Girls Like Englishmen (Chapter 4)

The night after that day, Madeline's mother set up the table in the dining room for dinner. She cooked the food and arranged the plates to make a good impression for her daughter. Around six, Mason arrived and Madeline's dad let him in. Mason sat down with the family to enjoy a dinner of baked chicken, peas and mashed potatoes. He sat next to Madeline who sat across from her parents.
"This is a lovely dinner, Mister and Missus King," Mason remarked.
"Oh, I didn't cook the food," admitted Mr. King. "You should thank my wife right here. She's a regular in the kitchen."
"Oh, honey," Mrs. King blushed.
"Wonderful food you made," said Mason to Madeline's mother.
"Thank you. You should call me Paula Deen."
"Nobody likes Paula Deen, mom," said Madeline.
"We are thrilled to have you for dinner, Mason," Mr. King confessed.
"I feel the same as well," said Mason. "You guys created such a lovely daughter."
"What do you mean by 'create'?"
"Shut up, dad," Madeline demanded.
"My apologies. I shouldn't disrespect a prince."
Madeline widened her eyes.
"Excuse me?" inquired Mason.
"We've heard that you're a prince in London," responded Madeline's mom.
"A prince?"
"A royal prince," said Madeline's dad.
Madeline shook her head endlessly while staring at her parents.
"Uh, what makes you assume that I'm a royal prince?" asked Mason.
"Well, we heard you were rich," answered Mrs. King.
"Like us," her husband added.
"You own a mansion."
"Like us."
"With a golf course and a swimming pool."
"Not like us. Yet we admire that."
"You practically fly to wherever whenever you want on your jet, don't you?"
"Not really," answered Mason. "My dad owns two jets and tells me when I can use them."
"So your dad's a king?" asked Madeline's father. "That's amazing."
"Truly amazing," Madeline's mother agreed.
"Does he play ping-pong with the Pope in a ball pit?"
"Oh, that sounds like fun!"
"It does," consented Mason, "but my father doesn't do any of that."
"So they play fooseball in a ball pit?" asked Madeline's dad.
"No, my dad doesn't know the Pope. He doesn't even know his own father."
"Your dad is one of the low-key kings?" questioned Mrs. King.
Mason glanced at Madeline who stopped shaking her head when she felt his eyes on her.
"What is going on?" he asked. "You people think I'm royalty?"
"Um, no," replied Mr. King. "We know you're royalty."
"You think just because I'm from England, I'm basically a prince?"
"No, not at all," Madeline's mom answered. "It's just that Madeline said--"
"Madeline said nothing," she said in third person.
"So let's get this straight," said her dad. "If my daughter marries you in a later future, she won't become a princess?"
"Cor blimey, no," Mason responded.
"So she won't have any occupation that involves wearing a crown?"
"Absolutely not. I don't even own a crown, although I can afford one."
"So you would have the crown for her?"
"I-I don't even know. Madeline, do you know?"
Madeline's eyes widened. "I know that I'm screwed," she nervously chuckled.