Page 11 of Fake Dating the Prince

“What about you?” Brayden propped his chin on his hand. “What do you do? Or, whatwillyou do, I guess?”

As soon as he said it, he wondered if it weren’t too personal a question. But Flip didn’t bat an eyelash. “The same as my father, probably—meditate in the morning, then presents with Clara and my aunt and mother. And then Dad and I will listen to a webcast from India, probably.”

That sounded nice. Different than what Brayden was used to, but nice. And…. “You’re really close to your dad, aren’t you?”

Flip flushed. “When you’re the only two brown people in the entire European royalty collective, you share a lot of experiences that others don’t understand.”

“I get it. I mean, I don’t get it, obviously, white commoner over here. But that makes sense. It seems like it’s more than that, though. You look up to him.”

This time Flip did seem taken aback. He paused completely and tilted his head as though reassessing Brayden’s motives. “He’s happy. Considerate. Kind. He and my mom, they’re… I guess you haven’t heard the story.”

“The way you say that, I’m the only person in the country who hasn’t.” Brayden batted his eyelashes. “You want to fill me in, or should I google it?”

“God, no. Promise me you won’t google. I’ll never live it down if I get the details wrong.” Flip shook his head. “My parents met at the Night of a Thousand Lights some—I guess it has to be thirty-five, thirty-six years ago now. Have I explained what it’s about? It’s… actually kind of terrible.”

Brayden had his elbows on the table; he couldn’t help it. “I feel like I need popcorn. Tell me.”

“My mother’s…ancestorsis too far back, but some of her relatives were British nobility who went on, let’s generously call it a colonization tour. And they were so consumed with white guilt they began a scholarship program.”

“I feel like this is definitely more colorful than the Google version.” He really wanted that popcorn, though. “What kind of scholarships?”

“Arts—music, theater, drama, dance, and later cinema.”Cinema.God, he was so unbearably posh. “All ages—children, teens, young adults—in the UK but also here in Lyngria. But of course all the recipients of these scholarships in non-European countries went abroad to train.”

Brayden didn’t bother fighting the eye roll. “Oh, of course.” Because how could a worthy school exist in a place like India.

“Obviously my parents and I have made some fundamental changes to the scholarships. But that’s how it used to work, in a nutshell. And every year there’d be a Night of a Thousand Lights, and top students and alumni from all over the world were invited to attend and perform and rub elbows with various important people.”

By that Brayden inferred directors, conductors, choreographers, producers, and the rest of the -ers and -ors. “I’m with you so far.”

“Well, imagine this—it’s the 1980s. My mother has just assumed the throne at the young age of twenty-seven, after her parents stepped down due to my grandmother’s ailing health. It’s her first time hosting this huge event all by herself. She’s nervous, but she’s faking it really well.

“Before the event opens, it’s traditional for the host to meet all the scholarship recipients in attendance for the event. So Mom put on her tiara and her gown a little early and went down to the ballroom to meet everyone, only she was so nervous she was actuallyreallyearly—like an hour early. And she decided a queen couldn’t be so indecisive as to go back upstairs thirty seconds after she’d just come down, so she was stuck there when my father came in, lost and looking for a restroom.”

“And he couldn’t leave once he’d seen her either,” Brayden guessed.

“It would have been a bit rude to try to escape the hostess of the party that raises money for the scholarship that gave you your livelihood,” Flip agreed. “Though he readily confesses he didn’t want to escape. Well.” He smiled so broadly the corners of his eyes crinkled, and Brayden was glad he was sitting down so he didn’t swoon. “He didreallyhave to pee by the time the party started.”

Brayden snorted in surprised laughter—not just a little one either but a great piglike honk. He should probably have been mortified, but he caught Flip’s eyes at exactly the wrong moment and saw the humor register there before Flip’s good manners could cover it up. That only made him laugh harder. He snorted again and dissolved into giggles. Across the table, Flip had his hand over his eyes and his shoulders were shaking in silent mirth.

The first time Brayden caught his breath—“Okay, come on, it wasn’tthatfunny”—Fliphiccupped, and that set them both off again. They had a few more false starts before they managed to get themselves under control, and Flip wiped tears from the corners of his eyes as Brayden clutched his stomach. “I think I have a cramp,” he admitted.

Flip cleared his throat once and then grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the table and blotted his face. “I haven’t laughed like that in years.”

Something warm and sweet and possessive swept through Brayden—a sense of accomplishment that he could bring that kind of joy to someone who had everything. It left him feeling tender under the ribs. “Me neither.”

“No?” Flip cocked his head. “I would’ve thought…. You seem like the kind of person who lives every moment to the fullest.”

“I am.” Brayden shrugged, suddenly self-conscious, the back of his neck prickling. He smoothed a hand over it. “I do. But I guess….” He frowned, suddenly realizing the truth. “I’m alone for a lot of that. Hard to make yourself belly laugh.”

“I suppose so.”

“Anyway.” Brayden pushed that tender, raw feeling to the side and centered himself. They’d been talking about how Flip’s parents met. “The royal meet-cute. Your mom’s the queen, and your dad—a scholarship kid, you said.”

“He was thirty when they met, and well established in his career. But yes.” When Flip talked about his parents, his eyes took on a kind of dreaminess. Obviously they were all very close. “Mom had never seen any of his films, of course.”

Brayden sat up straighter. “Films?” he echoed. Something in his brain clicked into place. “Your dad’s amovie star?”

“He was, in India in the seventies and eighties. Now he’s prince consort of Lyngria.” Flip gave him a strange look. “You didn’t know any of this? Really?”

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