by Lauren Runow
I feel sorry for her, thinking she has a chance. I won’t be a total dick, I’ll tell her before the end of the night, so I don’t keep her hopes up.
“Marie, so nice to meet you.” I offer my hand to hers.
I didn’t know it was possible to physically see a woman swoon, but it totally just happened. I watched as her hand went to her heart before she fanned herself.
In front of me.
Really? I have to force myself not to roll my eyes.
Thank God I found someone who I actually want to get to know with Everly, or I might want to shoot myself right about now. These girls don’t see me. They see the name. I could be an ogre with the worst teeth on earth, and they would still be vying for a chance to be my wife.
“Shall we sit for dinner?” I turn to my parents, hoping they agree.
“No, it’s nice out, let’s go outside and take our time getting to know each other,” Dad replies, and I grit my teeth.
They lead the way as we head outside, and of course, cameras start flashing as soon as we do.
“Son, smile at your future wife. These are your first pictures together.” Dad nudges me toward her.
I play along, placing my hand on her lower back. She glances over at me, pleading to be my wife written all over her face. I nod to her before turning to the camera giving everyone the photo they’re vying for.
Sitting outside was getting to be a little much with the paparazzi, so thankfully, we moved the meeting inside after only a few minutes.
“I hear you’re studying art history, Marie. What’s your favorite era?” Mom asks once we’re served our dinner.
“Romanticism and Mannerism are my two favorites, ma’am.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to have you to the house. We have an original Benjamin West painting that was a portrait of one of Sage’s ancestors when he chose his bride.” She puts her hand on her chest. “What a coincidence for us to speak of that painting at this very moment.”
Marie sighs with delight, and I have to literally pinch my inner thigh to keep myself from exploding with anger. She is far from who I want, and I need to hurry this meeting up so I can set the wheels in motion on winning the heart of the woman I can actually see myself marrying someday.
Everly
“Woohoo!” I scream into the phone after Jeannine answers.
“Girl, please don’t ever do that again. You scared the bejesus out of me. And I won’t even start on the ringing in my ears now. This better be good.”
“Turn on the TV. Channel three.” I dance around my room, a weight I’ve been carrying my entire life finally gone.
At last, my life is mine and only mine.
The news is covering the royal family meeting with another potential wife for Sage. This is his last choice, and I just saw him say, “She’s the one.”
I hear her click on the television, but her elation never comes. “Hello? Do you see this?”
She sighs. “Yes, I see it.”
“So why aren’t you celebrating with me?”
“I’m bummed.”
“You’re what?” I say in disbelief.
“I know this is what you wanted, but part of me wanted you to marry him so I could be best friends with a princess.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“I’m sorry. I know. I should be happy for you,” her voice softens with every word.
“Yes. You should. I was being forced to marry someone I don’t even know. Are you even hearing this right? How could you be bummed?”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. And I’m happy for you. I really am.”
Now that she’s totally ruined my high, we hang up, and I sit on my bed, thinking back about my meeting with Sage. Yeah, he wasn’t exactly what I thought he would be, but that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t matter how handsome he is or how he actually seemed interested in what I had to say. I asked him not to choose me, and he respected that. I got what I wanted.
But why is she making me feel otherwise?
I can’t believe she wasn’t happier for me. She’s been by my side through all of this and to learn she was secretly hoping I’d be queen one day, kind of hurts. Am I really the only person who thinks you should marry purely for love and nothing else?
I hear my mom crying and get my answer. She wanted me to marry him more than anything. It breaks my heart to hear her. She doesn't want me to struggle like she did, but I know I can forge my own path.
Now I have to prove to her that he wasn’t the one. I can make something of myself without help from the royal family and do it on my own terms.
6
Sage
Everywhere I go, I see pictures of Marie and me. Every newspaper and magazine speculates about our relationship and if I’ve already proposed. Everything is taking longer than I hoped. I need to buy more time to set up what I have planned for Everly. Against my better judgment, I go along with everything being said.
If anything, it’s going to help me pull off my idea. For this to work, I have to completely catch her off guard. Until then, I let my parents dictate what they think is going to happen.
Since my father already shared his opinion of Everly, I’m going to have to keep my goals a secret. If they find out what I have up my sleeve, everything could go up in smoke.
We’ve met with Marie and her family twice now, and tonight they expect me to go out with her on my own so I can “get to know her.”
I’m not going to lie, I hate the fact that I’m leading her on. I wanted to say something, but I haven’t gotten a chance to be alone with her. I’ve barely said two words to her at these meetings, so I can’t see why she would truly think I’m interested in her.
Both meetings were all about our parents and how they felt our marriage would work. It was like I was swimming in a fish bowl and watching my life unfold in front of me, knowing there was nothing I could do about it.
Now I need to make sure she knows what’s going on in my head.
After the limo parks, I reach to open the door only to realize it’s locked.
