Ah. There it is. I guess I’ll have to explain this eventually. And if I have to explain it to anyone, Madison is the best choice. If I tell her, she’ll relay it to everyone. There’ll be no long awkward talks with the guys, no probing questions. “Because I’m not a prince, not really. I’m the kid who attended a super fancy boarding school every summer, except instead of getting to play sports or join clubs, everyone just glared at me.”
“I can hardly imagine anyone glaring at you.” She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing her pale neck.
I stare at that neck, the curve of her shoulder, the dip of her collarbone, visible in the loose shirt she’s wearing. I don’t want to talk about Eldonia anymore. I want to grab her close and put my mouth right on the beautiful curve of her neck and see if she smells like that fancy perfume she usually wears—
“Daniel?” She tilts her head.
I move past the crowd to the edge of the pier, allowing my toes to poke over the edge. The dark water stares back at me. It almost seems inviting. I feel Madison’s presence behind me. “I didn’t tell anyone I’m a prince, because that’s not who I am. Seventeen years ago, my father, the King, visited New York on an American tour and met my mother. By the time she found out she was pregnant with me, he was already back in his castle. And it wasn’t some love story, where he came back for us, brought her to his palace, and made her his princess. I’m pretty sure there would have been an uprising if he’d made a commoner his wife. So, a year later, he married some posh duchess and my sister, Evangeline, was born.”
I look back to see if Madison is even listening. She is. Our eyes meet and she steps forward, not touching me, but close enough that I can feel the electricity jump between us, and can see the rise and fall of her chest.
I run a hand through my hair and continue. “It’s not like he truly abandoned us, I guess. He always made sure Ma had enough to get by, and paid for everything I needed at school, and all of my hockey camps. He’d call on holidays, and always sent me a really awesome birthday present. But I barely knew him.” I try to picture my father in anything other than an official royal uniform, but my mind comes up blank. “I knew he was a king, but I didn’t know his favorite food. What kind of music he liked. If he ever thought of my mother.”
“Daniel,” Madison breathes, and touches my arm. Something about the way she says my name always makes my heart hitch.
“I spent most of my summers in Eldonia. At first, I just thought the people there were cold, but as I got older, I realized they were just cold to me—the bastard prince from America.”
Madison takes my hand. It’s comforting, a gesture I imagine a girlfriend might make. Not that I even know what that’s like.
“But you keep going back to Eldonia every summer, right?” Madison says. “You must like something about it.”
“Well, it is beautiful,” I say, picturing the rustic town that surrounds Harwell Castle, the farms, the sprawling meadows. “But I go back for Eva.”
“Your sister.”
“Eva and I used to get into so much trouble, exploring corridors we weren’t allowed in, running around the tomato fields, pulling pranks on our butler Eldredge, ruining the expensive clothes the Queen made us wear. We’d spend our days exploring the grounds. We even found an area near the back that everyone else seemed to have forgotten about. We called it our Magic Garden.”
“Eva sounds…” Madison pauses, and I can tell she’s trying to select her words carefully. “…fun?”
I give a dry laugh and picture the stoic princess Madison witnessed at Ms. Sue’s. “Eva’s hard to get to know. She puts on a mask to protect herself. The people in the court will eat you alive if you don’t shield yourself.”
“A stone-cold princess with a heart of gold?” Madison gives a wry smile. “Sounds like a movie plot.”
“Everything’s a movie to you,” I say with a laugh. But when I picture my sister, I see a movie too. It’s not a static image like the one I have of my dad, but a million memories playing out before me. “Eva never looked down on me the way the rest of them did, and she never treated me like I was less than her. In fact, I think she might have even looked up to me a little.”
“Of course, she did,” Madison says. “You’re her big brother.”
The air seems to push down on me, and I sink to the ground, allowing my legs to dangle off the pier. Madison sits beside me. “How can I let her marry Lyle?”
“Is he really that bad?” Madison asks. “I mean, that is if you can get past the whole arranged marriage thing.”
