Page 31 of How to Date a Prince

And I think back to the almost kiss with Gav at New Year’s, which helped land me in the current mess. Then, he shifts to Thomas, and somehow, I remember the soft curve of his mouth, the redness of his lips, and the way I wanted to taste them. Heat rises in my face.

“Auggie?”

“Huh.” Attraction, then. I should have figured this out sooner. Fuck, I’m doomed. An anti-monarchist, no less. Queen Victoria must be turning in her grave, rallying up my ancestors for an intervention. But there’s no need because nothing will happen in a million years.

I shake my head. “Never mind what I want.”

“No, seriously. What do you want?”

With a shrug, I meet her gaze. “To be happy,” I say softly. Then, I top up my wine and drink it. My hand trembles. I stare out the window into the blackness.

She frowns slightly. “Oh, lovely.”

I shrug, looking down at my plate. My appetite has left, my meal half-eaten. I push the plate to the side. “It’s been hard,” I confess. “Lately. Without anyone talking to me. And… me not talking to Father. Because of the show. He doesn’t understand me anyway. It’s you. And Gav. And Anne, well, I’ve betrayed her trust, haven’t I?”

“Hey, I’m here. I’m on your side. Remember? Even if…” Katie falters, twisting her napkin in her lap. She gives an unconvincing smile.

I nod, fidgeting with my wineglass. “Part of the disaster last week was thinking of my mother. And that’s just made everything feel worse. More lonely. Like I’m reminded again of how much I’ve lost. Mum. My family. The horses. Which is silly because anyone would look at me and see how much I have.” I gesture broadly. “So, my misery is self-indulgent.”

“Feelings are feelings. I can only imagine how much it hurts not to have your mum. Or your family’s support.” Katie gives me a half smile. “All the riches in the world don’t make up for feeling lonely, do they?”

That cuts deep, and I shiver. I shake my head, thinking of Thomas then.

She puts her cutlery down too, pushing her plate aside.

“Let’s walk,” I say suddenly, glancing outside.

So we do, and the air is refreshing. The darkness is a soothing cover, away from the palace. We walk gravel paths, crunching underfoot. We pause by the lake, see the silhouettes of swans. We watch them glide over the still dark waters, like glass.

“I think I’m attracted to Thomas Golden,” I say at last. “Despite his influencer girlfriend.”

She gazes at me. “I know you are. I knew that the first time you looked at each other. Before you kissed me in front of him.”

“I’m so sorry for what I did,” I tell Katie, looking down at her face, tilted up to mine. “It wasn’t fair.”

She reaches up to trace my jaw. “I know. Nothing about this situation is fair. It’s stupid being in love with my best friend. And there’s nothing I can do about that right now either. Just wait for the feeling to go away.”

“Oh, Katie… I’m so sorry. I really am.”

Katie nods, resigned in the way her shoulders slump. “It’s going to take some time, Auggie. But… we can try to talk again.” She gives a half smile. “I’ve missed you too. And I want to hear about the show as it goes on. Promise?”

“I promise.”

She looks relieved at that. “Good. Thanks.”

I hate that she’s hurting and that I’ve strained our friendship. But with her talking to me again, it’s a start. And I can go back to the show next week feeling like one less thing is a total disaster.

ChapterThirteen

The next Monday, officially week two ofRenaissance Manseason one, I stand tall when I walk into the sprawling historical home that serves as both our set and accommodation. In my room, I unpack as soon as I arrive, hanging my clothes neatly in the wardrobe to keep them from wrinkling, or from wrinkling as much. Again, there’s a very sensible selection of clothes in a camera- and monarchy-friendly array of neutrals. Except for my T-shirt that I sleep in—which is magenta—and equally colorful loungewear bottoms in paisley gold and white.

But today, I’m in grey from head to toe, a dove-grey linen short-sleeve shirt, and a mid-grey pair of chinos. Safe choices, valet and producer approved. I go downstairs for 1:00 p.m. to the lobby, where we’re to meet for the week’s brief. Mondays, we’ve been told, are short days due to travel and serve as our prep day for the challenges.

Cast and crew assembled, Colin is as exuberant as ever at the sight of us as the production team shuffles us around in an arrangement to their liking. Which, once more, puts me by Thomas. He gives me a sidelong glance, and I sidelong glance him right back because two can play that game. Someone touches up my makeup first, then Thomas’.

Colin claps his hands to bring everyone to order. The entry echoes with everyone’s chatter. “Very good. Welcome back, gentlemen.”

There’s a round of dutiful hellos.

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