Dirty Prince

by Vanessa Waltz

  Then suddenly his arms wrap around my waist and he picks me off the bed, lowering me to the ground so I’m facing the mirror. Liam kneels upright as I bend over on all fours. I see my face twist with the agony of desire flaming up inside me. He jerks upright, nailing my ass so hard I can barely breathe, and then I watch as he presses down on my clit. The burn is incredible.

  I come hard, and the vibrator continues to singe my nerves as along with the cock still ramming home. Then he bites his lip and explodes inside me. The heat of his cock fills me up, and I rock my hips backward to meet his slowing thrusts. Chest heaving, he bends over, kissing my back, nearly making me collapse.

  Liam pulls out. I’m on all fours, waiting for him to pick me up, or kiss me, but he just stands. I thought he might have fucked the anger out of his system, but it’s still there, only colder.

  “Hey.”

  He gives me a vacant look over his shoulder and walks away.

  Prince Liam and Princess Daisy are so cute!

  Perfect couple. So beautiful. Please follow me!

  I love them so much.

  I read the comments on Liam’s latest Instagram update, which features a selfie of Liam and I beaming at the camera. That was taken yesterday. He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my cheek for the camera. I remember the confusion from the warmth in my chest and the horrible emptiness when he dropped his arm and walked away. Why the hell do I care if he’s distancing himself? Isn’t that what I wanted?

  It annoys me. Lately, I’m annoyed by everything, by the reports that the king’s health is failing, by the tabloids increasingly nicer treatment of me, by the glow that sits in my chest when I read these stupid comments, and by the fact that this place is starting to grow on me.

  This strange, bitter silence doesn’t sit well with me.

  Liam’s nowhere to be found these days, and when we are together, it’s usually constrained to the everyday niceties. “Good morning.” “Good evening.” “How are you?” My frustration with him grows every day, but at the same time I’m anxious to return to California. God, it’s been months since I’ve felt hot sunshine on my skin. Anglefell’s beautiful, but it’s not home.

  My frustration deeps when I glance at the various emails from my friends and family constantly wondering if I’m all right, if I’m being treated well, their disbelief that everything is fine.

  I shove my chair from the computer and grab my camera, deciding to take a walk outside. Sitting in here all day isn’t healthy, and besides, it gets boring. It’s been nice practicing my photography around the castle, and the guards tend not to dog me as much when I stay inside the grounds.

  It’s semi-overcast today, the sky a troubled gray and blue as I walk into the courtyard to take pictures of the huge gatehouse. I’m still fascinated by the architecture despite living here for months and using all the modern amenities—like castle Wi-Fi.

  Then I spot a blond man jogging beneath an arch to get into the courtyard. He’s wearing running shorts and a tank top while I’m bundled up in a hoodie and jeans. Lucian spots me and walks up to me.

  “Hey, Daisy. How are you doing?”

  “I’m doing well, how about you?”

  “I’ve just gone out for a little jog,” he says, chest heaving. “I’m keen to take a longer walk, if you like. We haven’t talked in ages.”

  “Sure. I’d love that, actually.”

  “Well, come on, then.”

  He gives me a warm smile as I fall into step next to him. Lucian heads for the gatehouse, four of his guards automatically gathering behind us as we walk.

  “So, how’s Liam?”

  Lucian’s tone is conversational, but I can’t help but think he might’ve sensed something’s wrong.

  “He’s been a little weird. Avoiding me, I think.”

  We start on the dirt path outside the castle that leads toward town, Lucian shaking his head. “I don’t know what’s up with him, but I’ve noticed it too.”

  “Really?”

  He nods. “Yeah, definitely. I think it’s all the American stuff.” His white teeth flash at me. “I mean, personally, I find it charming, but he’s always been stuck-up about that sort of thing.”

  Huh.

  “Well, he had no problem eating a cheeseburger in front of me and not sharing it.”

  I’ll probably never let that one go for as long as I live.

