“Thank you. So, I’m right to be mad. Now reason three—my mom.” Her voice softened as she spoke of her mother. “She spent her whole life catering to and sacrificing for me. I feel like if she wants me to do this, then it is the least I can do.”
“Giving up your nationality, your home, and privacy in order to make your mom happy is a bit much. I do not know what to say for that one,” I replied, only joking.
“Giving up my nationality?” she asked.
“Nobles and royals can only have allegiance to one country. Ersovia.”
“Well, you’re starting to help me think of cons, thank you.”
“Let me not help too much,” I replied, shifting more on the bed as she relaxed. “What did your mom do that made you change your mind? You were very upset at her earlier, no?”
“I was,” she stated, pouring more wine for the both of us. “Then I went to the fundraiser and watched as my stepmother embarrassed her while everyone else ignored her.”
“So, you figure if you were married to a prince, no one would dare it.”
“Yep.”
“It is a very good reason.”
“You’re just saying that because you want me to marry you.”
“Not at all. Upholding your mother’s honor is very noble. I’m impressed.” I bowed my head to her, and she just rolled her eyes.
“It’s not just that. My mom has always wanted me to be something great. It’s like something she has to prove to herself. Augusta’s mom is smart. Her mom is a member of the board for my father’s company. My mom barely finished high school.”
“So, if her daughter were the one that ended up married to a prince, she would feel better about what she failed to accomplish.” I sobered at that. I could tell her mother cared about her daughter by the way she spoke about her in the car. However, I could also sense she truly wanted to climb further up in society. Meanwhile, her daughter did not seem to care—the irony.
“I’d hoped I would be able to live up to being some great, world-famous singer, but that isn’t really working out, either.”
“You have been nominated for awards, though.”
“Never won any.”
“Still, my sister is a huge fan of yours.”
“Really?”
“She almost broke down in tears when my parents wouldn’t let her go to a concert of yours in New York. Apparently, you don’t do them often?”
“Yeah.” She brushed the curls from her face. “I get stage fright when I’m asked to sing live and on stage.”
I was shocked by that. “Really?” I thought musicians and actors lived for the limelight.
“New subject,” she stated, suddenly changing the subject. The look she gave was if it were my fault. “This is far too deep of a conversation for people who just met.”
“Deep conversations are made for wine at midnight in bedrooms.”
“Are you an expert?”
“You came to me, remember? So, are you the expert?”
“And if I were?” She held up her head.
“Teach me your ways.” I bowed my head.
She pushed my head away. “Can you believe this? That we’re strangers—”
“At this point, we are, at the very least, acquaintances.”
She thought about it. “Acquaintances who just say, ‘Oh, yeah, I’ll get married because I’m told to by my family or because I need money.’”
“Yes, that seems correct.” I chuckled, finishing off the wine. It was very sweet. “The higher you are in the world, the more strings you have attached to make sure you do not fly off, or so my father says.”
“You can’t just say father like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because your father is a king.”
I shrugged. “He is still my father, though.”
“Yeah, but I feel like when you talk about kings, you have to say it with...I don’t know, more gravitas in your voice or something.”
“For commoners maybe—”
“Oh, the commoners,” she teased.
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”
“I was expecting you to say something like, Be silent!” Her voice dropped as she teased me again.
“You are starting to make me self-conscious over how I speak.”
“Don’t be. It’s cute in a way.”
“‘It’s cute,’ you say.” I leaned closer to her, and she pushed me to the side, making a face at me.
“Oh, don’t pretend as if you haven’t ever been told that you’re handsome.”
“No, never,” I lied, pleased by the direction of this conversation.
“So you are the ugliest man in Ersovia? No wonder they had to look outside the country for someone to consent to marry you.”
“First, you accuse me of being a playboy, and then you tell me I am ugly.”
“The second part was sarcasm.”
“So, the first part is what you honestly think of me?”
She drank, not answering me.
I did not think I had ever met someone who seemed to want to fight me so much. And I just met her. “You are probably the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.”
She scoffed, “I’m just probably the only one who doesn’t treat you like a prince.”
“Yes, what is up with that?” I said with the same accent I had seen in some American movies.
She had already smacked me, pushed me, and insulted me to my face.
“Well, Your Highness,” she said. “Along with your Dalsgaard syndrome, I’m also, as people would say, coldhearted.”
“Do explain.” I shifted to face her more.
She turned as well. “I don’t do love Gale. And for some reason, no matter how rich or famous people are, I simply don’t care. I’ve met rock stars, politicians, Nobel Peace Prize winners, and each time, I have to force myself to be excited or smile for the cameras.”
“I suppose that is a side effect of being the daughter of one of the richest men in the world.”
“Oh no, because Augusta cried the first time she met Beyoncé, like full-on sobbing. Meanwhile, I was like, ‘Hi. Yes, I enjoy your music. Can you pass the dressing?’ It was pitiful. My sister calls me Odette, the Cold-hearted. So it’s not just you, Prince Gale.”
That wasn’t a worst thing for me. It was actually a breath of fresh air compared to the people always around me. However, did that mean she had never been in love?
“What does move you then?” I asked her.
“Nothing.”
“Something must. Your father’s legacy, for example. You said how you do not want to give that up.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Yeah. But that doesn’t really move me. I’m not impressed by it so much as I feel like I need to protect it for my father’s sake. I guess if anything really drew out my emotions, it would be my mom. Maybe good music and food.”
“That is a little pitiful.” I snickered.
“Don’t judge me!”
“Why not? You have been judging me since we met.”
She made a face. And I made one back.