Royal Disaster #2

by Ember Casey

  “I’m not doing an impression of anyone,” Nicholas insists. “But someone has to keep you out of trouble—”

  “And I thought you, at least, would be on my side. You’re the one who talks about wanting to run off and do your own thing for a few years. You of all people should understand me wanting to take a little break from the ‘royal’ life.”

  A furrow has appeared between Nicholas’s brows. “I, at least, have come to understand that you can’t simply ‘take off’ from being a royal the way you’d take off a coat.”

  Clearly I’ve found myself in the middle of some family conflict here, and I’m not sure whether I should interfere or let them work it out. Finally, I reach over and grab the television remote.

  “How about we watch something?” I say. “We’ve got like ten hours to kill…”

  I don’t wait for either of them to respond. I turn on the television and lean back in my chair, praying there’s some sort of good movie marathon that will keep us entertained for the day. Otherwise, I think I might have to murder Ol’ Nicky, and killing a royal right after having a leaked sex tape with his sister is probably not the sort of publicity I want right now.

  Unfortunately, it’s not some cheesy action movie that first pops up on the screen. It’s a pop culture news show, and the hot topic of the day is—you guessed it—Sophia’s and my now infamous video.

  “This is just completely shocking,” a big-haired correspondent is saying to her co-anchor. “You’d expect something like this from Pax, but Princess Sophia…”

  “Are we really that surprised, though?” her partner chimes in. “Think about it—Princess Sophia has been in the spotlight her entire life. Always been expected to be perfect. She was bound to have a rebellious streak eventually—they all do. This week it’s a sex tape, next week it’s drugs, the week after that she’ll have a breakdown and shave her head in front of the paparazzi. Are we really all that shocked?”

  I glance back at Sophia. She’s sitting on the edge of the sofa, perfectly still, clearly hanging on every word they say. Her face has gone sickly pale.

  I quickly hit the button to change the channel. “Why don’t we find something a little more entertaining?”

  Sophia doesn’t answer. Her brother, though, grumbles something under his breath. I’m not sure I want to know what.

  I finally settle on the game show channel, since that seems harmless enough. Sophia still hasn’t said a word, and when I look at her again, she still seems oddly stiff and pale.

  And are you surprised? By noon the whole world will have seen that tape. And it’s not me they’re talking about.

  In spite of her general optimism and good spiritedness, I know this can’t be easy for her. She might put on a brave face for her brother and me, but I’d be willing to bet my favorite guitar that inside, she’s a mess.

  Her arm is dangling over the edge of the sofa. I wait until I’m sure her brother’s attention is fully on the TV, then reach over and take her fingers gently in mine. Ol’ Nicky can’t see it from where he’s sitting.

  Her eyes flick over to me, and I’d swear I see a hint of gratitude there, but she’s more guarded now than she was before. That’s okay. I’m not afraid of a challenge.

  I wish I could get her alone. Get her somewhere where she can let it all out. Where I could comfort her without her brother yelling at us to stop touching.

  Look at you, getting all protective again. I still don’t know what it is about this girl, but I’m not going to fight it, not now.

  In the meantime, it’s enough to hold her hand. It might be the only thing that gets me through the next ten hours.

  Sophia

  Thank God Nicholas can’t see Pax holding my hand. His touch is the only thing keeping me from having a complete and total meltdown at the moment.

  I’m pretending to be fine, but the news show rattled me in a way I didn’t think was possible. Am I really having a mental breakdown? Is this mini rebellion I’ve had in the past few days a sign of something that runs a lot deeper?

  Perhaps it is. Maybe I’m destined to be a cliché and become a very public failure.

  Pax squeezes my hand, almost as though he can read my thoughts. He looks over at me and smiles.

  I can’t help but return the grin. Something about him puts me at ease, even though by all measures, I should be a basket case.

  “No looking at each other, either.” Nicholas grumbles from the other side of the sofa.

  I roll my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I am not the one who is ridiculous.” He shakes his head. “You’ve both been ridiculous. This show is ridiculous.” His voice rises in anger with each phrase that comes out of his mouth. “What is the point of this program, anyway? Why would someone need to guess the price of a household item?” He’s almost yelling, though it doesn’t seem to be particularly focused on the television. “And why in God’s name would one care about such things so much that they would actually watch a show like this on television?”

  He rises, glaring over at us, and as soon as he does, he spots the handholding. “And I said no touching!”

  Pax drops my hand and rakes it through his hair. “It’s a TV show, Nicky. You need to get a grip—”

  My brother’s hands ball into fists again. “It’s Nicholas. My sister may call me Nick. You…” He shakes his head, obviously trying to clear his rising anger. “You may call me Your Highness.”

  “Nick…” I let out a long breath. “He didn’t do anything—”

  He snaps his gaze to mine, almost with military precision. “He’s done plenty. You both have. Do you really think I want to spend my time playing nanny to the two of you?”

  Pax lifts a brow and his mouth opens as though he’s going to say something. But he snaps his jaw closed, almost as if he’s thought better of it.

