by Ella Brooke
“Yes,” Imelda said seriously.
A pair of servants entered the moment she rang a little bell. One of them poured tea for each of them, and the other servant placed a few pastries on their plates with silver tongs. Caitlyn stared at the food. She was incredibly hungry, but she looked to Imelda to lead. This was obviously part of the “training” she was expected to complete.
Imelda gave her an approving nod. The way Imelda held the cup, how she gave a delicate sip, how she took small bites and dabbed the corners of her mouth—each move was calculated. Caitlyn tried to mimic her, but her sips were too loud and her bites too large. She got sticky glaze on the corner of her mouth, and Imelda gestured empathically to her napkin.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just try again. You don’t have to be perfect, just not embarrassing.”
Was she embarrassing? It had never occurred to Caitlyn before that Emrys might have any opinion about the ways of moving and eating that came most natural to her. Was that one of the reasons he didn’t want her on set? Had she embarrassed him in France, here, and finally in Greece? She knew she had embarrassed him at the jazz club in New York…but it wasn’t as though Emrys was any authority on what was appropriate. Plus, he could be kind of a snob, when he was in a mood.
When she was finally allowed to go back to her rooms, Caitlyn was drooping a little. Though she was full. A benefit of lessons in decorum.
***
“Your mother is back early.”
Emrys smiled as he heard Caitlyn’s annoyed voice over the speakerphone. He sat very still in a chair while the studio’s hairdresser Jodie shaped up his long, curling locks. It had grown out over his vacation, but at least he’d kept off a beard, unlike some of his disheveled costars.
“When did she get in?” he asked.
“Yesterday. She and Imelda are on a mission to teach me how to be a lady and stuff me with teacakes.”
‘Well, good on that account. I’ve thought you looked a bit skinny since we started up again.”
“I try very hard to keep my figure!” Caitlyn snapped.
Emrys held back a laugh. No point in irritating her when she was already suffering through his family. “I’m kidding, Cait. You look fabulous. Enough so that the tabloids thought you were some kind of girl on the side. Just humor Mum and Imelda. As long as they feel like you’re making progress, they’ll leave you alone.”
“It would be easier if Adora were here. She’s gone back to school, and who knows where Elsa is.”
“Off making her own headlines,” Emrys joked. “Are you feeling any better? Tell them to lay off, if your stomach is still bothering you. Did you see the palace doctor?”
“Oh, no. Um, I started feeling better when I got here.”
“It may have just been travelling. Mother gets that sometimes.” Emrys narrowed his eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror. “Don’t go too short on the sides. They have me wearing-black rimmed glasses in a few scenes. I want to look lady-killer, but not like a lesbian.”
Jodie chuckled.
“What?” Caitlyn said incredulously.
“I’m teasing my hairdresser.”
“That’s probably not a good idea. I’m sorry for his behavior!” Caitlyn called out.
“But I’m not sorry at all,” Emrys said.
“Is this the girl from the paper?” Jodie said quietly. “Or your fiancée? I won’t tell, but—“
“They’re the same person. My fiancée is the girl from the paper.”
“Oh, wow. Nice. You know, they’re always predicting someone is cheating or dying. They had an article out about your costar saying she’d gained 163 pounds and was at death’s door.”
Emrys almost looked back at her to see if she was joking. “See, Caitlyn, everyone deals with this tabloid garbage.”
“I guess so. I’m starting to see the humor in being the other woman to myself,” Caitlyn said.
“I’ll call Heloise and have her schedule you a massage. Relieve some of that stress,” Emrys said.
“I don’t know—“
“It’s done.”
“O-Okay, I guess.”
Emrys spoke to her for a few more minutes until he had to go, then he got off the phone, thanked Jodie for her work and her patience, and headed over to Wardrobe. While he would have liked to talk to Caitlyn more, he didn’t know the people working in Wardrobe, whereas he’d been on set with Jodie many of times. He trusted that while she listened to gossip, she didn’t share anything that wasn’t already in print.
