Page 107 of How to Date a Prince

We’re quiet for a long moment, regarding each other.

“But you know what else is trauma? Anne and I not talking about our dead mother with you. Not acknowledging who I am, or what I want, or making me feel I have choices.”

“What are you saying?” My father looks unhappily at me. “Auggie, I’ve tried my very best for you, believe me. And I’m sorry you can’t see that. Without your mother, when she died, I was lost too. I’m very sorry I wasn’t the father you needed me to be, then and now. I’ve always done my best to watch out for you, to give you the skills you need to be a wonderful king, which I know you will be?—”

“If I’m miserable, what’s it all for? Who benefits?” I search his eyes, looking for any shred of understanding that might reveal itself if I look hard enough, and I’m leading my own search and rescue expedition. I want an honest answer, if it even exists.

“It’s all for the kingdom, my son. For the people. Our calling is greater than you or me or our personal desires.”

I sigh. “I know, but I also need to live too. I’m not a puppet. Maybe you can live like this. But I can’t. Not anymore.”

“What are you telling me, son? What about the lovely young woman you were seeing?” My father’s eyebrows knit together. He solemnly contemplates me.

I spread my hands wide. “Laura, as lovely as she is, she’s not the right one for me. Or any other woman, for that matter, before you come up with a list of names. If you haven’t done already.” I hold his gaze. “Because I am, and will continue to be, attracted to men.”

He frowns at me. “Auggie. Please. Be reasonable.”

I roll my eyes. “Reason doesn’t have anything to do with this. It has to do with who I am and who I’m attracted to. Yes, everything would be a lot easier if I was straight, but I’m not. And… I want the freedom to live my life. Like anyone else has. Anyone else in the kingdom can be gay but me.”

“I’ll—I’ll disown you.”

I lift my jaw. “You won’t. You can’t. It’s impossible. Your firstborn is set to rule, whether you like or not. Gay or not, too.”

“You’re not abdicating.” His fists tighten.

“I didn’t say anything about abdicating. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I won’t marry. I don’t know.” If being with Thomas has taught me anything, I realize belatedly, it’s that I do have choices. And I don’t have to have all the answers to all the problems to have a chance at love in my life. Like everyone else in the kingdom, I have a right to be happy too. And for a short time, I was. And if that’s what I’ve learned from being with Thomas, even briefly, it’s broadened my world and my place in it. And I can find my way to some kind of courage, even without answers.

“Maybe you could have a marriage of convenience,” the King suggests delicately. “It’s not the first time?—”

“No.” I give him a hard look.

My face is hot. Everything’s too close all of a sudden. The air’s too still. “I’m not living a lie to convenience you.”

He gives me a stern look. “You need biological heirs, my son. From wedlock. It’s important.”

I shake my head, exhausted. The room reels. Weary, I rub my eyes, taking a moment for the floor to steady itself. “Not today. Also, news flash: we don’t live in medieval times anymore. I need a shower. And a nap.”

He looks at me with concern, turning to leave, but then he stops. He looks back at me, something vulnerable in his posture, and in his eyes. “Please know I love you. Nearly losing you this summer was utterly terrifying. And I’m very sorry your recovery is difficult. I blame myself, so you know, about your accident. About the decision and risk to send you on the program. About the disaster we had and how it nearly was worse.”

I’m quiet, gazing at him. It’s good to hear an acknowledgment, at least.

“And I’m grateful you’re here. Even if we don’t agree on everything.”

Nodding, I sit on the edge of the bed as the room starts to list dangerously.

His expression softens slightly. “I’ll leave you to rest. But please know I am open to discussing your mother at any time. We may be very different, in who we are and our outlook, but we can always agree on her.”

It’s a start, at least. “Okay. I’d like that. Please.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he nods.

I’m lost in my thoughts once my father leaves, shutting the door behind him. When I sit on my bed, my hand brushes the letter I left earlier on my bed, confirming my attendance at theRenaissance Manfinale in front of a live studio audience. And, most importantly, a chance to see Thomas again.

* * *

Needless to say, on Friday, I keep trawling Instagram between Thomas’s and Adam’s feeds. Which, admittedly, isn’t the moral high ground and no way for someone with minimal social media exposure to act. The pull of Thomas’ social media is like gravity, and I can’t resist, especially when the payoff is so glorious. Every time I see him, I’m taken back to our secret summer dream together when the world was ours.

When Katie comes over in a downpour, she calls me out after the third surreptitious check when I don’t think she’s looking. We’ve finished our makeup, both of us with smoky eyes for maximum drama, and we have now moved on to our nails. I’m in a pink-and-red silk kimono over my T-shirt and jeans, Katie in a cropped pullover and skirt.

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