Of Princes and Promises

by Sandhya Menon

  Yeah, right.

  RC studied his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot; he hadn’t been sleeping too well. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw one of two images: him gathering Caterina into his arms in the kitchen of the Victorian mansion, or him breaking up with Caterina and the shock her face had registered for a moment before she’d conceded and let him go. It was like she’d considered arguing with him for just a moment, telling him he was wrong, and then had realized there was no point to it. There was no point to it because he was right. Everything Mia had told him was the truth.

  Anyway, it was time to focus on getting dressed. He’d considered not going, but Everett had texted him to make sure he was, and RC found he couldn’t say no. Everett seemed to genuinely enjoy his company. So he would go to Harper’s party, because he deserved to hold his head high even if Caterina had hurt him. He deserved to be RC, the one everyone loved. One day soon, he knew, he’d want to be RC forever. Maybe once he’d graduated and gone off to college. Maybe this summer. More and more, it was becoming imperative that he leave Rahul behind like old, threadbare socks.

  RC adjusted his cashmere sweater—a gift from Caterina—and smoothed his hair back. The sweater brought back memories of the day he’d gone shopping with her, how he’d made her laugh because he couldn’t remember the difference between teal and mauve and kept messing those up, but he pushed the thought away. None of that was real, Rahul, RC thought derisively. Stop being such an ingenue.

  He had everything in place except the hair gel that he’d begun to ration. Opening the pot now, he glanced inside, realizing there was very little left. Dammit. He could make it work for this one time if he was judicious, but he needed to go to Oliver’s shop very soon. Just thinking about not having any more made RC panicky; his chest felt tight, like a big rubber band had wrapped around it and was squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

  Slipping his wallet and phone into his pockets once the gel was in his hair, RC headed out the door to Harper’s party.

  CATERINA

  Caterina had barely walked through the large wooden front doors into the bright, airy marble-tiled foyer when Harper came running, pushed her way through the crowd of guests (most of whom, Caterina noticed, were Harper’s mom’s friends), and slung an arm around her. “I am so glad you’re here right now.”

  As if on cue, a petite Trinidadian girl with long black curly hair in a gorgeous gold paisley dress walked up to Harper, looking harassed. Caterina remembered running into her at previous parties—her name was Latesha (Tesha for short), and her father owned a few world-famous architectural firms.

  “Harper, your mom’s on the warpath again,” Tesha said, rolling her big brown eyes. “I managed to get away, but you need to get her photographs in order before she finds you again. Consider this your warning.” Without waiting for a response, Tesha disappeared into the crowd.

  Harper groaned and clutched her head. “I can’t even with my mother.”

  Caterina glanced at Mia, who raised her eyebrows. Smiling, she asked, “Uh-oh. What’s Grace done now?”

  “She has completely lost her mind. She keeps making me move the prints of her photographs around the table!” Harper led them through the large, open great room with the three-sided fireplace into a study that was barricaded behind French doors. The robin’s-egg-blue walls of the study were covered with the various portraits and landscapes Grace had done over the years as her style evolved. The Time article comparing her to Ansel Adams was there too, framed and hung up on the wall over the large gray wooden desk.

  Harper pointed to the surface of the desk, where a few black-and-white prints of people crossing busy streets, presumably Grace’s newest work, were scattered. “She wants them to look carelessly just left there, you know, like she couldn’t be bothered.” Seeing Caterina’s and Mia’s blank looks, Harper explained, “For the journalists. It would never do for the great Grace Ingall to actually appear to care what people think. She’s an artiste!” Harper put the back of her hand to her forehead for effect, then returned to what she was saying. “Anyway, so I just laid them across like this. Then she comes in and tells me it looks too messy and I need to make an effort. So I rearranged them, and then she said now it looks like I was trying to be careless, which ruins the entire point.” Harper threw her hands up, the tiered silk skirt of her burgundy dress undulating with the motion. “Why can’t she just come in here and do it herself?”

