Page 64 of Falling Princess
“In what way?”
“More like the nightclub you tried to sneak out to.”
As though I needed additional reminders of how little I deserve his help.
“That was fun, for all of half an hour, before you so rudely interrupted my evening out.” I capped my pen and shot him a mock glare. In light of what happened at Edinburgh Castle, it seems more plausible now that the attack that night could have been Skía. I’m ashamed to think my actions might have gotten someone killed. One more reason to keep my tail tucked inside its gilded cage.
“You got twenty minutes, if that,” Lorcan added, grinning. “You wanted to come to university to try new things, Princess. Seems a pity to pass up an opportunity.”
“Since you clearly want to go, and Raina will be devastated if you stay back because of me, I suppose I shall have to find someone to go with me.”
“Or you could just...go. No date needed.”
Interestingly, the faint blush was back.
“And be your third wheel yet again? I think not.”
Which is how, after putting it off until after the spring break and midterms are over and the end of the year is barreling toward us, I wound up making a last-minute plea to Kenton to go with me to the dance.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied, swooping in to catch me in a headlock. “Can I let you know after finals?”
“You’re not honestly refusing your sovereign, are you?”
“Had you asked me a week ago, I’d have said yes on the spot,” Kenton smirked. “But since you took your time about it, I already have plans to go with Scarlett. She won’t mind you tagging along, though.”
“Forget it. Bash, are you free?”
“I thought we were going as a group?” Bashir said, perplexed.
“We are now.” This made things easier, honestly. And then I realized: Lorcan hadn’t asked Raina to the dance, nor vice versa. Most likely, she put off Bashir in hopes that I would come around to the idea of going alone.
The fucktangular love pentagram strikes again.
* * *
The theme of the dance was Happily Ever After.
I didn’t know student dances had themes. Now, I do.
“I’m going to go as a princess,” Raina said as she paraded around the living room in one of her poofiest long gowns.
I, sitting on the couch in athletic shorts, a sweatshirt over a tank top and no bra, barely looked up from my book. “So am I. Duh.”
“You’re such a grump.” Raina, who was also wearing a costume tiara and waving a spatula like a scepter, pretended to bop me on the head. “Poof. I’ve turned you into a mouse.”
“I think I’d like that better than being a princess. Better chance of getting that fairy tale happily ever after before the cat eats me.”
Raina sighed. “If the cat eats you, it’s not a HEA, dummy. Haven’t you ever read a romance novel?”
“No.”
“You should try one. They’re fun.”
“I read about soil acidification for fun.” That was not the book on my lap, however. I was trying to concentrate on my religion class studies, which I hate. I therefore didn’t mind the interruptions. “There’s no point in setting unrealistic expectations for myself, Raina. Fun or not, it’s easier to pretend that sh—stuff doesn’t exist.”
I don’t swear out loud, though in my head I swear all the time. Can’t go around dropping f-bombs from my royal lips; nobody wants a cursing princess, any more than they want one who cries.
“What stuff?”
