Page 77 of Royally Rivalled

“You got a problem?” Astrid asked.

Sometimes, I forgot Astrid was a princess. Sometimes, it dumbfounded me this woman had once been a gilded virgin in a tower. I suspected she’d never been demure. Astrid had a hell of a mouth on her. I stifled a laugh. She didn’t like to be told to tone it down. The old bat left.

“God, I swear people are being pricks today,” Astrid said.

“Astrid, do you think this is the best timeto?—”

“I will be on my best behaviour. I’m just on the blob and sort of cross.”

“The blob.”

“The crimson wave?”

“What?”

“My period.”

“Why so many euphemisms?” I asked.

“Because we’re inpublic, Parker.”

“But saying ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’ is alright?”

“It’s gross.”

“It’s a normal body process, darling,” I said. “And you have every right to talk about it. I didn’t realise.”

“Aunt Flo arrived this morning, and she came in hot. Sorry if you thought you’d be getting any action later.”

I rubbed her back. “Don’t apologise. You alright?”

“Cramps are a bitch. Apart from that, I don’t need your pity, Parker.”

Despite her protests, Astrid took my hand. I liked this—handholding, chatting, justbeingwith her. We could argue all day about who was better at what or whose theory we thought was better, but she was stillmine. Following some of the best sex I’d ever had, we’d clarified she was now mygirlfriend. How quickly things changed! Unfortunately, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

We made our way to a hotel overlooking Green Park. I elected to walk. Astrid didn’t mind, and I figured the fresh air would do us good. The air was crisp, feeling cleaner than it likely should. The sun improved my mood. I wasn’t looking forward to this but was grateful to have moral support.

“So what is our strategy,mon lapin?” Astrid asked.

I ignored her rare term of endearment. I rather liked it, even if admitting it felt sappy and over-the-top.

“Does everything require a strategy?”

Astrid shot me a look, “Of fuckingcourseit does.”

“Okay, well, Carolyn is the sister I disagree with—the socialite. She wants the society wedding of the year. There is a budget. I’ve spokento our accountant. Mum has hired a planner who—no doubt—wants to spend every penny she can of our money. This is a meeting of the minds. Why I am bringing you, I don’t quite know. I wish my baby sister were coming. Ashleigh is the sweet one. She’s got a wicked sense of humour you’d appreciate. Unfortunately, this is about money. I hate nothing more than doling out cash.”

“I know why you’re bringing me,” Astrid said.

I cocked my head.

“You would like to anger your mother while simultaneously flexing. She’ll whinge about how you are alone, but now you not only have a girlfriend, you’ve got a… me?”

She did a little flourish. I snickered.

“Yes, a you, Astrid. Perhaps a bit. Are you a flex?”

“I’m a goddamn princess, am I not?” She shouted as we ironically walked by Buckingham Palace.

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