  While Harper was talking, Mia had been moving the photographs around. Now she stood back, her tongue poking out from one corner of her lips. “There.” She put her hands on the hips of her teal-blue tulle skirt. “How does it look now?”

  Harper and Caterina turned to survey her handiwork. “Oh my God,” Harper said slowly, her eyes wide. “How the hell did you do that so fast?”

  The pictures were all slightly touching one another, but were haphazard enough that it looked like Grace might’ve just tossed them onto the table. Still, Mia had taken care to make sure each one’s strongest features were prominently displayed.

  “It looks really good,” Caterina said, turning to her newest friend. “Well done.”

  Mia smiled and took a bow.

  * * *

  As they walked back out into the great room, Caterina ran into Jaya, Grey, DE, Leo, and Samantha, who appeared to have just wandered in.

  “Oh, hello!” Jaya said, smiling at her. “And hi, Harper. Thanks so much for inviting us all!”

  “You’re welcome! Make yourself comfortable. There are people circulating with drinks, but just between you and me, say no to the melon milkshake. I’ve gotta go make sure my mom has everything she needs, but I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” Harper waved to them all and took off toward her mother, who was speaking rather intensely to a short, gray-haired waiter.

  “Whoo, I do not envy her,” DE said, and then snagged a glass of cucumber-infused water off a waiter’s tray.

  “Mm. Grace can be rather difficult, especially right before a show,” Caterina agreed, and tried not to laugh as DE’s eyes nearly fell out of her head from the force of her surprise. It was the first time Caterina had been openly friendly to her after the Alaric debacle last year.

  “I’m Mia,” Mia said from Caterina’s side, and Caterina felt her cheeks warm.

  “Excuse me; I’m forgetting my manners. Yes, this is Mia Mazzanti, my new friend.”

  Mia wrapped her arms around Caterina. “Her new best friend.”

  Caterina laughed, but Jaya and the others only either smiled politely (in Jaya’s, Leo’s, and Samantha’s cases) or appeared dubious (in DE’s and Grey’s cases). But never mind. They weren’t used to Mia like she was. “So, ah, did Rahul come with you all?” Caterina asked, but they shook their heads.

  “No,” Jaya replied as she exchanged a look with DE. Clearly they’d been talking about this. “He chose to ride alone.”

  Caterina bit her lip and glanced at Mia before saying, “I see.” After a pause, she added, “Ah… It might take you a moment to recognize him tonight. He looks pretty different when he comes to these things.” It was just a guess, but Caterina couldn’t imagine that Rahul would come as himself. This was prime RC territory. When they were still on speaking terms, she’d told him he could go as RC to Harper’s party, even though his friends would be there. They’d thought then that this would be a good time for RC’s official debut with his friend group. Caterina felt a pang when she thought about how she’d called him a “proper debutante” and he’d done a little twirl for her.

  “Different how?” Grey asked, his brow furrowed.

  Caterina shrugged. “You’ll see.”

  And that was when he entered.

  They all turned to look in his direction—how could they not?—as he yelled, “RC in the house! Where my boy Everett at?” and Everett McCabe went bounding over to him. The two of them did a strange handshake and clapped each other on the back the way boys sometimes did, and the way Caterina had never seen Rahul
do.

  “Ho-ly shit.” DE set her cucumber water down on a nearby table. “That’s Rahul?”

  “He goes by RC at these events he’s been attending with me,” Caterina said. “But yes. That’s him.” She cut her eyes toward Mia, who was watching Rahul, her eyes wide, her eyebrows up in her hairline. She assumed Mia would have a lot to say later, when they were alone.

  “He’s—he’s completely…” Jaya trailed off, her eyes, like all of theirs, glued to Rahul as he made his way through the crowd, bumping fists and winking at people as he went. He said something to Harper’s mom that made her blush and smile, and then he was headed right for them.

