My Royally Cute Enemy
Sweet Mountain High: Class of 2021
Lacy Andersen
Sweet Heart Books LLC
Copyright © 2021 by Lacy Andersen and Sweet Heart Books LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
1. August
2. Tori
3. August
4. Tori
5. August
6. Tori
7. August
8. Tori
9. August
10. Tori
11. August
12. Tori
13. August
14. Tori
15. August
Epilogue
About the Author
More from Sweet Heart Books
1
August
“Somebody’s in a heap of royal trouble.”
I opened my eyes to the blurry image of my elder brother leaning over me. He waved a rolled-up magazine in my face, a delighted grin on his lips. With a groan, I pushed myself up and snatched it out of his hands.
Nothing dignified ever came from the bright and colorful pages of a tabloid—especially not when it was my mug plastered front and center of that morning’s edition, standing in front of a wrecked Porsche. I blinked at the sight, my head fuzzy with the effects of the previous night’s adventure. It was hard to recall the moment this picture had taken place, but it was most definitely sometime after I’d slipped away from my royal guards and into my friend’s ride. Despite the minuscule fender bender, somehow, I’d made it back to my room and managed to grab a few hours of rest before breakfast arrived with this treasure on top.
Soon the whole country would know.
Including my father.
“Has he seen this yet?” I asked, glancing up at Henry.
He was three years older than me at twenty, but we both shared the same ruddy-brown head of curls. The same deep-brown eyes and athletic build. But that was where our similarities ended. Henry took to royal life like a natural. The same couldn’t be said of myself.
“Who do you think sent me up here?” he asked, his eyes dancing with humor as he perched himself on the edge of my king-sized bed. “You’re in for it big time, little brother.”
I groaned and scrubbed my face with my fingers. “It wasn’t even my fault. Ned’s a terrible driver. He’s the one that rolled through that traffic sign.”
“I don’t think Duke Harrington sees it that way. According to his message this morning, the car was totaled, and he wants compensation.”
“It’s always my fault. Never mind that Ned took his father’s car without permission. Blame it on the prince.”
That was how it always went. No matter what trouble my friends concocted, I always took the blame. In the tabloids, in the news, and online. Even in my own home. There was no justice. All I wanted was a good time. Not a media circus.
It wasn’t like I’d asked for this position.
“‘Prince August and his wild antics,’” a deep and disapproving voice boomed from my doorway.
I cringed, not just from the volume but from the word-for-word quotation of the headline from today’s tabloid. Rest was most definitely completed. Now, it was time to face the consequences.
Father marched into the room, the clang of his cane against the wooden floorboards punctuating every step with equal disdain. I sat up higher in bed, the sheets sliding down to reveal my bare chest. I hadn’t even bothered to put on my pajamas when I’d rolled into bed last night. Father wouldn’t approve.
On the other hand, when it came to me, he didn’t approve of much in the first place.
“Sorry, Father. Won’t happen again.”
I shot him an innocent smile and then stuffed a bite of bagel in my mouth from the morning tray that had been left on my bedside table sometime while I slept. A full mouth was safer than spinning a web of excuses. Father could always see right through me. It was better just to roll with the punches. He’d probably lecture and complain, I would nod and apologize, and we’d both go our merry ways until I messed up again. It was a routine we had down pat.
He stopped beside the bed, his dark gray eyes scanning over me. His complexion was pale, but I couldn’t miss the blush of anger on his cheeks. Deep lines surrounded his hardened mouth and eyes while his curly, salt-and-pepper hair was parted and combed neatly. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time. Not for me. And not for the duke left without a car.”
He stood straight as a rod, even after all the years of walking with a cane. His ambassadors always maintained that my father’s time in the military had hardened him into a life-long soldier. I’d heard rumors that once upon a time, he’d been as fun-loving and wild as me. But that was a lifetime ago. My brother and I had never known that man.
“You’re seventeen, Augustus,” he continued, his weight shifting off his bad leg as he managed to suppress a pained grimace. “Your tutors tell me that you’ve neglected your studies. They say that you sneak away during their sessions. You refuse to take anything seriously. I am frankly at a loss of what to do with you.”
“Boarding school, perhaps?” I swallowed down my bagel and washed it down with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
Henry snorted beside me, knowing full well how this conversation would go. Father’s darkened expression told me everything I needed to know. He’d never give in.
“I know what goes on in those places,” he growled, stomping his cane on the floor. “I went to boarding school myself as a boy. You shall not be given free license to conduct yourself in a shameful manner. You may think the small kingdom of Valta is unimportant on the world stage, but our homeland deserves more respect than that.”