“In a word, yeah. He’s just got this slimy feeling about him, going around with his nose in the air, always followed by his posse. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t like to walk anywhere because he doesn’t want ‘peasant dust’ on his shoes. I can’t imagine what he’d do to Eldonia.”
“From what your sister was saying, it won’t be good.”
I stare down at the swirling water, the black waves breaking on the stone pier. “But even if I wanted to be king—even if it’s my legal right or whatever—I meant what I said to Eva. No one wants me there. No one trusts me. I’m just a bastard to them. A bastard who drinks too much, parties too much, hooks up with too many of the castle staff, and may have broken one too many priceless royal artifacts.” I take in Madison’s wide eyes. “Do I need to go on?”
“Hmm.” Madison’s eyes trace a line up and down my body. “You could make them want you. Go to Eldonia and make them see you’ve changed, that the guy they remember is not who you really are.”
“But that is who I really am.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” She smiles. “I…I could help you. Help you become the king the people of Eldonia need.” Her voice shakes. “If that’s what you want…to be the king.”
I scrub my face with my hands. “I don’t want to be a king. I don’t want to live in Eldonia. What could you even do with…this?” I motion to all of me.
Her body seems to catch fire. Uh-oh. I’ve given her a mission. “I’ll help you make over your image. We’ll get rid of that bad boy persona and turn you into Mr. Nice Guy.” She stares out to sea, her eyes wide, smile bright, as if the plan is coming to life before her. “I-I could even go with you, if you want. To Eldonia. I could pretend to be your long-term girlfriend. No more partying for this prince.”
Madison Myong has just said two words I never thought I’d ever hear her say. Your. Girlfriend. Of course, there’s another word in there as well—pretend. It feels like I’ve been struck by lightning and all my nerves are on fire. I leap up. I can barely breathe. Eva’s face flashes in my brain, then Lyle’s, then my father’s. And then I stare down at Madison, who is looking up at me so expectantly.
This morning, I was just Daniel Sacachelli, secret bastard. Now, I’m heir to a throne I don’t want or deserve.
My blood feels hot and I can’t take having Madison’s gaze on me anymore. A million emotions compete for room in my brain—fear, sadness, hurt. Anger.
I focus on the only one I know how to process.
“That is just what you’d say,” I snap to Madison, my words bitter and clipped.
Of course, Madison would think of a plan like this. A plan to turn me into something I’m not, to strip away everything that makes her ashamed of me. But once Daniel is gone, once I’m the King of Eldonia, will I be good enough for her?
Except I know I won’t. Because it would always just be pretend.
“What?” Madison says, standing. “You asked me for ideas.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, well, I changed my mind. See you later, Madison.”
I turn away and walk into the crowd. Maybe it’s my own fault for never telling Madison how I feel about her. How could she know that the idea of pretending to be her perfect man is like a slap in the face?
The same day she finds out I’m a prince, that’s the day she wants to be my girlfriend. My fake girlfriend, but still. This is why I’ve never told anyone about this sid
e of myself. The title takes over, and strips away everything else. There’s no Daniel anymore…just the Prince of Eldonia.
Which, I guess, is the only version of me Madison’s interested in.
I stop, a wave of guilt tearing through me. I was her ride here. Quickly, I fight my way back through the crowd, and I spot her. Her cheeks are red and her hair is blowing behind her.
“Madison.”
She turns to me, a furious glare on her face.
“Do…do you need a ride home?”
“I’ve already called an Uber,” she says, and storms past me. But then she turns back, and snarls, “I guess being the Falcons’ bad boy is all you’re good for.”
Chapter Five
Daniel
The blare of the music and press of bodies is almost enough to drown out everything I’d gone through earlier today. Almost. I take another swig of my beer to try and block out the rest of the thoughts in my head.
The girl I’m dancing with links her hands around my neck and places her lips on the corner of my mouth. I close my eyes, losing myself in the feeling.
