Page 65 of Falling Princess

“Falling in love. Enjoyable sex.” I flip the page. “Adequate sex would be a pretty great alternative to what’s in store for me.”

That killed Raina’s high in a hurry.

“Your dad wouldn’t force you to marry someone you don’t like. Or before you’re ready to.”

“My father is not known for taking my preferences into account.” I may never be ready for marriage. It is not exactly high on my to-do list. Sex, yes. Marriage, no. With marriage will come pressure to have a baby, and I don’t want to inflict this life upon another person.

“Come on, Zosh. Be serious.”

“I am.”

She glared.

“Raina, just because we’re both royalty and your father is supportive and doesn’t insist you behave a certain way, doesn’t mean my situation is comparable to yours. Honestly, it’s a miracle I haven’t been shoved into a wedding dress and down the aisle of the Sun Temple already. I’ll be shocked if he lets me attend one more year at Royals U.” If he does, I have to make sure to complete my degree, because there won’t be another opportunity. I tested out of several intro classes. If I can earn a few more credits over the summer, I stand a chance of finishing next year—depending on how heavy a course load I inflict upon Lorcan.

“You’re such a downer, Zosia. What’s your Happy Ever After, Lorcan?”

I had forgotten he was also in the room. I tried not to feel awkward about airing my grievances in front of him and failed miserably.

“Living to twenty-five sounds ambitious.”

Raina groaned.

I snorted. It’s not funny. It’s a reminder of how dangerous his work is. When I glanced over at him, though, he’s smiling. He meant it to be darkly amusing. He said it for my benefit.

“You two depressing people deserve one another.” Raina twirled. Her skirt caught on the corner of the coffee table and ripped. “Oh, shit. I guess I need to change.”

“If you have one I can wear, I’m open to suggestions,” I called after her. I’m happier in jeans and a T-shirt but it’s no great trouble to dress up for the occasion. My fancier clothing options include a selection of traditional Auralian garb that makes peeing a problem, one suit, and a couple of dresses I received as comps after photo shoots. None seem right for an end-of-year dance that’s a glorified excuse to get drunk.

Dancing made me recall the waltz with Lorcan in London. Warmth in my midsection. I closed my eyes.

I wonder if I can borrow the slinky halter top Raina loaned me the night we sneaked out to the club. She’s probably gotten rid of it.

I should have thought of this before we’re supposed to go out, when I could have done something about it. As it is, they’ll be lucky if I shower and wash my hair before it’s time to leave.

Apparently, the best HEA I can imagine for myself is the right to wear cheap shoes and not bathe. Yikes. I ought to get my mental health assessed. That, however, would initiate a cascade of unfun conversations that I don’t want to deal with, and what’s the point, really? It’s not as if I don’t know I struggle with depression. I’m just not allowed to talk about it, much less seek help.

“Zosia Ilíana Auralian, take your pick.” Raina came back, now wearing a slinky purple spangled dress that hugs her curves, holding out a teal silk ankle-length gown on a hanger in one hand, and in the other, a midnight velvet minidress. I want to pet it. I’ll be lucky if it doesn’t leave my butt cheeks hanging out the bottom. That is a dress worth washing my hair for.

“Minidress,” I said, pointing.

“It’s going to be tight and short on you. It barely fits me.” Raina grinned, though. Now that she’s off the princess theme, she’s all about showing off as much tits and ass as we have to display. I don’t have much—I’m tall and not very well-endowed—but when will I have the chance to dress like I’m going clubbing again? Ever?

“Fabulous. My HEA can be one night of slutty dancing.” It sounded pretty great to me. Beats sitting home feeling depressed, anyway.

I didn’t look at Lorcan. I tried not to even think about him. Poor man, set to guard two princesses in tiny dresses. I refused to feel remotely bad for him.

I showered and pulled on the velvet dress, which felt strange, being made of synthetic fabric instead of spidersilk. Raina did our hair and makeup. She dried mine with her hairdryer, a device I despise as much as she adores. All that hot air and noise in my face. It does make my hair silky and straight, though. I let it hang long, all the way to my rear.

“It’s chilly. You’ll need a jacket.”

“Since when are you our maid, Kenton?” Raina demanded. Ever since our discussion about his and Scarlett’s open relationship, she’s been downright dismissive of him.

Kenton ignored her and turned to me. “You’re going to freeze during the walk over to the Main House if you don’t take a jacket, too, Zosia.”

“I’ll get one. Hang on.” I ducked into my room. Nothing looks quite right with the dress, so I threw on a silk trench coat I bought last fall. With my bare legs sticking out and pink Converse on my feet, I looked perfectly ridiculous. Whatever. I’m not wearing heels unless required to. I’m tall enough as it is, and tonight, I intend to dance.

I came out and dared my friends to mock me, but no one did.

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