  “Different,” Leo finished, shaking his head. “Mon Dieu.”

  Caterina couldn’t deny that RC looked really, dashingly handsome. He was wearing the cashmere sweater she’d bought him with dark jeans and boots. His hair was styled perfectly, every lock thick and luscious and shiny. His smile, too, was just as artificial as the rest of his trappings. It didn’t reach his brown eyes.

  “Heyyyy,” he said, holding his fist out for DE to bump, which she did, after a long, shocked pause. He caught sight of Mia, and his showman’s smile dimmed just a bit. “Hey, Mia.” Then he was looking at Caterina, and his smile was gone completely. A look of hurt flashed across his face, replaced quickly by a mask of cool defensiveness. The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Hi.”

  “Hello,” Caterina replied, balling her fists by her side when all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and tell him how much she missed him. Did he miss her? She couldn’t tell, but honestly, she didn’t much care. She missed him like the parched earth missed the rain, whether or not he reciprocated those feelings. In that moment, Caterina was thankful for her ingrained training—show no emotion, no matter how big a reaction you were having on the inside.

  “Rahul…,” Leo said, shaking his head. “You are so… You… You…” He rubbed a hand across his face. “I do not know what to say.”

  “Well, firstly, it’s RC, not Rahul.” The smile was back, but it was strained. “And secondly, I know. I’m just…” He spread his arms wide and spun in a slow, confident circle. “I’m who I was always meant to be.”

  CHAPTER 20

  RC

  He was making a concentrated effort not to look at Caterina, but that last comment was 100 percent meant for her. Maybe she didn’t appreciate RC, but lots of other people did. Just look at the reception he’d gotten when he walked in the door! It was like he was a mini-celebrity now. He was finally visible.

  “I liked who you were before,” Grey said in his characteristic impassive, unimpressed way.

  RC snorted. “Right. Maybe what you enjoyed was me being even more socially inept than you.”

  “That’s not fair,” Jaya said, frowning.

  RC looked around at all their faces, all of them in various states of shock or annoyance. Not a single one of them was happy, surprised, excited for him. He’d expected it; that was why he’d come to this thing alone. But still. Seeing it like this, so plainly, just made him realize how far apart they’d all drifted. How little the people he was once closest to in the world really got him. How could they not see the obvious? “Oh, come on. You have to at least admit this is pretty cool. When have I ever looked like this? Or gotten a reception like that?” He waved in the general direction of the front door. “Do you know who that was who came up and shook my hand? Everett McCabe. The son of David fucking McCabe. He’s my buddy now.”

  Leo shook his head slowly. “I remember when I used to be your buddy.” Sam took his hand and squeezed it, looking sad.

  “It’s not like I died!” RC laughed incredulously. “I’m right here!”

  Shaking their heads, Leo, Samantha, Jaya, and Grey wandered off. DE stood looking after them with raised eyebrows. “Awkward.”

  RC scoffed. “Yeah.”

  “DE!” a girl in a golden dress called. “Come show us that Scandinavian dance move!”

  “Tesha!” DE yelled. She picked up a glass of infused water and rushed away.

  So that was that. All his friends dissipated into the crowd, leaving him with Caterina and Mia.

  Incredible. He had almost everything he’d ever wanted, he was finally someone who could fit in seamlessly with them all—understand their jokes, make jokes of his own, get the nuances of their emotions—and they were literally turning their backs on him. They wanted the old Rahul, the bumbling, unintentionally hurtful, sad excuse for a human. Every muscle in his body seized with anger and hurt and disbelief.

  He glanced at Caterina. Opened his mouth to say the thousand things he wanted to say. Mia looked at him with her eyebrows raised, pity dripping off her face. Right. Rahul shut his mouth, realizing Caterina didn’t want to hear what he had to say. His heart ached so badly for a moment that he couldn’t breathe. Then he walked off without looking back, though every cell in his body wanted her to call out to him.