I know I said I wouldn’t go to Gerver’s party tonight, but I wasn’t going to sit at home and wallow in my own thoughts. I figured it was better to come here and get wasted so I couldn’t think at all.
When I open my eyes, my whole body stiffens as I see a flash of silky black hair across the room. The girl in front of me places a hand on her hip and looks up, surveying my stiff appearance. “Uh, is there a problem?”
The girl with the black hair turns around. It’s not Madison. “I…uh…” I look down at the girl I’m dancing with. She has fiery red hair, and her cheeks are turning the same color as she glares up at me.
“Ugh, whatever.” She turns and walks back through the crowd. Between the Chicago Falcons and Gerver’s brother’s college friends, the apartment is packed full. I squeeze my way off the dance floor and go to grab another drink.
Gerver slings an arm around my shoulder. “Killin’ it with the ladies as usual, Sacs.”
“Hey, the night is still young.” I laugh. Listening to music so loud it’ll probably cause permanent damage, dancing with girls, playing beer-pong, making raunchy jokes with my teammates…I know my role here. I know the part I have to play.
So what if that person’s not good enough for Eldonia? Or Madison?
“Hey,” Gerver says, “have you heard from Tremblay?”
“He’s hanging with Al,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. After the hundred texts from Captain Tremblay about the whole prince thing, he’d told me to come over to chill. But I’m not fooled. Hayden Tremblay may act like a tough guy, but inside he’s a total softie. I know he wants to chat about what happened today, to make sure I’m okay.
But after my ‘chat’ with Madison, talking is the last thing I want to do.
I guess the only thing I’m grateful for tonight is the fact that Madison and Tremblay (and Bell too, I guess) have managed to keep my secret to themselves. So at least for tonight, I can still be just number 77.
“Yeah, he’s dating Bell.” Gerver runs a hand over his shaved head and mumbles as he walks away. “Al is a girl. I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah, man,” I say. “Crazy stuff.”
“Hey, Stickly broke your keg stand record earlier,” Gerver says. “You gonna try and win it back?”
“There’s no way I’m letting Stickly beat me. Just let me get a refill and I’ll meet you there,” I say.
Gerver slugs me in the arm playfully and heads into the other room.
I scan the bar table, but I’m having trouble figuring out which cans are empty and which ones are full. Everything is looking a little blurry.
“Why don’t you try this, buddy?” Someone places a cold glass of water in my hand, and I turn to see Tyler Evans standing beside me. Actually, I see two Tyler Evans standing beside me. And they both look super concerned.
I manage to master my motor skills long enough to exchange that dumb cup of water for a full beer, and by the time I turn back to Evans, there’s only one of him.
Thank God. I can only take one blond, curly-haired Evans staring at me right now. He may be my best friend and a hell of a defenseman, but I don’t need him to mother me like he always does.
“Look—” Evans places a hand on my shoulder. “Hayden texted me and told me some of the stuff that’s going on with you. I get it’s a lot, but do you really need another drink?”
“I do,” I growl, “and it sure as hell isn’t going be water.”
Damn Tremblay. I shouldn’t be surprised he told Evans. It’s always been the three of us. Best friends, on and off the ice. But now Tremblay’s spending time with his new girlfriend, and I’ve got no one to back me up when Evans is trying to sober me up.
Evans doesn’t get it. This is good for me right now. He doesn’t want to see what I’d be like tonight without a beer. I crack the top and tilt my head back, preparing to drain the entire thing in a single gulp.
Evans sighs and gives in, grabbing a beer himself.
“Hey, you exchange your food stamps for those, Evans?”
I drop the beer can from my lips and see two guys standing near us. I’ve seen them around at Gerver’s parties but can’t remember their names. Doesn’t matter though. Pretty-boy university kids are all the same. Judging Evans and I, just ‘cause we’re from the Westside of town, where people don’t throw money around like it’s confetti. But in their minds, being from the Westside means one thing—an easy target.
