Page 100 of How to Date a Prince

“Auggie. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” Exasperated, he gazes at me. His expression shifts to sadness.

I’m quiet. And I don’t mean to be irreverent to hurt him either. I guess it’s a way of coping, maladaptive or not, to protect myself. It’s easier than sitting with the consequences sometimes. For myself and others. “Sorry.”

“Son, you’re the world to me. You and Anne are the most precious gifts. I can’t imagine losing either one of you.”

I press my lips together to keep more inane comments from spilling out. “I’m glad I’m here too, Father. For the record.”

“Very good.”

Shifting in my chair, I check my phone for the time. “I should go. I don’t want to be late for my appointment.”

“Mind the paparazzi,” he warns. “You may end up needing to keep an even lower profile for the next while, Auggie.”

I blink. “You think so? Even today?”

He doesn’t even know what’s coming up onRenaissance Man.Which is probably for the best because he can only handle so many shocks at once.

“I know so,” he says grimly. “Especially after last night again. It’ll be as bad as it was in July. See what Alyse and Nick say. It may be best that you stay home.”

“But I need to get to the clinic.”

He shrugs expansively with a certain resolve that he already knows he’s right and it’s only a matter of time before I come to the same position. I seek Alyse out, who is scheduled to escort me today. Sure enough, she reports there’s a crush of photographers already waiting at the palace gate, with people on scooters waiting to tail us. In the end, I go nowhere and head back to bed.

And I wait for the fuss to die down, longing to see Thomas soon.

ChapterThirty-Six

In fact, the fuss doesn’t die down anytime soon. Instead, the fuss amplifies to the point I end up doing internet searches on myself.

It’s bad.

Which is why I’m at my desk, sheet of paper in hand. It’s an itinerary from the Royal Family’s press team. I have two exclusive interviews lined up, an alarming one-hour-long interview with one of the top journalists in the country, the other withVanity Fair, which is an interesting choice. It’s workable, possibly. And I get free rein on the wardrobe, a definite win.

For the next couple of weeks, I stay at the palace. My rehab team comes to me, which I suppose is the benefit of being a prince. Then again, if I wasn’t a prince, no one would care if I did a header off a horse, except for my family and friends.

The interviewers come to the palace too. The TV interview is exhausting, leaving my head thudding hard after the bright lights and stress, even with the prepared list of approved questions ahead of time. It’s like an hour-long confessional, where I prove to everyone I can still mostly string words together, show I still have my teeth, and give the public some hope for the future of the monarchy, according to my father. And to assure the public that I’m recovering well.

“There’s a lot of sympathy for you, Auggie,” Katie agrees. “People are worried. You won their hearts with opening up about your mum and wowing everyone with your sculpting skills. Then you shocked everyone with the accident. If they weren’t curious about you before, they’re frantic now. I can see why your father wants you to do a couple of interviews.”

Weary, I rub my face. We’re at her flat, a rare outing for me, with extra security. Alyse stands sentry at the door, the rest of the detail strategically around the building. It’s mid-October, and we’re halfway through theRenaissance Manepisodes. The fourth episode included a follow-up segment with the reactions of the remaining cast following my accident, which I haven’t seen before. Thomas is there, looking a little worse for wear, and he breaks my heart.

He looks haunted. Wrecked, even.

“Thomas, you had a unique perspective during the accident,” Colin says with a straight face. They sit in a grand reception room on a pair of paisley overstuffed armchairs facing each other at the country house. “Tell us what happened.”

Katie’s watching the episode again with me. I’m holding my wineglass nearly to the point of white-knuckling it. I hold my breath. Trust Colin to be the master of understatement.

“We were racing. Everyone was very close together. And my horse spooked. Everything happened so quickly after that. It was a blur. I was down… Auggie was down…” Thomas shakes his head, his face draining of color.

My guts wrench.

Colin considers Thomas. “And you were concerned for Auggie.”

“Concerned doesn’t even come close. Terrified.” He falters, looking down. “I thought he was dead. And I would do anything to bring him back. But there was some miracle, and I found a pulse, and I made sure he was breathing. I don’t remember too much after that. Going to the hospital, recovering. I saw stars for a moment, but it was nothing like what he did to save me.”

“And you saw Auggie after the accident.”

He holds Colin’s gaze. “Yes, I did.”

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