An eye roll was out of the question, although I would’ve loved to make such a move. Most of the boys I’d grown up with from noble families had been sent to those boarding schools he spoke of. I was the one left behind. The one sentenced to a life of daily drudgery and misery as my father and his band of tutors molded me into the perfect leader to join my brother’s court someday. It was madness. I could feel my childhood slipping away, along with any chance of real happiness.
Just as my brother was doing, I was on track to become my father—a man whose only identity was found within his position. And as anyone who knew my father could tell, he wasn’t the poster child for a fulfilled life. He was everything dull, suppressed, and lifeless. And he was already dragging Henry down that road. That was the life that waited for me.
And I was determined to put that off for as long as possible.
“Understood, Father.” I slipped out of bed and grabbed a pair of trousers and a cotton t-shirt from my wardrobe. Father hated it when I dressed like a commoner, but it was the one way I could still be myself around here. Yanking the shirt over my head, I shot him a quick smile. “Are we done here? I’ve got mathematics in ten.”
“Your mathematics session has been canceled.”
I snapped my attention back in his direction. He couldn’t have been serious. Mathematics was the subject I loathed the most. Any day I could skip was a day worth living. With a grin, I grabbed my wallet from the nightstand a
nd headed toward the door. “In that case, I might take the Jag for a spin before lunch.”
“Augustus, wait.”
I slowed my pace and glanced over my shoulder but didn’t stop. I could feel one of Father’s impending lectures coming on. The room always went kind of still beforehand—like the quiet before an abominably boring storm.
“Can’t we do this later?” I asked, nearly out the door.
Henry still sat on the edge of my bed, looking thoroughly amused by this exchange. It wasn’t often that he was the one on the receiving end of a lecture. In fact, I was quite sure he’d never been in my place. He’d been born perfectly amenable to everything royal and boring. Even the starched, white button-down shirt and trousers he wore were boring. And I was certain that the moment this entertainment was over, he’d go back to studying our kingdom’s finances like the good son he was. He’d make a great king someday.
That was the kind of son Father wanted. Not me.
“Augustus, do not make me chase after you,” Father said as I stepped out the door. “Please. Halt.”
The pain in his voice triggered something inside of me. I turned to see him standing in the middle of my large bedroom, his face contorted as he rubbed a hand against his thigh. Henry and I both rushed toward him, each of us taking an arm and leading him to a nearby chair. Father never would’ve asked for help. He was too proud. But ever since our mother had passed ten years ago, his struggle with muscular dystrophy had grown worse. It was something we rarely talked about, but we both knew that someday it would take our father from this earth.
“Have you seen Dr. Rhiordan lately?” I asked, kneeling by his feet. “I think you should have him take a look.”
Henry nodded in agreement, already reaching for the button that would call the staff to my room. “We’ll have someone make an appointment.”
Father grumbled and shook his head. “No need. It was just a slight twinge.”
My lips twisted in a wry grin. If Father ever wondered where I got my stubbornness from, he need not look very far. “If you say so. Now, what is it that you needed to speak about?”
He frowned and then sighed. “I’ve come to make a deal with you, son.”
Surprise washed over me. I exchanged looks with Henry. He seemed as shocked as me. This wasn’t some lecture about the responsibilities we had to the Kingdom of Valta? He could’ve knocked me over with a push of a finger.
“What kind of deal?” I looked at him, suspicion clouding my head.
“The kind of deal that delays Oxford for another year after you graduate.” He stared calmly into my eyes as my heart rate picked up. “The kind that sends you to America until you graduate. It’s become apparent to me that you’ve felt disadvantaged due to my preferences for your educational upbringing. Last night’s childish antics haven’t been the first, and I don’t believe they’ll be the last. A change is in order. This could be the place where we meet in the middle. You attend school in the States and uphold yourself with dignity, and then I will agree to delay your University education for another year.”
“Father, you can’t be serious,” Henry said in a low tone.
“I am.” He nodded sharply. “I’ve had it in the works for a while, but it was finalized this morning, including the family who will act as your host. Your brother isn’t like you, Henry. He requires a different route. I am willing to give this a chance if it keeps him out of trouble.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I thought of all the possibilities. America? The land of keg parties, hot girls, and sports cars? I could already imagine myself at one of those posh New York schools. Or maybe even a laid-back California school where they held class outside to take advantage of the sun. If I’d known getting into a car wreck would be the impetus for such a deal, I would’ve done it years ago.
“Heck, yes!” I nearly shouted.
The slight narrowing of Father’s eyes told me he wasn’t impressed with my reaction. Still, he trudged on. “In that case, I shall have your bags packed. Only casual clothes, mind you. Part of this deal is that you shall keep your true identity a secret from everyone except your host family. If word gets out about your title, you shall have to come home, finish your studies, and go straight to University. No gap year. No shenanigans. Consider this the ultimate test, boy.”
I bowed my head, even as my heart rate rose. “Yes, Father.”