I know what it’s like to be preyed on by insecure assholes like these two. Yeah, Dad sent money, but Ma never wanted charity from him. She knew she could look after herself, and she raised me to do the same. Dad paid for my hockey, but that was the only handout I ever took. No, I never had the best of everything, but I had enough. And I still don’t goddamn get why it mattered what brand of sneakers I wore. I guess it was just an easy way for jerks like these guys to decide who to pick on.
Unlucky for these bozos, I stopped being a target the day I stepped onto the ice and learned how to throw a punch.
Any other night, I would have shrugged it off, but not after the day I had. And definitely not after they brought Evs into it.
“Hello gentlemen,” I say. “Glad to see you two were able to tear yourselves away from the mirror to come join us.”
One of them laughs joylessly. “Aren’t you usually passed out in a corner by now, Sacachelli?”
“That’s for later,” I say, rolling my shoulders. I nearly lose my balance. “But you’ll be passed out in a second.” I slam my fist into his face, beer can and all. The beer splatters across the room and the guy staggers into the crowd.
I’ve had enough on-ice brawls with guys twice the size of these goons to teach me how to hold my own. It’s just that I usually don’t have a couple—okay, more than a couple—beers in me when I do.
The guy I punched gives a guttural roar, and then he and his friend both slam into me. I lose my balance and stumble to the ground. Then it’s all fists and knees and I’m swinging whatever way I can. Two against one…it’s hardly fair, but God knows Evans won’t pick a fight on the ice, let alone at a party, so I’m on my own.
My hearing goes first, then my eyes start to spot, and suddenly Gerver and Evans grab my arms. I stop fighting and let them yank me to my feet.
“Did I win?” I mutter. My mouth tastes of blood.
Gerver only grunts. Slowly, the dark spots turn to bursts of light and I see I’m in Gerver’s bathroom with a cloth pressed to my lip.
I don’t want to look in the mirror, so I look down. My knuckles are bloody…is that my blood or the other guy’s?
“You need anything else?” Gerver asks.
“We’re okay,” Evans says. “Sorry about the blood in your living room.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Gerver says. “Those guys weren’t even invited. But save it for the ice next time, Sacs. I can play ref at my own party and kick out assholes like that.
”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” I mumble. My voice is hoarse. I fall to the toilet seat, my vision spinning. I don’t know if it’s from the booze or getting my bell rung.
Evans grabs his phone. “Okay, time for us to leave. I’m calling Hayden to pick us up.”
I close my eyes, feeling myself drift off a little. “Can’t you drive us?”
“No, I’ve had two beers. You know what I say: two deep is too deep!” Evans taps his foot nervously on the tile, his cell pressed to his ear. “Hayden’s not picking up, and neither is Alice. What are they doing?”
I snort. “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.” There’s no use suggesting a cab. Neither of us have the dough for it—something those assholes would love to point out.
“Okay, problem solved,” Evans says, a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Tremblay’s coming?”
“No,” Evans says. “He wouldn’t pick up. But I texted Madison and she said she’s on her way.”
Suddenly, I’m alert. I jump up, regret it immediately, and fall back down to the toilet. “No way, man. Bad plan.”
“What’s wrong?”
I force myself to look in the mirror. My hair is mussed from being with that redhead, my lip is cracked and bleeding, and I’ve got eye bags bigger than Eva’s designer luggage. “Madison can’t see me like this.”
“Why?” Evans says innocently. “It’s not like it’s anything she hasn’t seen before.”
I groan long enough to make my voice raspy. And here, I thought this day couldn’t get any worse….
…
Madison
“Daniel Sacachelli, I swear to God, I’ll kill you if you get blood on my mother’s seats.” My knuckles are white on the steering wheel as I speed through the streets of Chicago.
Daniel just slumps over in the back seat. I relax my grip a little and sigh.
“Thanks again, Mads,” Tyler says from the passenger seat.
Just One of the Royals Page 4