Page 111 of How to Date a Prince

“This is a whirlwind,” Katie says, holding her head between her hands. “I need a minute. And probably a strong drink.”

“Katie. Red alert. I’m… well, I’m in love with him. Like, really, seriously in love with him,” I say softly, deciding to put it all out for her. I don’t dare mention I could see myself marrying Thomas one day, if he wanted to get married. It’s a private daydream, being with him, showing him my favorite places in the world, and him showing me his, and meeting his family, and learning about everything that matters to him. “I have been for a while. But I’ve been scared to do anything about it. Because of… well, everything. And then he moved on in the meantime. And I tried to do the same, without luck. I mean, Lady Laura. Because he’s impossible to forget.”

“Whatever Thomas is doing, he’s on the rebound from you. You could try more dates?—”

“I’ve dated. Marriageable women, remember?”

She groans. “That’s a political campaign, not any sort of affairs of the heart. Okay. Let’s back up a minute.”

Now, it’s my turn to wait patiently.

“You’re in love with him,” she repeats belatedly.

“Yes. I know it’s not convenient, or what my father wants, or what’s expected. But it’s how I feel. And, well, maybe Thomas was with Adam because Thomas didn’t want to be alone.” I draw in a deep breath. “Should I call him?”

“Wait,” says Katie decisively. “You’ll see him tomorrow night. You can get a better read of what’s going on in person.”

“Okay. Thanks. Tomorrow.” I suppose I can try some patience on for size, but it doesn’t come so readily.

We hang up, and I go see my father in his study. He shuts off his latest reality program, something with pottery—which I approve of—and sit down on the other sofa while our aged ancestors look on. They’re everywhere, like a nostalgic wallpaper, except with more bling frames and extravagant clothes. Hold on, I think at them, you’re in for a moment.

“Auggie.”

I gaze at my father, a little nervous, but I press on. “I want to talk to you about tomorrow night’s show.”

“Are you prepared?”

“As prepared as I can be.” I shrug. “I want to talk to you because you may hear some things you may not expect to hear from me.”

My father lifts a regal eyebrow at me. “Oh?”

How can such a simple word be imbued with such meaning?

“And whatever happens, I want you to know I take my responsibilities very seriously. But I need to live on my own terms. Otherwise, you may as well put me up in the Tower too.”

He frowns. “What are you saying?”

I gaze at him. I stop myself from fidgeting with my signet ring. The ancestors are quiet too.

“I’m gay, Father. I’ve always been gay. I always will be gay.”

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the armrest of the pinstriped sofa he sits on. “Auggie. Please. We discussed this the other day.”

“It’s not a negotiation, for the record.” I stare him down.

Pained, he rubs his face with his hands. “Are you… quite certain?”

Taken aback, I laugh. Whatever response I expected, that wasn’t it. “Yes, Father. Quite. And I don’t know what it means for the monarchy. I agree it would be easier if I was straight, but I’m not. It probably means no children from me. I don’t know. But nearly splitting my head open on a fence helped me put things in perspective, trying to get back to some kind of regular life or finding my new normal. All this to say: I’m done with pretending I’m someone I’m not.”

He chews his lip, nodding slowly. “I see.”

“Since I’m alive… I need to live. I need to be free to do that,” I say softly, searching his eyes, hoping he can truly see me. “Do you understand?”

He nods, impossible to read. He doesn’t look happy. “You’re not abdicating.”

“I’m not abdicating. I told you already. I’ve booked my calendar with events through the fall and into the winter. I’m committed to the Crown.” I hold his gaze. He gazes back, unflinching. “Father, I’m gay, and I’m in love with Thomas Golden.”

He gasps. My father stares at me like I personally have brought the kingdom to ruin. “Auggie—that’s impossible!”

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