  I look back up at my brother. “You can go. You don’t have to stay—”

  “You think our family is going to just let me go?” He shakes his head. “That isn’t how it works, and you know it.” He drops onto the sofa next to me.

  “I know you’re frustrated.” Pax looks between the two of us. “I am, too. This isn’t exactly an ideal situation for any of us.”

  Nick growls under his breath, but says nothing.

  “But we may as well make the best of it.” Something crosses his expression, but I can’t tell exactly what it is. “I know…I know the events of last night make you think I’m some sort of—”

  “That’s exactly what they make me think.” Nick glares at Pax. “You can’t expect anyone to think anything else.”

  “I don’t. I…” Pax rakes another hand through his hair. “Look, if you’d asked me yesterday what I wanted, this wouldn’t have even crossed my mind.”

  “Nor mine.” Nick grumbles the words as he turns his gaze back to mine. “I’m finally free of the military, and this is where I end up?” He shakes his head. “Trust me, I’d rather be back in training.”

  I reach over to pat my brother’s hand, but he tears it away, narrowing his gaze at me. None of my brothers enjoyed their time in Montovia’s military, but Nick may have had the hardest time of all. He’s lived in the shadow of all three of our older brothers, having to live up to their examples. As the only girl in our family, I know I’ve had it easy.

  Pax stands, pulling his phone from his pocket. “It’s close to noon. We could order a pizza or something. I heard the food at the place we’re going tonight isn’t that great…”

  “Then why would you go there?” Nick shakes his head again, letting out a long breath. “This has to be the most ridiculous day—”

  “As you’ve mentioned.” Pax rolls his eyes. “A lot.”

  Nick glares at him for a moment, saying nothing.

  I stand, too. I think I would normally have some fun with this entire situation. I’d probably find a way to pit the two of them against each other to make them both see how silly they’re being. But at the moment, I just don’t
have the energy. Part of me still wants to crawl into a hole and die at the knowledge that the entire world is currently watching a video of me fucking the man standing across from me.

  The thought makes me feel suddenly very exposed again, and I cross my arms over my chest. I look over at Pax. “Do you have a shirt I might borrow?”

  Nick stands next to me and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You’ll wear mine.”

  “Give me a break.” Pax rolls his eyes again. “I live here. My clothes are here. I’ll find something for her.”

  “Good.” Nick refastens the button he’s undone at his collar. “I don’t suppose you might allow me to use your restroom while you’re looking for an appropriate shirt for my sister to wear?”

  Pax lifts a finger, pointing across the room. “Help yourself, Nicky. Right over there.”

  Nick doesn’t move. “Not until you’re out of the room.”

  “Because in the two minutes you’re in the bathroom, I’m going to defile your sister again?” Pax lifts an amused brow. “We’re going to have a long few months ahead of us if that’s what you think.”

  Nick lets out a long breath, dropping his shoulders. He glares at Pax for a moment. “Fine. But if you so much as lay a finger on my sister in those two minutes, I’ll kill you.” His hands ball into fists at his side again. “So don’t tempt me.”

  Pax

  Naturally, the minute he’s gone, I pull Sophia into my arms.

  “Don’t push it,” she warns me, but she doesn’t pull away.

  “Just one kiss,” I say. “Something to get us through what’s probably going to be the longest day of our lives.”

  My mouth falls on hers, hungry for her lips. My arms wrap around her, hauling her as close to my body as she can go. The feel of her body pressed up against mine is enough to send my blood surging toward my groin, and I find myself wondering if it’s physically possible to squeeze in a quickie before Ol’ Nicky gets back.

  It’s Sophia who pulls away.

  “Go get that shirt before my brother gets back,” she says.

  “You’re really going to let him boss us around?”

  She steps back and crosses her arms. “Tell me—if a video of your sister Molly having sex with some guy was released into the world, what would you do?”

  I frown. “I… This isn’t about Molly.”

  “What would you do?” she demands. “Would you make friends with the guy? Or would you make sure he never laid a hand on your little sister ever again?”

  “That’s different!” I insist. “Molly is… She’s not like you. You can be trusted to make your own decisions.”

  “And she can’t? I’m sure she’d love to know that.”

  “That’s not…aargh! You know what I mean. It’s different. That’s all.”

  I can tell by the glint in her eyes that she’s enjoying this way too much. “It’s exactly the same, and you know it. I don’t like Nick trying to control me either, but at least I understand why. In a way, it’s nice knowing my family cares that much.”

  “That’s the kind of caring you want? Someone ordering you around?” I shake my head. “This isn’t something that can be solved by keeping us apart. Fuck, he hasn’t even asked you how you’re doing. If he really cared, he’d—”

  “Are you questioning if my brother cares for me?” she says. “I’ve only known you for a couple of days and you suddenly think you know how my family works? Please.” It looks like my concern has only managed to piss her off. “I don’t need your help, Pax. All I asked for is a shirt. And I recommend you go find one before my brother gets back if you don’t want to make this situation even worse.”

