Page 123 of Prince Charmless
“Taylor.”
I hold my breath as she crosses the room.
“I get it.”
She takes my lapels and I let her pull me. Our lips collide like, I don’t know, things that collide, like two fridge magnets being put together. How long has it been? Three days? Three centuries? I try to calculate it as we make up for lost time. Her caresses are of varying lengths, erratic and unplanned. I push forward to give us what we’ve been waiting for. Everything about this woman is so warm and familiar, like a morning cup of coffee. After a short breath, she’s quick to match my intensity. It seems she finds me just as comfortable, and we savor every last bit before breaking apart. If she’ll let me, I’ll never leave again.
Melina leans her head on me, and I rest my chin on her. I tell myself to remember every part of this moment. I’ll remember the dust floating in the air. I’ll remember the light from the window shining on the oriental rug. For once, it’s an obnoxiously sunny day in St. Claire. I’ll remember that too.
“I’m never going to be done thinking,” she says with glassy eyes. “I wish I could just turn this stupid brain off.”
When I palm her cheek, I notice my ring and its engraving. My family’s crest, House of Rengault, is better known to the public as the image on their passports and driver’s licenses. My dad has an identical ring that he wore for a while. I used to think it was cool as a kid because of the phoenix. Honestly, I still think it’s cool because of the phoenix. I pull it off my finger. Maybe I should finally do the thinking for a change.
“I got it on my eighteenth birthday for my investiture,” I tell her. “It’s the age where they trust you to become the sovereign if you have to, which is insane because which teenager knows how to run a monarchy, let alone their own life? The investiture was the first one in St. Claire to be televised. It used to be a private affair, but my dad wanted to democratize the event. He was eager to throw me into the deep end with the whole public speaking thing. The only way you can learn is by practicing, much to my chagrin. He actually had me write some of the speech myself. Mom made me get a haircut and contacts so I seemed less awkward teen and more prince charming. I may have looked the part, but I was a nervous, stuttery wreck through all of it. Better yet, the speech was delivered in both English and French, which really maximized the number of people I could be an embarrassment to. Not exactly the image of stability people wanted from the throne. Tom sends me the video every year on my birthday because he knows how much I hate it.”
In the middle of my incoherent rambling, I realize Melina is wide-eyed and staring at the ring in my hand.
Shit.
“I’m not asking you to marry me.”
She lets out a breath.
I take her hand and place the ring in her palm. “I get that our marriage would mean a lot more than just changing how your taxes are filed, and I would never want to pressure you into doing something you’re not ready for.” I curl her fingers aroundthe metal. “But if the world allowed me to complain just once, I would say that I think God has played a sick joke on me, putting an introvert in this position. Princing has never come naturally to me like it has for my father or Tom. It drains me to not be miserable and pessimistic. My honest self isn’t going to be good enough for all the citizens of St. Claire, but do you understand how good it feels knowing it can be for just one?”
She sniffles. “Taylor.”
“Every once in a while, you look at me in a certain way or laugh at something I said. It’s never been this effortless. I’m supposed to be the luckiest man in the world, but I’ve never felt it until a few months ago.” I run my thumb over her knuckles. “This marks the cringiest moment of my life, but somehow, I figured it out. Honestly, to exist is to learn and be embarrassed, right? So if you can get over that, you can get over anything.”
“Even if you’re really shit at first,” she finishes.
“Even if you’re really shit at first. The ring is in case your silly tattoo isn’t proof enough.”
Her eyelashes flutter as she tries to blink away the tears. One slips through and wets her cheek. I swipe it aside with my thumb.
“You are the life I want to live.” I lean in close because I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire existence. “But you’ll be the one who has the ring. If there comes a day when you want to give it to me, I’ll do everything I can to help you feel like you know what you’re doing, even if I don’t most of the time.”
She rubs the gold between her fingers. “What if I’m never ready? What if I decide I don’t want this? It’s going to take me a while to warm up to the job, Taylor.”
“I don’t care. Every second, every moment I get to spend with you will be worth it.” Curling some hair behind her ear, I say, “Don’t worry about me, Melina, I don’t deserve it. Just promiseyou’ll never think you aren’t good enough. Because if you aren’t, well—” I sigh. “Then this whole monarchy thing must be a total sham.”
“You’re not a sham, Taylor.” She lays her head against me again.
“Yeah. I’ll try not to be,” I say, stroking her hair. “Maybe my position is less shadow on the cave wall and more—” I pause to think of the right words.
“Birthday party princess?” she offers to my chest.
I look down at her and snicker. “What?”
“Like, maybe the magic is played up, but you try to do good for kids.” Her grip creeps down my arms. “And family.” She takes my hands. “And me.”
“And birds.”
“Birds?” She stands straight.
“The gold-breasted finch. They’re endangered. Maybe I should start flying commercial.”
Melina tilts her head back and cackles.
