by Piper Rayne
“Be careful. You know how the press is when you’ve been gone a long time,” the king says to Adrian, who doesn’t bother to respond.
I’ve sat through many uncomfortable dinners—ones where my dad barely talked, the one where I had to meet Fae and she kept telling me how much she enjoyed spending time with my father, the first dinner with Ethan and Blanca as a couple, their hands disappearing under the table. But no dinner has ever been as uncomfortable as this one.
“This is the small downtown area.” Adrian points at the cobblestone road that leads to what appears to be a small town where buildings are built on top of buildings. It’s quaint and reminds me of something you’d see on a postcard. “I would’ve liked to drive you myself, but my father is right. Your safety is my first concern.”
Clyde opens up my door and I step out, the sun shining on us.
Adrian follows and his hand finds mine. “I have a chocolate shop I want to show you first.”
He walks as though he’s on a mission, and I struggle to keep up. A few people point and whisper, but they’re smiling. It’s what I imagine being with a celebrity walking down Hollywood Boulevard in LA must feel like, but Adrian seems oblivious to it.
He opens the door of the shop and the sweet aroma of chocolate fills my nostrils.
“I love it already.” I walk through the tables filled with chocolate-coated everything from Rice Krispies Treats to raisins.
There’s a small cafe attached to the shop, where Adrian disappears while I take an offered sample from the man behind the counter.
“Thank you,” I say before biting into caramel gooeyness. “It’s delicious.”
He smiles and bows.
Adrian comes over and hands me a drink. “Latte.”
The man bows again, offering him chocolate. Adrian takes one, bowing his head slightly in appreciation. Once he finishes chewing, he sips his drink.
“Did you like it?” Adrian asks me.
I nod enthusiastically. “Yes.”
“We’ll take a pound,” he says to the man.
A few minutes later, we leave the chocolate shop and Adrian hands the bag to Clyde, who I think might be John Cena 2.0’s brother. The resemblance is uncanny.
“You said you wanted some clothes? “Adrian asks, his hand on the small of my back.
A man steps in front of us and takes our picture, sliding out of the way as we walk by. Adrian’s unfazed and keeps walking while my heart beats a hard rhythm.
“Where do those pictures get published?” I whisper.
“Newspapers, magazines. Similar to the States.”
“Oh, so, like, Sandsal knows who I am?”
He chuckles and it draws more attention to us. “They’ve known about you since we walked off the plane. You really haven’t been checking your blogs or news since we got here, have you?”
“No.” I don’t tell him it’s because I’m worried about what they will say.
“Sierra,” one of the photographers calls, “what did you do to convince Prince Adrian to go rogue?”
Snap.
Adrian shields me and we duck into the closest store. “I’m sorry. This is part of it.”
“Hello, how can I help you?” a woman standing behind the counter asks.
“We’re looking, or she’s looking, for a few things,” Adrian says.
A few reporters go to the window, and another woman who works there shuts all the blinds to block their view.
“Thank you,” I say, my hand covering my heart. I thought I’d be prepared for the scrutiny of the press, but I’m not there yet.
“Of course. We understand how hard it must be to date a prince.” The woman has a kind smile. I need that after being in Adrian’s house and being treated as though I’m on top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list. “What can I show you?”
I peruse the store. It has a few things that are my style. I was worried I’d never be able to dress how I want here.
After taking all the clothes I pulled off the racks, the woman says, “The fitting rooms are in the back.”
Adrian’s phone rings. “This won’t take long,” he says before kissing my neck.
I follow the woman to the back of the store, and she opens a fitting room for me. Thankfully, it’s identical to the ones back home. I need some familiarity right now. After putting on a dress, I step out to the three-way mirror and inspect how I look from different angles.
The woman who shut the blinds rests her shoulder on the wall, watching me. “It was made for you.”
I smile, needing the sucking up she’s probably doing because of who I’m here with. “I do love it.”
“You’ll need a hat,” she says, disappearing.
While I’m in the fitting room, I realize I took the wrong size of the next item I want to try on, so I put my pants and blouse back on and head out to the sales floor. The two women are folding sweaters with their backs to me.
“How does anyone think that Prince Adrian would marry her? She’s not even close to a princess level beauty. She’s so plain.”
The other one laughs. “You know how he likes his women.”
“Yes—without attachments.”
“Exactly. She’s temporary.”
“But he did bring her all the way back from America.”
“I’ll bet she’s gone in a week. He loves to piss off his parents. That’s all she’s here for.”
I circle on my heels and head back to the fitting room, my stomach suddenly not feeling well. As I sit in the fitting room, I pull out my phone and read the articles talking about me and Adrian. The skepticism, their ridicule of me, and the judgment that all points to one shared opinion—I’m not good enough to be with Adrian and I will never be a princess.
“Hey, babe, you done?” Adrian knocks on the door.
I clear my throat, wiping any tears from my eyes. “Yeah.” I open the door and grab my purse.
“You didn’t like anything?” he asks. “I bet your ass looked amazing in that dress.”
“Nothing fit the way I’d like.”