“Please, Prince Sage. There are paparazzi everywhere, and I don’t want any photos getting back to your father showing that I didn’t open your door,” Sam, the chauffeur, calls from the driver’s seat.
“Yes, of course,” I respond while sitting back in my seat.
Sam knows I hate the formalities, but I would never jeopardize his livelihood to please my own qualms. After he opens the door, I nod my thanks.
As soon as I exit the vehicle, cameramen swarm the area. Flashes take me by surprise, and I lift my arm to block the bright assaults. Brock, one of my security guards, steps up to stop them. Yet another thing I hate about traveling in the royal motorcade, they all come as well. I want to say I could have done that myself but bite my tongue.
I make my way up to her house, and before I even knock, the door opens to an eager Marie, smiling brightly. “Hello, Prince Sage.”
For the hundredth time, all I can think about is how glad I am that Everly was a candidate on the list my parents gave me. If I had to marry someone who referred to me as “Prince Sage” every time I saw them, I’d shoot myself. It's hard enough having to deal with it in everyday life. I would never want that in my home as well.
I want someone who wants to be with Sage, not Prince Sage. There’s a huge difference.
No matter how much I want to run away, I was raised to be a gentleman and being rude, especially to a female, is not in my character. So I force a smile, gallantly offering my hand to assist her to the waiting limo.
After a few steps down the walkway, she pauses, leans in a little closer and poses for the photographers to get their shot. No wonder my parents love her. She’d fit right in with their pretentious ways.
Once we’re alone in the car, I drop my head and take a deep breath. I need to let her down easy, but how do you tell someone you don't choose them?
We sit in silence for most of the car ride until I get up my nerve. “Marie?”
I cringe again but continue, “I’m sorry, but I need to be straightforward with you. I hate leading you on.”
“I’m sorry. Leading me on? How?”
“I’m supposed to be taking you out tonight to get to know you better, but I’ve already made up my mind about who I’m going to marry, and I’m sorry, but it’s someone else.”
She sits up straight but doesn't show any signs of sadness, or even being mad. Her reaction is nothing I imagined, actually. Instead, she runs her hands down her skirt and repositions her purse on her lap. “I’m sorry to hear this, especially since I’m your last choice. So, it’s an issue, but I’m sure it’s one that we can overcome.”
I tilt my head in question. “Excuse me?”
“Well, no one likes to hear that their future husband covets another woman, but I’m sure after a few years, you will forget about her. Hopefully, one day, I will take her place in your heart.”
“I’m sorry, you’re not understanding. We won’t be getting married.”
She pats my hand like I’m an errant child. “I heard you loud and clear, but I also know that rules are rules, and I’m your last option.”
I sit up straight, shocked to hear what’s coming out of her mouth. “Actually, you’re not.”
“Oh, but I am. We both know that between the first two girls you met and me, I am the better woman for the job.”
She’s right about one thing. The first two girls were absolute wrecks. She’s only slightly better but losing traction quickly with every word that comes out of her mouth.
“There’s one—"
“If you’re talking about the third one, that Everly commoner girl, you’ve clearly lost your mind. I overheard your father telling my father all about her, and that they were so happy to have found me. I know the power that King William has over you and everything in this country. It’s a power that you will soon share, and I will be the lucky woman standing beside you.”
The car comes to a stop, and I’m stunned into silence. This entire time I was under the impression that she was this little puppy, begging for me to take her home. Little did I know she had an arrangement of her own.
Sam opens the door, and Marie begins to exit the car but stops short. “I won’t let this little conversation ruin our night. But please, put on a happy face for the cameras. I don’t want the media to question whether I’m the next princess. The fairytale never said the prince wavered. I don't care how you feel about me behind closed doors, but don’t ever show it to the public, and we’ll be just fine.”
My mouth falls open, and I’m stunned to silence again. There is no fucking way I would ever marry this woman, even if Everly turns me down.
If I didn’t think it would ruin my plans with Everly, I would leave her here and have Sam drive me home, but with all the news crews around, it would be splashed over every paper tomorrow. I can’t risk it, so for now, I exit the limo, smiling sweetly and focusing solely on making this dinner go by as fast as possible.
7
Everly
It’s been a week since Sage moved onto his next victim—I mean wife—and my mom is finally coming to terms with the fact that I won’t be marrying royalty. I didn’t want to rub the thought in her face, so I’ve been staying home with her, just hanging out and watching movies every night until tonight. I’m ready to head out.
I’m finally able to start my life. The one I want for myself and no one else.
While sitting in my room, planning tonight’s shenanigans, I get a text from a number I don’t recognize:
Want to play a game?
I’m intrigued, so I reply:
I’m down. What are the rules?
Solve the riddle to find out: Their crutch could be a thousand feet long, but their call will bring you to this song. Where the danger arises, you’ll find us in disguises.