After a quick run-in with the tape measure, Emrys waited for the head of Costuming to bring over his notes. He took a seat and started to skim over his script.
“Fancy seeing you here.” Nina approached him, walking slowly. She took a seat next to him and sipped an iced latte with the word ‘coconut’ scribbled on it.
“Given I’m the main love interest, not that surprising, I’d hope. How could I have gotten myself fired before we even do our first table reads?” Emrys said. “What are you doing here?”
“Improving the next six to eight weeks of your life.” Nina smirked and tossed back her thick black hair, which now had streaks of red and blond spiraling through it. “Your love interest has been recast.”
She pointed to herself with both hands and smiled smugly.
“Really? Did they say why?”
Nina shrugged. “Remember Jennifer was filming that comedy with her friend Daphne? She gained two dress sizes for the role and was probably counting John to keep lagging on his script revisions so she could get it all off before we had to show up on set. This is indie, but not that far indie.”
“I guess tabloids can occasionally get something almost right. Though I hope she’s not dying.”
Nina clicked her tongue. “She’s not dying. Her butt’s just the size of a boat.”
“To be honest, I never thought that Jennifer and I had much chemistry, but she was cast first.”
“At least they should know that we have it.” Nina winked. “We could give ’em a bit of a PR-mance.”
“I trust that PR can do their jobs without us having to pretend to go out or causing any more undue stress to my poor fiancée.”
“Yeah, where did she even come from? The last time I saw you, you were Mr. Flying Solo at that New York screening party. Now you’re engaged?”
Emrys pocketed his phone and stood. “What can I say? I’m in love.”
“Happens to the best of us, unfortunately.” Nina folded her hands together under her mouth. “Will we see her?”
“Maybe later. She’s not been feeling well since Greece, and Mum demanded that I let her train Cait up for the court.”
Nina laughed. “Poor fiancée!”
“I know, but better now than later. She may not know that I’m responsible, but she’ll be grateful once my father finally gives us permission to get married.”
“I honestly don’t understand how your country works.”
“I’ll invite you to the wedding, and you can see for yourself. Or ask my sister. She’s the one who does it, mostly.”
“And yet, Daddy Dearest is the one who gets to be all up in your love life?” Nina grimaced. “Weird.”
“If he couldn’t control the minute details of our lives, the world might just spin right off its axis,” Emrys said dryly.
The man from costuming who had taken Emrys’s measurements came for Nina. She stood, her tight mini-dress riding up so high that Emrys could have read the print off her panties, straightened her dress, and then walked away, swinging her hips. Wardrobe was going to have their work cut out for them getting Nina into clothing that went past the knee.
***
Emrys had only been on set for a week when Caitlyn saw that some idiot gossip blogger online had her on “Baby Bump Watch.” It was small consolation that he had: a) actually gotten her name right as well as the fact that she was supposedly Emrys’s fiancée and b) was using a picture from before she’d even reconnec
ted with him. It was just that she was leaning over, and the loose fabric of her blouse very vaguely resembled a curve.
But the ball had started the gossip rolling. Now pictures of the front of her shirts were fair game, and as she had found out from Melinda, easily available in the checkout aisle. Melinda had snapped a few pictures of one magazine that had finally managed to dig up information about her, with the headline: “The Programming Princess: Pregnant?”
Caitlyn was torn between amusement and anxiety. In a way, she hoped that Emrys would read the stories and realize what was happening before she could tell him. During their phone calls, though, he didn’t seem to be thinking about it at all. He spent hours relating what was going on at the set, and Caitlyn listened, occasionally complaining about her princess lessons. And when she suggested that she was feeling well enough to come visit him on the set, he encouraged her to stay at the palace, just for a little longer.