“Then on to the next store.” He grabs my hand.
The woman stops us right before we leave. “I thought that dress was meant for you. You’re not going to buy it?”
“No, it was really too plain,” I say and her smile falls.
Too bad I sort of agree with her. Adrian shines as bright as the sun, and I’m not sure I’m good enough to stand in his shadow. If I continue feeling this way, how can I possibly stand at his side? Somewhere inside me is the self-esteem I need. I just need to dig it out.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sierra
* * *
After telling Adrian he cannot sneak into my room, I suffer through another night alone in the palace. Three days have passed. After the shopping excursion, I told Adrian I didn’t want to go outside.
The queen hasn’t stopped watching me as if I’m a science experiment. The king is never around and Adrian acts as though there’s nothing wrong. He keeps telling me he’ll handle it, but his agenda seems more focused on getting in my pants than fixing the fact that his family hates me.
“Good morning,” Adrian says, his lips finding my neck and his hands sliding down my back, grabbing my ass.
We might be alone in the breakfast room right now, but his mom is somewhere nearby, so I circle out of his hold to find my seat. The one that faces the courtyard so at least I can admire the beautiful view during the awkward and forced conversation that’s bound to happen over breakfast.
He glances around and sits next to me, taking my hand. My gut twists because Adrian only seems to do that when he’s worried whatever he has to tell me will make me want to leave. “The announcement is being made in a few days about my parents’ divorce.”
I clench his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “They’re telling Rowan now, but I’m sure he’s not going to be surprised.”
Felicia walks in and takes her seat across from me, a server popping up out of no
where and pouring her a cup of coffee. “Rowan wants you two to take him to school instead of Mom.”
“Okay,” Adrian says.
I slide my hand from his with a frown then thank the server after he pours my coffee. Adrian huffs. He’s growing frustrated with me, but I’m not sure what he expects. Should I skip around the house and sing over the fact that his entire country and family seem to hate me?
Rowan comes in, his eyes full of sadness, his shoulders slumped.
“Stand up straight, Rowan,” Felicia says.
“Give him a break,” Adrian says.
“He has to learn sooner or later, and it seems like it’s going to have to be sooner.” She gives her brother a pointed glare.
“Piss off. Get off my damn back with that shit. He’s a kid, he can’t rule.” Adrian drops his napkin in his lap.
I focus on Rowan, who slides into his chair and neatly takes his napkin, unfolding it and placing it in his lap, replicating his older brother’s actions.
“Who shall rule then?” Felicia asks. “You won’t. I can’t. Dad will be dethroned after the announcement. We can’t all live in the delusional bubble you find yourself trapped in. There are issues to be dealt with.”
“I’ve never promised anything to this family. I’ve been clear for years that I don’t want to rule. I don’t want an arranged marriage. Now that I’ve met Sierra, I’m surer than I’ve ever been. She’s what I want, and if no one can accept that, then fuck them.”
I release a breath when Felicia’s narrowed eyes cut to me.
“Fuck them? You’ve known her for two months. That’s enough to throw away everything this family has built for centuries?”
“Easy for you to say. You have no pressure on your shoulders.”
Rowan sips his orange juice, but the fun-loving kid I’ve seen over the last few days has vanished.
“You think I wouldn’t rule if our country didn’t have ancient rules of succession? I’d do it and I’d be proud to serve my country, but my hands are tied.”
“That’s convenient. You can say whatever you want because it can’t happen anyway. You can’t speak on what you would or wouldn’t do if there’s absolutely no chance it could happen.”
Felicia grunts and her jaw clenches.
“Stop it, you two.” The queen enters the dining room, her eyes rimmed with pink. “I can hear you all the way to the foyer.”
“It’s his fault,” Felicia says. “The boy you let do whatever he wants thinks he can walk away from his responsibilities.”
“Your mother said to stop.” The King’s deep voice sounds before he strolls in and takes a seat at the head of the table. As he places his napkin in his lap, his gaze lands on Adrian. “Your brother has requested you take him to school.”
“I know.” Adrian buries his head in his plate.
“I suggest Sierra stays here.”
“Why?” Rowan whines. “I wanted to introduce her to my teacher.” His eyes cut to me, and I offer him a small smile.
“She’s coming.” Adrian’s tone makes it sound as if it’s final, but for once, I wish he’d listen to his dad.
“When the announcement is made, things are going to get more intense.”
Another boulder lands on top of the already existing boulder in my stomach.
More intense? How could things become worse?
“It’s fine. I’ll stay behind.” I nod and look at Rowan. “Next time.” I wink, and he smiles.
Adrian shakes his head. Then the usual silence that fills the Marx’s table commences as we all start our day.
After breakfast, I excuse myself to go to my room. Adrian quickly follows and stops me.
“This is never going to work if you cower to them,” he says.
This is the first time I’ve seen an ounce of concern on his face over what we’re facing.
“I’m not cowering. I’m just not feeling up to public scrutiny at the moment.”
He tilts his head.
“You live with blinders on,” I say. “Do you not read the headlines of the newspapers? Do you not see what they’re saying?”