  Lucian’s laughter is a welcome sound, making me feel lighter than I have in weeks. We keep toward the gate at the end of the castle grounds in front of which the paparazzi are always camped. They snap photos of us as we walk past.

  “Smile, Princess! Give us a nice smile.”

  “How about a nice fuck you,” I mutter out of the side of my mouth.

  The path is slightly damp with recent rain, but it looks like the sky is opening itself up to sunshine. The paparazzi follow us, screaming anything to get us to turn around and react, but I ignore the inflammatory comments. I try engaging Lucian in conversation, but it’s almost impossible with the paparazzi constantly interjecting.

  “Where are we going?” I ask him.

  “Oh, I don’t really have a place in mind.”

  “Princess Daisy, are you knocked up?”

  Lucian shoots them a glare, but honestly it’s probably one of the least horrible things they’ve asked me.

  “Well, I’ve never really had a chance to walk around town.”

  “Is Prince Liam dying?”

  Desperate. Now they’re just screaming random things to see if we’ll react.

  It’s irritating, like a cloud of gnats that won’t leave you alone. Eventually a few taper off and the guards insulate us so I can actually enjoy the city. We walk down a hill, away from the castle, and the scenery becomes a lot more urban. It’s as if there’s an invisible barrier around the castle and we’ve ventured out of its idyllic bubble. The roads are paved with asphalt, the cobblestone gone, and it’s much busier than the sleepy village around the castle. It’s midday and people are everywhere, shopping in the small boutiques and lining up for pastries. There’s a woman with groceries under her arm, holding her toddler’s hand. The harried look on her face disappears when we walk past.

  “That’s the prince!”

  Fear begins to crawl over my skin as heightened whispers echo around us, but Lucian looks unworried. He casually walks to the back of a queue to a pastry shop and motions toward me. I stand next to him as more people flock to our sides to take pictures. My lungs are starting to burn, and I’m vividly reminded of the incident in Kirkenhaum. Our guards, four bulky men, seem to be enough to keep them at bay. For now.

  “Should we leave?” I ask.

  “We just arrived here!”

  “I don’t think it’s safe.”

  “Come on, Daisy. Have a pasty.”

  Whatever the hell that is. He buys something that looks like an apple turnover wrapped in a napkin from the shop, and then hands it to me. I bite into it expecting fruits and syrup, and I get a savory mix of ground beef, potatoes, and carrots. It’s delicious.

  “Wow. Pretty good. Thanks.”

  Lucian smiles encouragingly and grabs my wrist, gently leading me out of the line as he takes a huge bite of his pasty. We walk down the street in an attempt to keep the photographers from hanging around us.

  “Let’s go in here.” He gestures toward a crowded café, where we’re bound to get mobbed by people.

  “Sir, I must advise against going inside. There are too many people.”

  “Rubbish. I’ve done this loads of times with you, and nothing bad has ever happened. Daisy’s not afraid, is she?”

  His light eyes lock on mine.

  Actually, she kind of is.

  “Come!”

  Lucian’s strong hand wraps around mine and pulls me inside before his guards can open the door for him. It’s a dark little café with a giant chalkboard behind the counter. Unremarkable, really. It seems to be a spot popular with the college crowd. People sit at the little tables
with their laptops, hammering at their keyboards. A small pang of regret runs through me as I watch them. In just a few months, fall semester will be starting.

  Lucian drags me into line. I try to make myself diminished and unimportant, but avoiding eye contact probably makes me look even more suspicious. I study the walls instead, and the cash register, where there are snacks and magazines for sale.

  ROYAL EXPOSÉ.

  The red-and-white title blazes at me. Without even thinking, I slide it out of the box.

  PRINCE LIAM’S GALLANT RESCUE

  Under the blazing-white title is a photograph of us in the lake. Liam is standing in the water, his head bent over mine. I’m completely drenched, water dripping from me as he holds me in his arms. He’s kissing me as water rolls down his face. I feel the heat of his lips, the warmth of the sun. It was a beautiful day, one of the best days in Anglefell.

  “Princess Daisy?”

  A young man waiting for his order looks at the tabloid and at me, making the connection.

