Page 7 of Royal Fling
I didn’t know why she couldn’t message me herself. I had a perfectly good mobile phone,andI knew how to use it.
But Teagan, like the rest of the palace, were stuck in the nineties. She wouldn’t even let me access my own emails now that I’d graduated from university. And even during my studies, I had to battle for control over my academic address so that I could access all of my materials and enquire about my classes.
It didn’t matter that I was studying under an alias or that nobody knew who I was even though I went to the prestigious St. George’s Greenwich College university full of the elite.
What I really wanted was to study at a normal university, live a normal life, before I had to go back home and rule my country. But that was another compromise I’d had to make. So many compromises I had to put up with. Some days I couldn’t believe I was a crown prince with the amount of freedom I had. Or lack thereof.
I sat close to the window—tinted, of course—and watched the night lights of London become buildings and streetlights. The murky waters of the Thames were reflecting a distorted moon, and I took a deep breath.
It may not be anything like home, but it was as close as it got. I’d spent five years living life here, and quite frankly, I wasn’t ready to give it up. However, I knew that my time was running out. There were only so many excuses I could make to remain here, and both my parents were less and less likely to make discounts anymore.
I lived, breathed, existed on borrowed time before I had to go back to Elysia so I could be a proper crown prince for my country.
And something told me that my father was keen on abdicating as soon as I was back, which meant even less freedom for poor old me.
Or, I guess, as the man from the airport put it, rich dick me.
He was quite the sight to behold. And he didn’t seem to know who I was. Not that it was a surprise. If Europeans didn’t know what I looked like, Americans were completely oblivious, and that was exactly how I liked it.
I had suggested I study in the States, but the palace had deemed it too far, too foreign, and too dangerous, and besides, they liked me being in close proximity to Aunt Lizzy. Or Her Royal Majesty, the Queen of England as most people knew her by.
And apparently having tea with her once a week was sufficient enough for my parents to be reassured I was safe and okay.
I took my phone out and checked out my calendar—that was synced to Teagan’s, of course.
The weekend was quiet, as I liked to keep my days after a trip free of obligations, but starting Monday, I had yet another busy schedule full of meetings and official engagements.
I really didn’t hate being a crown prince. I didn’t. I loved my country, and I loved doing what I did. But sometimes I wished I could have a normal life. A life where I didn’t have to suit up every day, keep a straight face in public, and read someone else’s words in front of a microphone.
My problem was that I had become too attached to my independence over the past five years, and I knew I was on the cusp of losing it. That I’d soon have to go back to being a visible, proper prince of my country and not this version of myself that was free to go out in clubs, drink with university friends, and hookup with men in Soho bars.
I’d have to be the straight and composed future King of Elysia, and I just…
I guess I have to adjust to the idea that my time is up.
We arrived at the underground parking spot under my building in Hyde Park, got out, and then we entered the private lift that was solely for my use and rode it up to the penthouse.
Leah, Tina, and, of course, Nonny were lined up on one side, and each curtsied as I passed by them. They wore their maid uniforms, except for Nonny. As the Mistress of the Household, she didn’t need to. In fact, she didn’t need to do any housework, but she still chose to help the girls. Not that I could blame her. I only had a skeleton crew here in London that I had fought tooth and nail to keep as small as possible.
“Welcome back, Auggie,” she said, and I embraced the woman that had raised me and my siblings all my life.
“It’s good to be back, Nonny,” I told her, squeezing her back.
“How was the trip? Are you hungry?” she asked.
We walked down the corridor and came to the spacious living room with a wonderful view of Hyde Park, Buckingham Palace, and the rest of London behind it.
“Famished,” I responded.
“Great. Leah made your favorite,” she said.
My favorite being moussaka. But it was too heavy for this time of day.
“Is there anything sweet?” I asked.
Nonny smirked and she raised an eyebrow.
“You made puff-puffs?”