There were moments when she convinced herself that the test had been a fluke. A false positive, coincidental symptoms, and an overreaction on her part. Until she tried to slip into a pair of jeans and felt the noticeable bump below her navel. She wasn’t nearly as round as the gossip rags made her out to be, but this was harder to ignore. Not impossible, though. She ditched the jeans and returned to her long dresses and empire waists. They still hid it completely, at least from Emrys’s mother and sister. But she could feel her body changing.
One morning, though, when Heloise brought her breakfast, Caitlyn noticed the maid looking at her curiously. Caitlyn realized that the T-shirt she’d been sleeping in had been hiked up and quickly tugged it back down.
“Heloise, please—”
“Your and Prince Emrys’s secrets are your own, ma’am,” she’d said firmly.
Caitlyn burned with guilt and uncertainty. She needed to see Emrys, or at least she needed to have a real conversation with him before it was so obvious that even his fickle attention couldn’t fail to miss it.
Chapter Eleven
“Your character isn’t you, though. If anything, I’m the man in the relationship,” Nina said in a tone that implied she thought she was being helpful.
“My character is still a man, even if he’s a sensitive one.”
“You have to do more than brood, Your Highness. You have to give the audience layers. This movie is pretty sparse on plot. They need to feel the heat between our characters, but that can’t happen if you think this guy you’re playing is all flash and fire but no depth. We’re not ‘Roughhousing’ anymore.”
Emrys felt his face burning in anger. “Are you saying you don’t believe my performance?”
“I’m saying you’ve gotten too comfortable. Recognize that your character is at the mercy of mine but is far too proud to admit it, and you’ll have what you need.” Nina stretched her arms over her head, catching the attention of several patrons of this common Portland coffeehouse. Nina was a fabulous actor, but she seemed to repel clothing. Even in jeans and a V-neck T-shirt, she seemed like she might at any moment be naked and on top of you, doing a little dance.
Having experienced that made Emrys a bit immune to the natural charm that oozed out of her, but it was good to remember what reactions he should have, given his character would be obsessed with hers during the last days of their lives. The film was good—dark, but good. Emrys appreciated the opportunity and thought that his and Nina’s names would help push the film farther than it might have gone otherwise.
What he didn’t appreciate as much were the acting lessons that Nina wanted to force on him.
“You might be confusing me with my character, but I’m not,” Emrys objected. He lifted a large mug of coffee with both hands and sipped.
“Hm.” Nina stood and leaned over.
Emrys looked up at her dubiously.
“Show me how your character reacts to this.” She moved her arms closer together and flashed him a smile. The movement lifted her breasts into full, glorious view.
Emrys raised a brow.
“Yeah, see, that’s way too cool for your dork of a character. He needs to be more flustered. He needs to be at a loss for words, a loss for breath, even. So when that scene in the diner happens, and she’s above him and leaning in like this—” Nina touched her fingertips along his jaw and came in close. “He doesn’t know what to do with himself. She has the control. He wants it but can’t get it. He wants control in general—over his life, over his failing heart, but he can’t have that, either. But if he plays his cards right…”
Nina leaned in to whisper in Emrys’s ear. “He could have what she’ll give him.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Emrys complained. He gave her a shove and laughed. “But you are entertaining,” he admitted. “I’m really glad Jennifer porked up.”
Emrys smiled and checked his phone. Messages from Caitlyn. She’d been trying to get in contact with him this week, but the filming schedule had been grueling. They didn’t have a lot of time here, if they wanted to keep the film under budget, and that meant that he and Nina needed to be on their game at every moment. It also meant that he was sometimes too wiped out. Between his schedule, Caitlyn’s training, and the time difference, they’d fallen asleep on one another in the middle of a call twice now.
He trusted that his mother and sisters would keep Caitlyn occupied until he could get back, but it was vital to keep connected. This wouldn’t be the only time he was on location filming. Maybe he could convince his mother to release Caitlyn from manners school early, since he’d willingly given Caitlyn over to her. Caitlyn liked visiting new places so much that she would probably forgive his poor attentions over the last few weeks just for the chance to hit another place on her bucket list.