  “I’m not—”

  “You’re her!”

  My face burns as a hundred eyes fall on me. I roll up the tabloid and shrug. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

  Lucian smirks at me as more people start to gawk at us. The whispers start. “Prince Lucian!” and “That’s the Yankee” and “Fuck her.”

  Fuck you too.

  I freeze as a woman with wild eyes locks her gaze right onto mine. “Get the fuck out of my country! Fuck the royals!”

  “Yeah!”

  A few more voices chime in, and then a bearded man breaks free of the crowd. His young face is twisted with malice. I scream as he lunges at me, his fingers catching my hood. I’m yanked forward as the guards shove him to the floor and pin his arms behind his back, but now there are only two left to fend off the madness.

  “Go back home, Americunt!”

  I flinch at the vitriol aimed at me from a guy who looks like he could’ve been in one of my English classes.

  Lucian screams in outrage. “That’s bang out of order! Guards!”

  Goaded past endurance, one of the guards smashes a fist against the heckler’s chin, knocking him down flat. The patrons go nuts, screaming about abuse of power as half of them film us with their iPhones. Hypocrites.

  “Fuck the royals!”

  “Let him go!”

  Instead of backing away, Lucian lunges toward the crowd, looking utterly enraged. What the hell is he doing? Doesn’t he realize they outnumber us ten to one?

  “Get the American! She’s just as bad!”

  Rough hands seize my sweater and twist. I fight the frenzied mob, shoving at faces. A bottle breaks somewhere. My scream is swallowed by voices demanding the American. Lucian reaches for my hand, but I’m swallowed by the crowd.

  “Get the fuck off me!”

  They won’t listen. They’re beyond that now.

  There’s a crash, and my body is jolted violently against the wall.

  Police.

  That’s my first thought when I see the stream of suited men. A cloud of pepper fills the café as they blast the mob with spray. I shut my eyes against the ruthless sting and feel arms drop away from me. The angry shouts quickly become wails as the entire place is saturated. I open my eyes through a blur of tears and see a throng of blue blobs.

  “Daisy? Where the fuck is Daisy?”

  Liam.

  “I don’t know,” Lucian responds in a sullen voice.

  “How could you not fucking know?”

  My heart clenches at the panic in his voice.

  “Here!” I shout.

  I hear footsteps running toward me, and then protective arms surround me, lifting me from the ground. I flinch as his thumbs touch my streaming eyes and wipe away my tears.

  “Shit, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Sir, we must leave. The police will make arrests.”

  “Come, Daisy.”

  I numbly follow the pressure on my wrist, nearly tripping on something that feels like a glass bottle. Lucian stands near the entrance, tears and snot all over his face.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  I jump at the thunderous roar of Liam’s voice.

  We’re back in the castle, in a room I’ve never been to before. There are walls of books, a coffee table, and a few plush armchairs. We’re seated in them. I keep dabbing at my eyes with a tissue, but most of the pain is gone.

  Liam leans across the coffee table, staring at his brother, whose arms cross firmly over his chest.

  “I dunno what you mean.”

  The pot of tea sitting on the table rattles violently and the lid bounces off loudly as Liam slams his fist against the wood.

  “I mean you taking my wife into a crowded café. What possessed you to act like such a stupid idiot?”

  “Your wife?” he says, eyes narrowing. “It’s plain to everyone that this is a complete farce, so don’t give me the—”

  “She is my wife, and you put her in danger. She could have been killed, and if that happened, I would’ve thrown you in a cell to rot!”

  He rolls his eyes. “You are so dramatic.”

  My heart pounds as I watch the exchange.

  “You knew there was a chance she might get hurt.”

  Okay, I have to interject. “Whoa, Liam. That’s going a bit too far, don’t you think?” My cheeks burn when he fixes his potent glare on me. “Why don’t we just calm down?”

  Lucian smirks at him. “Listen to your wife, brother.”

  My husband stands, his features thick with rage as he grabs Lucian’s collar and slams his other fist against his head.

  Jesus.

