Theo put his hands on his hips, peering down at the ground.
“I’m so sorry,” I croaked. “I don’t want to hurt you, but after the bombing, things seem different to me. And I think if we stayed together, we’d both end up resenting each other. I don’t want that for either of us.”
He worked his jaw back and forth, staying silent.
“Your Highness?” Theo’s assistant stood in the door. “Your father is waiting for you.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.”
He bowed and stepped away.
“I have to go.” Theo took a step, his eyes scouring my face. “Get some rest, and we’ll talk more about this later, okay? I need you by my side tonight. Your family will be here…our friends. Please.”
I nodded.
Emotion crossed over his face before he swung around and strode out of the room.
I expected to feel like shite after, or at least I feel reassured I said what I needed to. Instead, I had a deep sense of dread…like somehow, fate had other ideas for me.
Chapter 5
“There is no question of you going to the gala. Tonight is highly imperative.” Chloe stood in the middle of my room, a panicked expression straining her cheeks. She was particularly tense and stressed about this event. “This evening needs to be perfect. Everything has been choreographed and arranged down to the most minuscule detail.”
“I know.” I was trying to push through, but the later the evening got, the more my bones wanted to collapse in a heap. “I thought maybe I could sneak out early? No one will notice.”
“Everyone will notice,” she screeched, her arms flying out, but she quickly regained herself, taking a deep breath. The woman was never flustered, always ready to respond with a cool head. “All eyes will be on you. The people want to see you. It will be great press to show how resilient and strong you are. It will do wonders for your likeability. The media will eat it up as will the public. And it’s the biggest party of the year. You will leave when Theo does.”
Likeability. That’s all I heard, all anyone seemed to care about. My image. My “likeability” with the press and public. My mom brought it up when I talked to her on the phone. Even Eloise had said it when she visited me earlier.
“Still wounded after such a traumatic event just a few days ago, you’ll show up looking dazzling and resilient, showing them exactly what you are made of. You are proving you are one of us. True royalty. They will love you.” When Heidi came in, Eloise dashed out of my room to go get ready, the truth sticking on my tongue.
My assistant pranced around my room like a show pony, organizing the makeup artist and stylist. My lack of enthusiasm to stay for the whole time had her calling in backup. Chloe returned to the room and didn’t even let me get a word out before she was telling me under no circumstances could I get out of this…even if I was bedridden.
“Tonight is extra special, and, to be honest, this is a perfect opportunity. I couldn’t have even bought this kind of publicity.” Chole patted at her sleek blonde ponytail.
“People are dead.” My fists rolled into balls. “Families throughout Great Victoria are grieving for those they lost…this is not a publicity stunt.”
“We can’t change what happened. I am sorry for those people. I truly am. It’s awful, but that doesn’t mean good can’t come out of it.” Chloe tapped at her earpiece, her attention no longer on me. “Go ahead. What? Are you kidding me? I told them their passes had been rescinded for this event! How dare they presume to be let in after all the negative press,” she yelled, stomping out of the room.
“Spencer?” Heidi motioned me to the chair they set up in my room, the makeup artist ready for me. “We are already behind schedule.”
After being primped, prodded, teased, plucked, and fluffed, I was zipped up into an exquisite gown. There seemed to be extra care with my looks for this event; Heidi kept telling them I needed more. Picture perfect, she kept saying. Standing in the mirror, I stared at myself, almost unrecognizable. A doll. The caked-on makeup tried to hide my wounds, my hair curled softly down my back, and draped with precise royal family picked jewelry. The tiers of dusty mauve tulle cascaded to the floor, the heart-shaped sequin bodice glinting in the light. Beautiful on the outside, but it scratched at my skin and wrapped around my ribs like barbed wire.
“We must go.” Heidi snapped her fingers. “Theo is waiting.”
I wobbled on my tall heels, gritting my teeth against the stabs of pain every movement brought on. People buzzed around me, talking, the stylists still fussing with me. The painkillers eased it enough for me to breathe through the aching and keep going.
Theo waited for me near the divide between residence and the palace, looking handsome in a tux, his hair perfectly styled.
His eyes widened and a huge smile formed on his face. “You look beautiful.” He reached for me, kissing my cheek.
“Thank you.” I smiled stiffly back. Everything felt weird and wrong. Trying to lighten the strain between us, I said, “They wouldn’t allow me to wear my sweats. Though, I almost got away with my Chucks in this dress.”
“Could you imagine if the press caught you wearing your Chucks?” He shook his head, not taking the bait. “Disastrous.”
My brow furrowed. My Chucks would be appalling? Was he serious? After the bombing…that was disastrous?
I felt like I was on this cusp of reality and fantasy. How easily I could slip over to where I also thought getting my picture taken in my Chucks would be “disastrous.” Where my sense of priority was so far off, I could no longer relate to people struggling for food, housing, jobs. Doing my own laundry or buying my own clothes would be a foreign concept.
I really looked at Theo. When did it happen? Did I not even notice the boy I loved at school wasn’t the guy before me? We used to tease and laugh, call bullshite on superficial royal crap. One reason I fell for him was he seemed to see through it.
Now I couldn’t even recall the last time we were like that—when we laughed or teased each other. This role had changed him. Understandably, but still, I longed for the boy who sat in the pub with his friends taking the piss they dealt out. He was serious all the time now, acting far older than his age. No longer a prince, but a future king.
“Come on. The media is waiting for us.” He took my hand, directing us to where the press waited, the sound of their cameras and flashes leaking through the door.
My head lifted, looking ahead.
My lungs wedged against my ribs, a gasp sticking in my throat.
Lennox stood near the door, his arms clasped low in front of him, eyes straight ahead, his shoulders back. He wore a tux, trying to mingle as another guest, but nothing about him blended into the background. He stood out, even his presence took over the space, demanding eyes on him, commanding attention. The tux fit his body like a glove, blooming warmth down my legs, pooling in my belly.
Now that I fully acknowledged my feelings, I could no longer hide my reaction. My emotions simmered on the surface, making it hard for me to keep up the façade—to pretend he barely existed.
His eyes slid to me, then went back forward, only a nerve in his jaw displayed any emotion. “Your Highness.” He bowed his head, addressing Theo. It was clear their relationship had changed, something not spoken or acknowledged, but intuition dictated.