  I start to argue, but then I realize she’s right in at least one respect—I have only known her for a couple of days, and I really have no idea how her family works. I don’t even know how she works. Despite the fact that we’ve slept together, we’re still essentially strangers.

  And I’m way too invested in her, considering that.

  I turn away, running my hand through my hair as I stride into my bedroom. I’ll just get her the shirt and be done with it. Behind me, I hear Nicholas leave the bathroom and ask his sister, “Did that bastard behave himself while I was gone?”

  I don’t listen for her response. I’m not sure I want to hear it.

  Yeah, I’m in way over my head. If my bandmates could see me now, they’d never let me live it down. Me, Pax, the rock god and notorious womanizer, can’t find his footing around a couple of royals. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? How did I manage to convince myself that I wanted this? That any woman was worth all this trouble?

  I grab an old band T-shirt from my closet and return to the living room. Nicholas and Sophia have already resumed their places on the sofa, and I toss the T-shirt in her direction.

  “I’ll go order us that pizza,” I say. I slide my phone out of my pocket and head into the kitchen, but I have no intention of calling for food. Instead, I pull up Mick’s number. I need to find a way to wiggle out of all this, and my manager is the only one I trust to help me do it.

  When I look at my phone, though, my stomach sinks. There are dozens of new text messages, and nearly as many missed calls. My phone has been on silent all morning, but I don’t need to read or hear any of the messages to know what they say. That video of Sophia and me is out in the world, and everyone I know wants to talk about it.

  I put my phone back to sleep and set it on the counter, then run my hand over my face. By now my mom and sisters have probably heard about it, too, and I can’t imagine facing them. I’ve been the subject of a few scandals over the years, but nothing quite like this. My Catholic grandfather is probably rolling over in his grave right now.

  But there’s no walking away from this. I can’t leave Sophia to deal with it alone.

  Damn conscience. Every time I think I can escape Sophia’s spell, it pulls me right back in. With a sigh, I grab my phone again and order a damn pizza, praying I have the strength to make it through this day—and any that come after.

  Sophia

  The day drags on forever. We switch television channels a few times, but the airwaves seem to be wall-to-wall coverage of my impending meltdown.

  I haven’t checked my phone today, nor do I have any desire to look at it again. I can tell by the way Nicholas is working his jaw every time his phone buzzes that my family has plenty to say. But thank God he isn’t passing along the messages. The punishment I’m giving myself is enough without hearing what Father or Andrew has to say about this.

  My luggage somehow shows up within an hour of when we’re to leave for the restaurant. I probably would have enjoyed shopping for a new dress for this occasion, but there’s no way I could have done that today. I’m still not sure I even want to venture outside. Pax’s apartment seems cramped with the three of us here, but I’m sure that’s only because of the tension that hangs in the room like a suffocating blanket.

  Getting out will be good, I tell myself as I’m putting on my dress. It’s better to face this than to let everyone continue to talk behind my back.

  I know I’m lying to myself. But I’m not one to brood about things—I leave that to Andrew. I’ll face this with a smile on my face, and if I have to, I’ll pretend it never happened. All day today, I’ve tried to think of how Leopold would have handled this mess. I suppose I could have called him, but with his new baby, I’m sure helping me with my public relations disaster is the last thing he’d want to do. Besides, I’ve been witness to enough of his stunts to know how he’d play this.

  He’d give the press something else to talk about. And that is exactly what I intend to do tonight. Pax’s manager might just be right—the only way to spin this is to make it look like I’m deeply in love with the man. It can’t be that hard to pretend I’m in love—God knows I feel enough lust for Pax to last me a lifetime.

  Pax stands when I enter the living room. His eyes widen and he gives me a small shake of his head. “You look—”
>
  He’s cut off with a growl from my brother.

  Pax glares over at him before he looks back at me. “Stunning.”

  “Thanks.” The way Pax is looking at me makes me wish my brother was anywhere but here.

  “The car is already here.” Pax looks over at Nicholas. “Maybe you could ride up front—”

  “Maybe you could ride up front.” It’s the first time my brother has spoken in hours, and it makes me wonder what my family has been saying to him in all those text messages. “Or maybe we could fasten a rope around you and the car could drag you behind—”

  “Okay.” I force a smile for my brother. “I think that’s enough.”

  Nicholas merely glares at Pax.

  Pax forces an uncomfortable grin. “Let’s just get out of here. We can decide who sits where when we get downstairs.”

  After an uncomfortable ride in the elevator—which is miraculously free of other people—we’re rushed to the garage to get in our waiting car, which turns out to be a limousine.

  “Fuck. This is just…great.” Pax shakes his head. “It isn’t like everyone isn’t already going to watching us,” he grumbles as he types something into his phone.

  “Well, at least we don’t have to fight over who sits in front.” I smile, looking between the two men. “This way—”

  “You’ll sit next to me,” Nicholas says.

  “Well, that would be pretty stupid.” Pax glares over at him. “It isn’t like there aren’t going to be a shitload of photographers outside the restaurant. You think they won’t notice who’s sitting next to who when the driver opens the door?”