No way was I giving up a potential gap year. It was a dream come true. The potential to push off my courtly duties for another year? This was all golden for me. This deal was starting to sound too good to be true. I couldn’t help but wonder what my father got out of it . . .
Still, I wasn’t going to pester him about it. Not if I wanted to ruin a good thing. He grasped my shoulder, and I helped him up from the chair. As he limped toward the door, I sunk into my bed and glanced over at the tabloid. No more paparazzi to hound my every move. Starting tomorrow, I was going to be a nobody. A “regular Joe,” as the Americans called it.
I couldn’t wait.
“Wait—where are you sending me?” I asked before he could leave.
That was the only thing I needed to know. The rest could wait.
Father stopped at the threshold. “A little place called Sweet Mountain High. You start on Monday.”
I could’ve sworn I saw him grin before he turned away, but I couldn’t be sure. I was too caught up in my fantasies of what an American school would look like. Did I need to change my accent? Buy a new wardrobe? Learn how to drive a beat-up pickup truck? I couldn’t be sure, but anything would be worth it to get out of Valta and somewhere more exciting.
“Looks like you’re headed for greener pastures, little brother.” Henry crossed his arms tight over his chest and grinned at me. “The question is, how long can you last before they send you packing?”
“Haven’t you heard? American girls love European men.” I shot him a cocky smile. “They’ll never want me to leave.”
“Right.” He clicked his tongue and moved toward the door. “We shall see about that. I give it a month. If you last longer than that, you can have my dapple-gray. If not, I get your Jaguar.”
I’d been green with envy for the last year over Henry’s new riding horse. If he wanted to lose her in a sure thing, who was I to argue?
“Deal.”
“Good luck, little brother. You’re going to need it.”
I didn’t need any luck. I already had everything I needed. America was the land of the free. That was exactly the place for me. And Sweet Mountain High was going to welcome this prince with open arms.
2
Tori
Sundays at the Thorpe house were becoming completely predictable. It was a battle of wills. A stare down like no other.
An epic war between two strong-willed girls.
My best friend’s gaze felt scorching on the back of my neck. I could practically hear her internally screaming at me as I avoided her eyes and stuck my trowel deep into the ground, displacing the tidy mulch to make room for a new plant in my grandfather’s backyard. This was a scenario we played out week after week. With the same old script.
Apparently, my friend thought I was boring.
“I just can’t go out,” I told her, breaking up a plod of dirt in my hands. “I’m too messy. You’d be embarrassed to be seen with me.”
I hazarded a glance up at her. Erin scornfully eyed my dirt-stained gloves and rubber boots. I smiled innocently and held out my grubby hands, thankful for another reason to get out of her weekly Sunday meet-up with kids from school at the mall parking lot. It was a thing. A thing full of loud music, random dance parties, and throwing popcorn at pigeons. It was a thing that I didn’t approve of. Still, that didn’t stop my bestie from trying to recruit me into her schemes. She was always trying to get me into trouble.
With a slight smirk, Erin reached forward and plucked at my neatly buttoned, purple cardigan. “Not a speck of dirt here, Tori.” She tossed her blonde locks over her shoulder and co
cked a hip beneath a tan leopard-print skirt. “Come on, girlie. When’s the last time you had any fun? It’s got to be better than planting hostas.”
“Actually, these are hyacinths,” I said, holding up a bulb. “Grandpa meant to plant them himself, but he’s been too busy at work lately.”
He’d been busy a lot lately. The poor guy was putting in sixty-hour weeks, breaking his neck to get his boss at the Valtanese Winery to notice him. It couldn’t have been easy on the guy who’d taken in his wild child’s surprise baby and raised her as his own. I’d be forever grateful to the man. He was Dad, Mom, and Grandparent to me—all rolled into one. The only thing my mom had ever done for me was leave behind her reckless reputation, which had turned out to be a huge stain on my entire childhood.
No one around here had seen her in years, but that didn’t mean they didn’t all still judge our family for her mistakes. Getting pregnant at sixteen, with no clue who my father was, didn’t exactly elevate her in the eyes of this town. And my grandpa was the one who had to deal with the fallout when she left it all behind—along with her tiny daughter. The least I could do was plant some bulbs for him.
Still, I was pretty sure Erin wasn’t buying the whole act. She blew a pink bubble and popped it loudly, her annoyance broadcast loud and clear. “You left out the fun part, Tori. That’s totally lame. Digging in the dirt isn’t fun. I don’t care what you say.”
“Yes, it is. And besides that, contributing to the beautification of our Earth is another sign of character that I can include on my application to the National Honor Society when I turn it in on Monday.”
My Royally Cute Enemy: A YA Sweet Romance (Sweet Mountain High, Year 2: A Sweet YA Romance Series Book 3) Page 1
