by Eden Finley
All I got in return was a slight shake of his head.
“Fired?” I whispered.
The guy nodded.
Roman crawled his way over to me and held onto my leg.
“Umm. Good luck with that,” his friend said and pointed to a very drunk Roman.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He turned to leave but hesitated. “Don’t …umm … Try not to give him any more bad news tonight.”
Roman scoffed and murmured, “She’s going to break my heart.”
“Not if I can help it,” I said.
“Xander broke up with us.”
“Yeah … he’s been saying that. A lot.” His friend bowed. “Forgive me, Lady Hillington. I’m Brad.”
“No need to bow now,” I said.
“Ah.” Realisation crossed Brad’s face. “I’ve been telling him not to jump to conclusions, but I’m guessing that means he’s right?”
Roman’s head lifted from my leg. I ran my hand through his hair and nodded, unable to find the right words that would break his heart.
“What are the odds of being charged with treason if I punch out my future king?” Brad asked.
Roman laughed and staggered to his feet. I wrapped my arms around his waist to try to help him stay upright, but Roman was about twice the width of Xander and was a sturdy fucker.
“You’re a good friend, Brad, but don’t go to prison for us,” Roman slurred.
“Brad, could you maybe help?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Sure thing.”
We managed to get Roman to my bedroom, but he was too heavy to put to bed properly. One leg ended up hanging off the side, but he was out like a light already.
On the way back to the front door, Brad spun on his heel to face me. “Are you going to break his heart? I don’t really know how being in a relationship with three people works. If one bows out, do all three of you break up, or—”
“I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know either.”
“Just … don’t do it tonight. He lost his job and Xander in the same night.”
I forced a smile. “I won’t.”
Exhaustion hit between saying goodbye to Brad at the door and reaching my bedroom. Almost becoming royalty and being broken up with in one day was taxing.
As soon as I climbed into bed, Roman stirred and rolled over to face me. A large arm came over me, and then his leg, and I couldn’t help chuckling.
He, however, let out a loud sigh. “What do we do now?” he whispered.
“Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“I can’t lose you too.”
“You won’t.” The promise slid off my tongue easily. I just wished I knew if I was telling the truth or not.
I woke to the sound of my coffee machine whirring in the kitchen and the sweet scent of heaven in a cup wafting to my nose.
Dragging myself out of the empty bed, I caught a glimpse of my birds’ nest of blonde hair as I passed the dresser on the way to the magic elixir called caffeine.
Melodramatic maybe, but after yesterday, I was a fucking zombie.
Roman, on the other hand, didn’t have my issues. Shirtless and only wearing his suit pants, he made me forget all about the coffee.
“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who don’t get hangovers,” I said.
He turned and leaned against the bench with a forced smile. “Guilty. My metabolism burns everything fast.”
“I hate you,” I murmured.
“But I’m cute, right?”
Our whole conversation was stiff, and we both knew it. Without waiting for my answer, he slid a mug over to me and sipped from his own.
As I stared at him over the rim of my cup, I couldn’t help softening at the vulnerability in his downcast eyes. Roman expressed everything through those brown orbs. All the heartache of the previous day, the loss of Xander and his job, and they had questions in them too.
We’d known each other a total of a few weeks, but I was certain Roman belonged in my life. In what capacity, I wasn’t entirely sure, but there was no way I was going to abandon him.
I placed my coffee on the bench and approached him. My arms were tentative as they snaked around his back, and he hesitated for a second before returning the hug. I buried my head in his chest, and he kissed the top of my hair.
“What do we do?” he asked, just like he had last night. “Do we try to make it work just you and me? Do we try to find a third? I don’t know how these things usually go, but I got used to the idea of being with both of you. It might not be conventional, but it made sense to me. But then the thought of trying to replace him …” He shook his head.
I sighed. “I guess we should see what it’s like to be a couple. We owe it to Xander to try. The reason he let us go was because he wants us to have a normal life, so we should give him that, at least.”
“He wants us to be with other people,” Roman muttered. “I think that hurts worse than breaking up with us.”
“If you want out, just say it, Roman. We’re still building our own rules here.”
“I don’t know what I want, but I meant it when I said last night I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t.”
His lips landed on my forehead and then my cheek. When our mouths met, my nipples tightened and my body responded accordingly. His moan caused tingles of arousal below my waist and had me pulling Roman’s hips closer so I could grind against the hardening length in his pants. But no matter how turned on we both were, it was obvious we both felt something missing.
Xander
A FEW MONTHS LATER
“I really don’t care, Grandmother. You pick one.”
“You speak as if I’m picking out china patterns.”
We were going around in circles, and I had a headache. I stared out of the royal offices into the courtyard where one of the maid’s kids hopped about from one stone bench to the other.
I envied that kid. Even if he fell and broke his neck right now, he’d be in a better position than me.
Aww, poor little prince.
Gah. Even my conscience thought I was a spoiled brat.
“I care about this about the same amount as china patterns,” I said.