I stare at the text before me, all kinds of questions running through my head. My stomach turns with the thrill of the unknown. I pick up my phone to call Jeannine.
“What’s up, girl? You ready to head out?” she asks as her hello.
“I got the craziest text from someone I don’t know, asking if I want to play a game, and they sent me a riddle to solve.”
“A riddle? What the fuck?”
“Right? You know I’m in though.”
“Well, yeah, duh,” she states like it was never a question. That’s why I freaking love her. “Who do you think it is? Send it to me.”
I forward her the text before I respond. “I gave my number out to a few guys recently; maybe it’s one of them?”
She pauses, not responding to my suggestion but thinking out loud as she works over the words. “A song…”
“Yeah, that part caught my attention too. So obviously, I need to figure out which one they’re talking about. Maybe the answer is in the lyrics?”
“Yes, I bet it is. Their crutch could be a thousand feet long…” She pauses, and it hits me.
“Thousand Foot Krutch!” I exclaim.
I can’t believe I didn’t put that together earlier. Reading was different than hearing it out loud.
I put her on speakerphone and pull up their iTunes page. “Shit, they have ten albums.”
“Go to YouTube. They’ll show the most popular songs first, and maybe that will narrow it down.”
“Good idea.” I pull up my YouTube app. “Wait, didn’t it say something about a call?”
“Yes, it says their call will bring you to this song. Why?”
“They have a song called Courtesy Call.”
“Play it!” she squeals, excited at the thought of solving the riddle.
I hit play, and we both listen in anticipation. The song talks about the danger in a club and dancing like a disco ball.
Both of us blurt out, “Splitfire!”
The Splitfire is the hottest club on the island.
“That’s got to be it,” I admit.
“It’s worth a shot. Want me to go with you?”
“Nah, I think I’ll fly solo on this.”
“Fine. Keep me posted, and don’t have too much fun.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” I tease and hang up.
Standing in nothing but my bra and boy-short undies, I stare in my closet, searching for the perfect outfit. I want to be comfortable, not too slutty but showing I’m down for any adventure they send my way.
On that note, I’m able to rule out high heels and skirts tight enough that I couldn’t do anything too crazy. I’m heading to a dance club, but the song my mystery texter sent is modern rock, so I decide to play this little game to the fullest.
When I look down at the ripped jean shorts that are so short the front pockets stick out and my tight, little tank top, I give myself a smirk in the mirror.
See, I could never be a princess in this outfit.
Grabbing a plaid shirt to wrap around my waist, in case we end up outside, I head out the door, ready for my adventure.
8
Everly
Questions run through my mind when I pull up to the club. I search around, thinking I’m in the twilight zone for a second. To my astonishment, it’s closed.
Well, no, actually, it’s not closed, but it sure as damn well seems like it.
There’s no one in line, the streets aren’t covered in cars, and the blaring music—normally pleasing to my dancing senses—is silent.
A man wearing a Splitfire polo shirt stands guard at the front door. When I approach, he asks with no emotion, “Everly Stanley?”
I nod my head. “That’s me. Do you have another clue?”
“Nope,” he states, not offering any hints as to what’s going on and turns to open the door.
“Well, aren’t you a bag full of help,” I quip, hitting his chest softly.
Thankfully, his harsh exterior breaks slightly, and I get a small smile to cross his lips before he pulls it back to his tough-guy stance.
The door clicks behind me, and s
uddenly, I’m entrapped in a completely dark space, even my own hand in front of me is indiscernible. For a second I question what the hell I’m doing here, putting myself at risk like this, but then I remember just how public of a place this actually is.
I reach for my phone when the floor brightens, one spot at a time, like a blaring neon sign telling me where to go. They shine for mere seconds before moving on to the next.
The lights stop and form a circle on what appears to be the dance floor. When I reach the landing zone, they all disappear, and I’m encased in total darkness again.
I’m tempted to reach for my phone again, but the commotion coursing through me makes me think twice. This is the exact rush I need after the week I’ve had.
My heart rate spikes when the speakers blast someone screaming, “Hey-o.” I instantly recognize the song Courtesy Call, (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocpDEOXABWg) and I can’t fight the smile crossing my lips as I nod my head to the bass taking over my senses.
Flashes whirl all around me, moving faster as the beat heats up but end suddenly after the song states, “This is my last warning,” leaving me in silence and darkness again.
A computer voice radiates through the room. “Welcome. All systems have been activated.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azkL37-ipKU)
A chill runs up my spine as I look around, for what, I don't know since I can’t see a thing.
The voice continues, “Nothing is what you think. You have to find the truth in everything. At the end, is where we will begin.”
A grueling guitar riff dances through my chest. Hard and dirty. It gets stronger with every cord as red and blue colors flash brightly in time with the music.
Going dark, the voice repeats, “At the end, is where we will begin.”
All the lights on the floor shine at the same time, giving me enough illumination to see the room around me.
