“Mrs. Fletcher has a soft spot for lonely souls,” Madeline said with a laugh as she grabbed the carrots then rinsed them off.
Finally, a name. Mrs. Fletcher: The woman with a soft spot for lonely souls. Well, that certainly explained why she liked me so much.
People practically had competitions for a chance to be near the royals. They were surrounded by an entire nation who adored them.
“Why would a prince be lonely?”
The older woman glanced at a large wooden clock above the door. “Ask him yourself. He’ll be down for breakfast any minute now.”
So much for having breakfast at the castle.
I tossed the half-eaten apple in the trash bin. “I wish I could, but I’m running late for… a thing.” The elastic band on my big girl panties snapped and fell to my feet, taking all the courage I had when I woke up with it. I needed to leave before I ended up showing everyone my butt. After last night, I had no idea what would come out of the prince’s mouth. While I was more than ready to face him, I wasn’t ready to do it in front of an audience.
Madeline laughed while Mrs. Fletcher shook her head, wiping her hands on the gray apron tied around her adorably round figure.
“You can’t run from him forever,” Madeline called after me as I headed out into the hall.
Maybe not. But I could run from him for now.
My father always said it seemed as though Torryn was able to manipulate time. We had all the modern conveniences of the world—Starbucks, Wi-Fi, and five-star restaurants—but we’d somehow been able to skip all the clutter that came with it. There were no shopping malls or streets filled with traffic. Instead, we had strings of shops along brick-paved roads and couples riding bicycles. We were sophisticated, yet simple. Luxurious, yet understated. A true natural wonder.
Thornebridge Castle sat on a hill against the southern shore, overlooking the capital city of Valetta. It could be seen from almost anywhere. Even when I wanted to get away from it, it was always there.
I took the train into the city. Unless you were a royal, that was the only way to get back and forth from the castle. The streets were bustling with Sunday shoppers enjoying their last day of recreation before they began another week. Shop owners lined their sidewalks with buckets of fresh flowers and artwork on easels. A man cycled past a group of children blowing bubbles into the wind while their parents chatted over morning coffee. Life went on. While I felt trapped inside a prison with gold-trimmed walls and marble floors, the sun still rose. People still laughed. The world still turned. And I thought I was better off pretending it didn’t.
Until now.
I stood outside my favorite restaurant, glancing over today’s specials written on the chalkboard stand.
Someone grabbed my elbow. “Katie Bellizzi? No fucking way.”
I spun around to see my best friend Chelsea standing behind me. Her face was like a beacon in the middle of a raging storm. It was funny how something as small as a familiar touch or the signature scent of your best friend’s shampoo could bring so many emotions rushing to the surface. I had a life, a life where I sang sappy love songs at the top of my lungs and rode carnival rides on the pier and had bonfires at the beach. That was all before. I missed that life. I missed me.
She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Oh my God. You’re alive.” Chelsea had a flair for dramatics. “You mean you finally left the palace to come socialize with us commoners?” And sarcasm.
I stepped away and rolled my eyes. “More like I slayed the dragon and escaped from the tower.”
“So, did the dragon eat your cell phone because…” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, scrolling through text messages and knowing none of them were from me.
I swallowed the lump of guilt and regret building in my throat. The last time I called Chelsea was on her birthday three weeks ago. Her boyfriend planned this big bonfire on the beach. Everyone we went to high school with was there. They played sand volleyball and made s’mores while one of our old friends played a special song for her on his guitar. It was everything Chelsea would’ve wanted from a twenty-fifth birthday. And I wasn’t there. I watched the whole thing unravel in Instagram stories while I sank deeper into my comforter and drowned in self-pity. If I were her, I would punch me in the face right now. I sucked as a friend.
Before that, we had talked maybe two other times since I moved into the castle. My father’s death devastated me. I threw everything I had into salvaging the farm because that was the cord that tethered me to him. When they took that, they took me. They took my past, present, and a huge part of my future, and expected to make it better with a royal address and fancy job title. Everything good and light that I had to look back on or look forward to was gone, and I was left alone in the darkness. I shut down. I hid inside myself because it was safe there. The one thing I could depend on, the one person I knew would never leave me, was me. Then I started to disappear too.
“Would you believe me if I said I lost your number?”
“Nice try, but no.”
“If I feed you pastizzi and give you wine will you forgive me?” Eating pastizzi and drinking wine was our favorite way to exorcise our demons, to purge the responsibilities of the world and watch them disappear into the bottom of a bottle of pinot. At least it used to be.
“Fine, but I want the good shit. You’re a castle native now. I’m expecting the best.”
She had serious delusions about my new life. Chelsea held up two fingers to the hostess.
“Right this way, ladies,” the girl said as she grabbed two menus then nodded for us to follow.
Chelsea pulled out the chair across from me and sat, thanking the hostess before she walked away. “You look gorgeous,” I told her because everyone knew the best way to climb your way out of a dung hole was with flattery. Right?
She opened her menu and pretended to scan the contents as if she hadn’t always ordered the same thing for the past five years. “And you look sad.”
Maybe I wasn’t as good at faking it as I’d hoped.
“I miss it.” My home. My dad. My friends. My laugh. “My life.”
She set down the menu, then reached her arms across the table and grabbed my hands. Tiny wisps of chestnut brown hair fell from her French braid and across her forehead. Her tanned skin made mine look pale. We used to have competitions to see who could get the famed golden Mediterranean glow fastest. She definitely won this time. Which was a serious tragedy since I had a beach at my back door.
The waiter appeared with a bottle of wine and two glasses of water. We placed our order, waiting for him to pour the wine and leave before we continued.
“You didn’t lose your life, Katie. You just got a better one.”
“My dad is dead, Chels. I never see Mama. I don’t go anywhere or do anything. I serve no purpose. I have nothing. How is that better?”
She finished her sip of wine then set the glass on the table. “I’m going to stop you right there.” She pointed at my wine glass. “Take a drink. You’re going to need it.” She waited for me to take my glass. “I’m sorry about your dad. I truly am. I loved him too. And I can’t imagine the pain you felt when you lost him. But your mom is right there with you. She didn’t die. If you don’t see her enough, change that. Invite her to lunch. Watch a movie with her. You might not agree with the choice she made not to fight for the farm, but she is still your mother.” I hated how right she was. I spent so much time avoiding the queen that I hadn’t put a lot of effort into spending time with Mama. I did that. It was my fault, not hers. “And you aren’t a prisoner, Katie. The walls of Thornebridge aren’t holding you in. You can leave any time you want. I mean, you left today and no one stopped you, right? You just have to get up and do it. My God, do you have any idea how many people would kill for your life right now? You live in a fucking castle and get paid to read books all day. It’s like you’re Belle in Beauty and the Beast or some shit.” Chelsea cursed like a sailor and still managed to make it look ladylike. “And don’t even get me started on that beast Prince Sutton…”