Page 56 of How to Date a Prince

And as we all listen, the goose bumps continue because I’m fairly certain he sings about me, about a man who’s trapped in a world of his own creation, hiding behind masks and theatre, and maybe one day, he’ll break free. He catches my eye at one point, ever so fleetingly. When he finishes, he has thunderous applause.

Colin finally gestures for me to come back as the camera crew moves with us over to the last covered piece. “Auggie, I understand there was a disaster with your original project for this week.”

“Sabotage, actually,” I say. “I went with plan B for a shot at a redemption arc.”

I pray that my piece has made it over from the studio intact. And when I carefully remove the soft cloth and plastic covering the work, I sigh with relief.

And Colin, for once, is speechless at the sight of my mother, the Queen, immortalized in clay. It’s dead quiet in the room. I look at the figure of my mum, her expression soft, like she’s about to smile or she has just been smiling.

“Your Royal Highness—Auggie—I had no idea you were such a gifted sculptor. I understood you’re a potter, but I didn’t realize you made figurative work too.”

“I love working with clay. It’s when I feel the freest,” I admit. “And, well, I wanted to make up for last week.”

“You’ve certainly done that, lad, you’ve certainly done that.” Colin claps my shoulder, which goes against the usual royal etiquette guide, but I’m not bothered. And Colin’s rapt on the work. After we finished filming, the others come over to look.

“That’s really beautiful,” Jax tells me.

“Yeah, man. Brilliant.” Travis nods.

“Gentlemen,” Colin calls a couple of minutes later, “please return to your marks. It’s time for the judging segment.”

We gather, and Colin nods as the cameras record once more. “It’s my sheer delight to present the top two finishers according to our judges this week. Thomas, Auggie, please step forward.”

I can’t keep the grin from my face. I’m so relieved I could weep, which Gisele would probably be all over. I barely hear Colin continue discussing Thomas’ brilliant performance and my sculpture.

He has to call my name twice. Thomas flashes a grin at me. “That’s you.”

“Sorry?” Exhaustion leaves me reeling.

“Auggie,” Colin chuckles. “You’ve won the week’s challenge. The judges are terribly impressed with the skill and sensitivity of your work, as well as your fortitude to come back after a devastating incident earlier this week to your project. They were unanimous.”

“Thomas, you’re the runner-up.”

We all shake hands and step to the side.

“Now it’s that terrible time of the show where we must send someone home. I do hate this part and wish you could all stay. However, I don’t write the rules, unfortunately. Regretfully, I’m calling up both Sandeep and Wilson.”

The dead silence returns as they take up their places. Wilson’s jaw is set. Sandeep looks resigned.

“Sandeep, while we enjoyed your painting, we expected more work or depth with the piece that you chose to submit, given that you had a week to work on the project. The judges were intrigued but wanted more work, or for you to go further, or both.”

Sandeep nods acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“Wilson,” Colin says, turning to him. “You have a terrific singing voice and stage presence. However, you didn’t write an original piece or adapt the song to be truly your own, which the judges hoped for, which is why you’re also in the bottom two, given the work we’ve seen from everyone.”

His mouth sours, still standing like he owns the place, even so.

“This was a difficult decision. Unfortunately, Sandeep, you’re going home this week.”

“It’s alright,” he tells everyone. “That means I get to go home sooner to my family and little daughter. It’s been a great experience.” There’s another round of handshakes and farewell before Sandeep leaves.

The rest of the group gathers to examine everyone’s work. Wilson gives me a dark look, which Thomas notices, and frowns ever so slightly. Connor’s also still giving me the cold shoulder. The room’s practically reeling as everyone talks about wrapping up their week and heading home. I’m practically delirious by the time I climb upstairs, telling Alyse I need an emergency nap before we can leave. Even an hour will help.

When I wake, however, Thomas is gone before I can speak to him. But Alyse hands me a piece of paper with a phone number and his initials, which I slip into my pocket as we at last head out for home.

ChapterTwenty-One

On the way back to London, I mostly doze in the back of the car through the stop-and-start rush-hour traffic once we reach the M25. By the time I get to the palace, Thursday night is popping in the city, with July tourists as far as the eye can see. Katie’s out of town, as are Anne and Gav. As usual, my father’s off to some kingly engagement. I head up to my room, order in some food, and pull out the piece of paper from Thomas. I stare hard at his handwritten phone number.

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