“One of these women is going to be your wife. You should get a say in who you share a bed with.”
I snorted. “You’re right. I should.” But that wasn’t an option.
“Why are you being such a stubborn mule about this? Ever since you broke off your two-second engagement to Lady Hillington, you’ve been a bigger grump than usual.”
Gee, can’t think of why, Grandmother. “Why are you complaining? I broke up with Delia to take my rightful place as king. I’ve been doing my duties, learning how to be the best leader I can be. I’ve had my head down and done nothing but work—which is what Grandfather wanted of me. Yet, you people still complain.”
“This is about Lady Hillington and your bodyguard.”
“Of course, it is.” Only, not for the reasons she was thinking. She was under the impression my heartache was caused by Delia’s betrayal of being caught with Roman.
“Well, if I had bodyguards who looked like him, I suppose I would’ve had more affairs.”
“Nanna!”
She shrugged. “That man is fine. As I’m sure you’re aware considering your torrid relationship with both of them.”
The blood drained from my face. “You … you know.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday.” She stood from her desk and made her way over to me.
I turned back to the window again, awaiting the lecture I knew was coming. Trying to remain stoic, however, proved more difficult. Even though it was spur of the moment to cut both Roman and Delia loose, it killed me to do it. They were everything I ever wanted, but I couldn’t have them. Not if I were to take the crown.
“Why did you end it with them?” Nanna asked.
I stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. “That’s what you ask?”
“Alexa
nder, we may be royal, but we’re still human. I accepted a long time ago that you were different.”
I went to open my mouth to protest, but she cut me off.
“I do not mean that in a condescending way. Different isn’t any worse or better. It’s just … different. The majority of people only find love with one person. You found it with two.”
“Exactly. The majority of my constituents will see their king as some deviant if word got out because what we have is different to what they’re used to.”
“So, don’t let word get out. You really think this palace has been scandal free over the years? Do you know your uncle is a crossdresser?”
My eyes widened. “Which uncle?”
She leaned in and whispered, “I’ll never tell.”
I bet it was Quin and Henrietta’s dad. He had killer legs and said he shaved them when he was a swimmer, but even after he stopped competitive swimming, he never stopped shaving. I could totally see him in a dress. But it didn’t matter what he did in his spare time, because he would never be king. He was a divorcee which meant he was immediately ineligible by our laws.
“Us royals know how to keep things under wraps,” Nanna said. “And when anything makes it to the news, it’s easy to squash. Unless there’s photographic evidence, but even then, our people find a way to put a spin on it.”
“I don’t want to put a spin on us. And I won’t have them living a lie for me. Being in the closet is hard enough. I’m not going to drag two people I care about in there with me. They deserve better.”
Nanna pursed her lips. “They deserve better than the man they love abandoning them because of his obligation is to his country, when there are ways he could have both.”
“I don’t want both,” I muttered.
“Then you made the wrong choice when you pledged your allegiance to your crown instead of your heart.”
My head pounded. “I chose the right thing—the noble and honourable thing. It’s what Mum and Dad would’ve wanted.”
She shook her head. “It’s what you think your Mum and Dad would’ve wanted, when all they really wanted was for their kids to be happy. Especially you.” Nanna blinked away what looked to be a tear, but I had to be wrong. Queens didn’t cry. “Your sister was born for this life. She loved it. You … I’m afraid you might’ve inherited my family’s hesitance when it came to politics.”
My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Come sit. We’ll have some tea.” She gestured to her informal sitting area in the corner of her office. Informal wasn’t exactly the way I would describe it when the settees cost more than the average house in Ashwick.
They were also as uncomfortable as fuck, but I wasn’t going to complain. I’d never heard Nanna talk so candidly before. I always admired her, and if she was telling me I made a mistake, I had to listen.
“Things were done a lot differently back when your grandfather and I were courting, and most families would have jumped at the chance to have their daughter married off to a future king. My mother and father were honoured, as they should have been, and they were of royal descent themselves. Long distant relatives of the Denmark royals. They knew our match up was probably inevitable, but they weren’t the type of parents to force anything on their children. They wanted us to make our own life choices.”
“Really?” I smiled. I figured she didn’t have a choice in marrying Grandfather—that it was arranged.
“The only time I ever saw them disappointed in me was the day I told them I was going to accept your grandfather’s proposal.”
“Why did they hate Grandfather so much?”
Nanna merely stared at me with this derisive look on her face. Right. Grandfather was an asshole. How could I forget.
“He always treated me with kindness and respect, and I know it’s hard to believe, but I really do love that man, and he has always loved me. Doesn’t mean there haven’t been hard times. There were affairs—”
I screwed up my face. “Don’t need to know that, Nanna.”
“My parents tried to save me from the heartache of being a royal where this kind of thing was common. I have no doubt that when you become king, you will be tempted by those around you, and whoever you choose as your wife will have to be okay with that.”
“With Delia and Roman, there would be no temptation. They’re everything I want.”