  CATERINA

  She watched his retreating back. Mia squeezed her elbow. “Yikes,” she said under her breath.

  This was what Caterina had done. This was the mess she’d made. She’d taken someone sweet, someone kind, someone innocent and turned and twisted him into something unrecognizable.

  “Well, what can you do?” Mia said into the silence. “He’s going to act however he wants to act.”

  But the words kept echoing in Caterina’s mind. What can you do? What could she do? She had a responsibility in how this had all played out; she wanted to be the one to clean it up.

  Why had she wanted Rahul to become RC in the first place? Pacing to the big leather couch, she sank down on it and thought back to a few weeks ago, to the start of school.

  “What are you thinking?” Mia asked, sitting down beside her, and Caterina gave her a distracted smile.

  “I’m thinking… I’m the reason Rahul became RC in the first place.”

  It was because of Alaric. She’d been feeling especially hurt, especially rejected, especially alone, because of the breakup. She’d been angry, too, at his pity, at the way he’d told her he was taking a supermodel to the Hindman Gala. And she’d wanted to strike back. Instead of examining her feelings or talking about it, she’d done what she’d been trained to do from a very young age—she’d plotted revenge. She’d iced over her heart and the blood in her veins. And she’d pulled Rahul into it. All because she was so terrified of being vulnerable, of the world seeing her as anything other than an untouchable queen.

  “Right…,” Mia said slowly. “That was a pretty big surprise.”

  Caterina looked at her. “I think I need to tell him how I feel about him. I think I need to put my heart out there, Mia.”

  Mia nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Hmm. That might be a really good idea.”

  A group of older people came and sat on the couch, but Caterina hardly noticed. She was looking at RC, where he stood with Everett and a few other guys. He had one hand in his pocket, his attention focused on whatever Everett was saying. And Caterina felt a swell in her heart. Because he looked just like he had when she saw him playing that chess game on his phone. The real Rahul was still in there, waiting to be unlocked. And she was the one who could unlock him.

  It was simple, really. Her extreme fear of vulnerability had made her want him to be someone else. So now she’d be as vulnerable as she possibly could. She’d tell him exactly how she felt about him, exactly how deep her love for him ran. She’d hold nothing back; she’d be more open, more raw, more able to be bruised and hurt than she ever had. But she’d do it because this was the way she could save her Rahul. This was the way to turn the impostor prince back into her beloved frog.

  Giving Mia a quick smile, Caterina stood and made her way through the crowd to him.

  RC

  RC stood with a dozen or so people in the area right off the sunken living room, the party thrumming and buzzing with layers of conversation. The recessed lighting glittered off the polished marble floors, and rousing classical music was
drowned out by swells of laughter.

  Everett had his arm slung around Harper. They weren’t dating, from what he’d told RC, but he was hoping that would change soon. Seeing them together, laughing and making inside jokes, poked at RC’s raw, pulverized heart. That was him and Caterina not too long ago. He remembered being in absolute shock that she seemed to like him so much. But that had just been him reading all the signs wrong again.

  “Ms. Ingall,” a catering service staff member interrupted them, breaking into RC’s sad fog of thoughts. “I’m sorry to bother you, but where would you like me to set the cake?”

  Harper frowned, her pale red eyebrows knitting together. “Cake?”

  “Yes, the lychee-guava cake you ordered for your mother?”

  “Oh, right!” Harper looked around at them all, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry, guys, I totally forgot about this. Let me go sort it out really quick.”

  “Okay, but hurry back or I’ll have to hunt you down,” Everett said, faking a threatening scowl.

  Giggling, Harper pranced away with the caterer close behind her.

  “I love hanging out with her, man,” Everett said, his eyes going all moony the moment she was gone. “I have it bad.” He looked at RC, his brown eyes hopeful. “You think she likes me back?”

  RC scoffed. “Dude, there is no way she doesn’t feel the same way. She’s constantly finding excuses to come talk to you.”