  Lucian’s stocky body drops to the ground, but he quickly raises himself to his knees, letting out a scream of fury. He launches at Liam, and then suddenly they’re both rolling on the floor. It’s a full-out brawl.

  “Guards!”

  They’ve already rushed into the room, and I think for a moment about how confusing it must be to be trained to follow the orders of the royal family when two members of it are screaming different things. One of them pries Liam from Lucian, who was fighting on his back. A trickle of blood runs down Liam’s mouth, but he wipes it away, unconcerned.

  “Your Highness must calm down,” one of the guards says, unhelpfully.

  “Go fuck yourself!”

  Lucian stands, giving his brother a contemptuous look as he shrugs off the guard. “Always a class act, my brother.”

  I reach across the table and replace the lid on the teapot just for something to do. The sound turns their attention back toward me, and my face burns.

  “Unhand me, damn it!”

  The guard reluctantly lets go of Liam, who readjusts his coat angrily. There’s an awkward stretch of silence until the guards apparently decide their presence is no longer needed, and they leave the room. It’s completely bizarre to me, but with five boys they must be pretty used to this.

  Lucian closes his red mouth in a gruesome smile. “You realize he’s never going to let you go, right? Liam will never divorce you.”

  What?

  “Shut the fuck up,” Liam growls.

  “He doesn’t want you to leave,” he says quickly. “Why would he when approval ratings are so high?”

  “That’s crazy!” I finally blurt out, looking at both of them. “Look at what happened!”

  “Despite the little scene in the café today, most people love their American princess. Isn’t that right, brother?”

  Liam’s jaw tenses.

  “He’ll never let you leave.”

  He gives his brother a cruel smile and walks out of the room. My eyes are all for Liam, who looks at me as though he’s resigned to something awful.

  “He’s just fucking with me, right?”

  I watch with sinking horror as Liam works his mouth. “He’s not.”

  Oh my fucking God.

  “What the hell do you mean? You can’t kee
p me here, Liam. That wasn’t part of the deal!”

  “Fuck the deal! What the hell do I get out of it? Tell me this, Daisy. What the hell do I get out of this deal?”

  I’m stunned. He takes a few steps forward, his energy filling up the room.

  “You needed a wife until your father died.”

  “And then when he dies I’m crowned king. You get to skip off home while I pick up the pieces. You get to be free, while I’m—” He stops, his face burning red.

  “That’s not my problem! I didn’t sign up for this life, you did.”

  “I did, did I? I chose to be born to my parents?”

  “No, that’s not what I—”

  “You showed me a side of life I never knew existed.”

  The day at the lake flashes in my mind, and a tendril of heat wraps around my heart as I gaze up at Liam.

  “I hate you for making me care, but I’m not giving you up when my dad dies. I don’t care how many reporters you talk to.”

  “I haven’t talked to any reporters!”

  “That’s not what I saw on your laptop.”

  Goddamn it.

  “You didn’t see what you thought you saw.”

  “I don’t care,” he says in a toneless voice that hurts me more than I’d like to admit. “I need you to do what’s best for Anglefell. You’re staying.”

  Real panic blazes in my chest as he turns to walk away. “I can’t spend the rest of my life here. I have a life back there.”

  “You’ll build a life here.”

  “You can’t force me to stay here!”

  He stops to look at me. Jealousy mingles with the fractured pain in his eyes. The selfish bastard knows he can’t stop me, but he’ll try his damnedest to keep me here in his gilded cage.

  “So that’s it, huh? I don’t want to stay, so you’ll force me anyway? Prince Liam always has to get what he wants, no matter the cost.”

  He smiles, and it’s a thin, joyless one. “It’s about time you took that to heart.”

  “Jackass.”

  Every few minutes, the air bursts with another swear word as though I’m suffering from an extreme case of Tourette’s.

  “Motherfucking jerk.”

  I take a few seconds to savor that one. Anglefell accents don’t lend themselves well to American insults. I’m literally the only one in the country who can say motherfucker and not sound like a complete idiot.