“Hello, darling,” Emrys greeted her. “Are you feeling well enough to come up to see the set?”
***
When caught between the prospect of fessing up to Emrys and spending another day in “Sébire Finishing School,” Caitlyn decided the former was marginally preferable.
The flight was incredibly long, but the private bedroom in the jet was comfortable. The jet took off midday so that Caitlyn could sleep through the tail end of the trip and arrive refreshed. From the jet, a private car took her to the hotel room where Emrys was staying, and all the way her heart thudded in her ears as she tried to think of what to tell him.
When she arrived at the hotel, however, the concierge informed her that Emrys had already gone to the set and left word that Caitlyn was welcome to join him. Although the driver would have taken her, she didn’t want to have this conversation with his coworkers watching. So instead, she settled her things into the room and decided that she could kill some time around the city. She’d never been to Seattle before.
After slipping on a pair of checkered leggings and a loose scarlet and violet striped sweater, Caitlyn returned to the car and had the driver take her downtown. There she got a large cup of tea and walked the streets for a while, taking in the ambiance of the city. Despite the cold, she liked the energy of the people bustling and biking by. She bought a bag of strawberry-glazed sweet rolls and munched on them as she wandered through a park and people watched.
It wasn’t a bad way to pass the morning, but eventually it began to drizzle. Caitlyn ducked into a shop for an umbrella. She pushed her damp hair out of her eyes as she looked. It was late enough now that she might be able to get Emrys to come out with her for lunch off-set, if they were on schedule. She shot off a quick text and then spotted the umbrellas. Unsurprisingly, the store stocked quite a lot of them, and the other customers who had walked in slightly wet seemed used to the rain. It was coming down harder now, and Caitlyn was glad she hadn’t tried to push through it. She could have her driver come pick her up, if the weather got too bad.
When she stepped into the line, she alternated between looking at the candy—tempting, if she hadn’t just eaten three strawberry rolls—and her phone. There were two people in front of her when her eyes lit on the magazines above the gum.
Blazoned across the cover was Emrys and a gorgeous woman with curly black hair and plump, pouty lips, which were nearly touching his as she leaned over him. “Things Heat Up for the Playboy Prince!” the headline declared.
Caitlyn covered her mouth, feeling as though she might throw up strawberry pastries all over the floor. Had she seen this woman before? She looked familiar, but Caitlyn wasn’t sure. She moved through the line mutely, picking up the magazine to buy with her umbrella. Once outside, she unfolded the umbrella and tucked the offending publication into her bag before storming down the sidewalk.
Not knowing the area, navigating in the rain with tears clouding her vision, Caitlyn was soon lost. She stopped at a proper café to get a cup of coffee and order some lunch. She had to think about this. The papers exaggerated, sure, and they got details wrong. But there was usually something connecting them to reality. Something there to spin. And that picture…it showed Emrys about to kiss that woman. And he was looking at her like she was a prime steak.
On her phone, Caitlyn searched the woman’s name—Nina Jones—only to find that the tabloids had caught them together once before. Having sex in the alley behind a popular European club. That was where she’d seen Nina’s picture before. She’d been mentioned in one of the articles a month ago that had rehashed Emrys’s “misspent youth.” And she was only more beautiful now.
Appetite lost, Caitlyn pushed her chicken Caesar salad aside. It was one thing to be caught by the tabloids in a compromising position. He might have been about to kiss her. He might not. But how could he go into this movie, knowing for months that he would be acting opposite his ex, and not warn Caitlyn about it? Deliberately not telling her that he planned to be in close quarters with this woman suggested that Emrys had thought something might happen between them, or that he had something to feel guilty about. If he were lying to her about this, he could be lying about other things. And she would fall for it, always. Every lie, every explanation or excuse, she would fall, because she had fallen for him so hard and never loved another man the way she had loved him.