He steps back, his fingers running through his hair. He has and thought maybe I didn’t, I’m guessing. So we’re going to live in denial? Or he’s going to hide things from me for this to work out?
“It’s only been three days. It’s not a Band-Aid we can just rip off.”
I walk down the hall, knowing his family is probably hoping this disagreement will turn into a fight and he’ll break things off with me. “Three days of me feeling pretty shitty about myself. They don’t want me here.”
He takes my hand and stops me in the hallway, positioning my back so it’s against the wall, where he cages me in. “I do.”
He’s so beautiful. So gorgeous. “I’m not sure I see where your optimism is coming from.”
“Trust me. That’s all I ask.”
I nod, and he smiles before dipping down and kissing me.
“I’m ready,” a small voice interrupts us.
I turn my face and wipe my mouth as Adrian laughs and faces his brother.
“Rowan, you’re like a skilled spy, you’re so quiet.” He kisses my cheek. “I’ll be back.”
I nod, and our hands slowly part.
“Promise me you’ll come next time,” Rowan says.
I fake a smile. “Definitely.”
He nods, and Adrian gives me that stomach-flipping wink of his before he talks to his brother about Fortnite while they walk down the hall.
As I watch them turn a corner, wishing I was going with them, the queen walks past the hallway and stops to look at me. Was she watching Adrian and me?
“Sierra, darling, the king and I would like to have a word with you.” She’s dressed in a suit, her hair styled to perfection and her makeup flawless. She doesn’t look like a woman who’s about to announce her divorce to an entire country.
“Okay,” I say and follow her.
She called me darling. The same term of endearment she uses with her children. Maybe Adrian’s right and it just took a few days for them to realize I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I do love this dress.” She examines me as our heels click on the marble hallway. “Did you buy it on the shopping trip in town the other day?”
“No, I had this already. I ended up not buying anything.”
She frowns. “Maybe next time.”
She knocks once on the study door and opens the door without being told it’s okay to do so.
“Please come in.” The king stands from his chair, waving us in. “Sorry about the fight with Felicia and Adrian. They’re so close in age and they just don’t see eye to eye. They shouldn’t behave like that in front of guests.” He gestures to another chair. “Coffee or tea?”
A servant comes in and places down a tray with three coffee mugs, milk, and sugar.
“No, thank you.”
The queen sits in the chair next to her husband so that they’re across from me. All that niceness I thought I felt from the queen disappears. They’ve ambushed me.
The king takes his time pouring tea for the queen and handing it to her before he pours himself a coffee. Every second that clicks by, my heartbeat speeds up.
He sips his coffee and puts the cup on the table between the two of them. “How do you think this turns out?”
I scrunch my forehead. “I’m sorry?”
“You and Adrian, how do you see this ending? The two of you marrying? He rules here if he’s allowed? You do understand that in that case, you can’t work. You’d have obligations and no time for silly bits about water irrigation system and the city pie-eating contest.”
My jaw tics. He’s watched my segments and feels as though I’m beneath him.
“From what I understand, Adrian doesn’t want to rule,” I say in an even voice.
“Yes, but he has no choice. Do you think he’s going to allow Rowan to rule at his age?”
The queen puts her hand on her husband’s arm and leans
forward. “As you must know, Adrian cares for Rowan a great deal. He’d jump in front of a bus for him. When the news about the divorce hits, if Adrian abdicates, Rowan will be named king.”
“But he wouldn’t be married.” I shift in my seat.
“No, he would have to wed at eighteen,” the king says.
“Adrian won’t let that happen.” The queen smirks. “So Adrian will rule, and if you two marry, you’ll be queen. If that can even happen. We’ll have to see how the public takes to you first. They generally wouldn’t like someone so…ordinary.”
Her words are like a flick of a sharp knife slicing through me without warning.
“If you think the past few days have been difficult, what do you think will happen when they hear you’re their next queen?”
I have no answer for the King.
“All we want is for you to think about this, Sierra,” the queen says. “Can the two of you have a future when you’ve only been in each other’s lives for such a short time? Should he really throw away his family and his obligation to a country that has honored him his entire life for a girl he met through a ‘Win a Date’ contest? The news about that is already hitting the newspapers, and everyone thinks this is all very convenient.”
I never thought about that. Of course his family believes I don’t truly care for their son.
“If you feel for him like you say, shouldn’t you do what’s right for him?” the king asks. “The two of you have had a whirlwind affair, but now it’s time to come down to Earth.”
Their words whirl in my head. I know they’re trying to manipulate me, trying to make me think there’s no hope that Adrian and I can make this relationship work. I know that, but some of what they say makes sense.
“I know you believe you might love him, but if you truly love him, you’ll do the right thing and step out of the way,” the king says.
The queen sips her tea, her eyes diverting away from me.
“You want me to just leave him?” I ask, forcing them to tell me point blank.
“We’re looking out for you too.” The queen pulls out a tablet and puts it on the table in front of us. My mom’s face on the screen has me picking it up and staring at it, slack-jawed. “The press can be so cruel.”