“Then, my boy, you have another decision to make. Seeing as you refuse to let them love you as a king, you have to decide whether or not your crown is worth losing them.”
It wasn’t. I already knew that, but I couldn’t abdicate. I realised that while giving my speech at my parents’ memorial service. Mum and Dad were willing to sacrifice their lives to rule, and now it was my responsibility.
“I can’t let my parents or my country down.”
That look? The one Nanna said her own parents gave her when she chose the crown? I imagined it was eerily similar to the look she gave me.
“Guess we need to find you a wife then.”
“Oh my God, I feel like I’m at a meat market,” I mumbled.
“And you’re the prime rib?” Bryant asked from beside me.
Yet another ball. Yet another extravagant affair for me to parade my eligible ass around.
“They all have crowns in their eyes.”
“I believe that’s the reflection of the twinkly lights, sir.”
I burst into laughter. One thing about breaking up with Delia and Roman, Bryant the Tyrant had actually become bearable. Nice even. I didn’t know if he took a page out of Roman’s book and decided to treat me as an equal instead an object he was to protect or maybe he just felt so incredibly sorry for me because my girlfriend left me for “the help,” but I was thankful for the change in behaviour.
Christmas at the palace always looked like fairy lights had made babies and then exploded everywhere, but it was even worse this year. I was to announce my engagement to one of these vultures on New Year’s, which meant I had a mere few weeks to find someone I could tolerate for the rest of my life.
No pressure.
“Incoming,” Bryant whispered.
I tried to keep my face passive as Beatrice McIntyre approached. As a potential wife, she would’ve been perfect, but it was no secret around the palace that she had been the anonymous source in outing Roman and Delia.
“How much trouble will I be in if I order your guys to escort her off the premises?” I asked out the side of my mouth.
“Not wise,” Bryant said. “Her family is one of the most prominent in the country.”
“I know, I know.”
She was upon us, and I plastered on a fake smile as she took my hand and curtseyed.
“Lady McIntyre, you look positively bitchy tonight.” Both our eyes widened at my slip. Bryant made a choking sound.
“W-what?” she asked with an embarrassed giggle.
“I said you look beautiful tonight.” Well, that was what I was trying to say, anyway.
“Oh.” She blushed, but I didn’t know if it was from the compliment or seeing through my bullshit. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
I wasn’t convinced she didn’t hear me the first time, and Bryant gave me a look that said damage control was needed.
“Care to dance, Beatrice?”
Her eyes lit up at the use of her informal name. “Of course, Your—”
“Call me Xander.” I forced another smile and turned to Bryant who gave me a nod of approval.
But as we reached the dance floor, the most beautiful woman in the most beautiful dress sauntered into the ballroom.
Her blonde hair was in a tight bun, and her blue eyes shone even across the room. Without being able to resist, I glanced at the man on her arm, but my face fell when I realised it wasn’t Roman. It was some lord or duke, or I don’t know. I forgot the man’s name.
“Xander?” Beatrice asked. I’d stopped midway to the dance floor. I stared down at her and then back at Delia.
Delia�
�s eyes locked on mine, and her smile which lit up the damn room when she entered had been replaced by a scowl. Her gaze travelled down my arm which was linked with Beatrice’s.
“Sorry, Lady McIntyre, I have to talk with someone.”
“She’ll only cheat on you again, Xander.”
I gritted my teeth. I’d never hated the name Xander more in my life. I hated it coming from this woman’s mouth. She was more noble than either Delia or Roman, but all I saw was trash. I turned to her. “But according to the tabloids, you were the one who told them I was gay and she was my beard, so I’m failing to see why her cheating on me should be an issue. Excuse me.”
I didn’t give her a chance to respond before I turned my back and approached Delia and her date.
“Your Highness,” she said in a smug voice. She curtseyed, but halfway through, I grabbed her hand and dragged her away. I muttered a brief “Excuse us” to her date and left the ballroom, taking her up to my quarters with Bryant hot on our heels.
Only when we were behind closed doors did I let her go. “Care to explain why you’re here without Roman?”
“Care to explain why you’re being a royal dick?” Delia rubbed her wrist where I gripped her, and my anger dissipated. My cock also hardened, because stupid me had always loved how she didn’t treat me like royalty and told me how she really felt. Even if it was calling me a dick.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked softly and stepped forward.
“No. But you’re still a dick.”
“I’m still your crown prince.” I tried to scowl, but I knew I didn’t pull it off when Delia smiled.
“You love it when I call you names.”
“I do,” I whispered. “Where’s Roman?”
She shrugged. “On a date too.”
I stumbled back. “You … you’re not together?”
“No, we are. We, umm, we’re actually living together. His lease was up, so he moved into my second bedroom.”
My brow scrunched in confusion. “Second bedroom?”
Delia dragged me over to the sitting area of my suite and sat me down on the love seat. When she grabbed my hands and held them softly, I knew she wasn’t going to tell me anything good.