasted opportunity. Adam’s viewpoint chapters open with quotes from the bestselling dime novels, but every one of them is so profoundly boring that it’s impossible to imagine how they could possibly attract any non-insomniac fans. The romantic connection between Adam and Giana is a good one. Adam’s aggressive advances towards an undefended maid could seem distasteful, except that from the first Giana asserts herself so forcefully that they never appear to be less than equals.

This book has a playful energy that makes it a little more than the sum of its parts. I’m definitely intrigued enough to seek out the other books in this series, which are framed by a clever backstory of a dying nobleman who did right by his mistresses by bequeathing them each a locket that could be redeemed for a sizable inheritance. This and many details like it seem to exist for the sheer pleasure of creating them. So many romances I’ve read lately seem satisfied with by-the-numbers storytelling with no inventive detail at all, but from start to finish, Ever a Princess feels like a tale willing to go the extra mile.