Page 93 of How to Date a Prince

“Yes?” he asks.

“What about me? Where am I in all this?” I sigh, shaking my head. This is the life I’ve been born into, after all. “Never mind.”

His expression softens. “Auggie. You’re right here, at home. Safe. Try dating. I hear it’s fun. If you like, I could have a list of lovely women looking for suitors drawn up for you.”

I groan. “Do these hypothetical women have a say? What if they find me repulsive? Or highly annoying? Or—something,” I try, my words spilling out in a tumble. My chest is tight.

My father sighs. “Augustus. You’re a very handsome young man, terribly clever, and a prince. What’s there not to like?”

“I’m not that clever,” I groan, looking down at my soup. “Actually, I’m the opposite of clever. Also, I think I’m finished. I’m sorry.” A butler comes to clear my meal. I look at my father again. “And I need to get ready for my appointment this afternoon.”

“Very well. And I will send a list over to you.”

“Terrific.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. It’s not a good trait.” He frowns at me, stern.

“See? People will hate my sarcasm, and I’ll die alone. My cats will eat me, starting with the soft bits. Here lies King Augustus, bachelor. To be so lucky to have my soft bits eaten by small yet persistent carnivores. At least they would have been good companions before they ate me.”

“Augustus.”

“Sorry.” It’s still a thrill to wind him up.

I excuse myself from the dining room and instead go get ready for my appointment. Unfortunately, there’s no escaping my father when he has a mission planned out for me. And now, all I can do is think ofRenaissance Manairing next month, when all my secrets will be aired. And wonder who is winning the challenges. And all I crave is Thomas.

* * *

According to Thomas’ very busy Instagram feed, when I download the app, he’s been far from idle since I last saw him.

Thomas, with his arms around two women, beaming at the camera. Thomas, looking stunning by the sea blue enough to be the Med again. Thomas, standing beside a criminally attractive man. I can’t help but notice their arms are touching. My face tightens into a scowl.

Scrolling back, I see the dark-haired man in several of his photos. Adam Theroux, according to the Instagram tag. Or more like @heythatadam. Which makes me dizzy to read.

Frowning, I continue. I’m seated in a reception room in the palace, with sunbeams flooding the room through tall windows. The rain has broken, at least for a little while.

I scroll through Adam Theroux’s feed as well. And in return, Thomas appears in several photos. In one, they have their arms around each other’s shoulders at some kind of black-tie event. Adam turns out to be some kind of influencer-model, which makes sense given his sultry looks and enviable fashion sense. In my head, I can only dream of looking like that. He’s sculpted and mysterious and aggravatingly a lot around Thomas in recent weeks. Which I don’t approve of, but Thomas can obviously go on and live his best life. After all, I’m the opposite of an influencer, and I wear a proverbial crown.

I go deeper into my social media and internet dive, searching their names together. I’m rewarded with more images, including stock photos, gossip sites, and more social media. Along with a couple of magazines. I scroll through headlines till my eyes blur.

Thomas Golden and Adam Theroux Spotted Together in NYC

Out and Proud: Thomas and Adam Take Manhattan

Thomas Golden: Glow Up App Launch in New Year

Influencer Adam Theroux Throws Charity Ball for Halloween

Nope, that didn’t help at all.

A dark feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Slump-shouldered, I look at a picture of Thomas. He looks incredibly happy. I mean, I’m happy he’s happy, but it hurts.

In a video, Adam leans into Thomas, beaming, before kissing his shoulder.

Well, then. I swallow hard. Whatever we had, Thomas has clearly already moved on.

They start showing up in photos together in late August. Which means they must have been dating by the time Thomas showed up at the palace as a surprise. What was Thomas playing at? Literally rubbernecking at the scene of the accident?

My eyes sting.

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