Page 11 of Will You (Not) Marry Me

After eating and showering, and feeling just the tiniest bit more human, Eva flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She felt like she was trapped in a tidal pool, being tugged this way and that. Half of her was glum and numb, not knowing how she’d ever find the energy to stand back up, let alone fake a smile and make conversation with the Eschenberg royals tomorrow. The other half was buzzing, her thoughts unstoppable as she analyzed every word, every gesture, from everyone that had been in that room.

She should be back in New York right now with Abbie, spending her Saturday night barhopping into the early hours. They’d done it for years—not to get drunk, but just to be out in the real world, away from their photographs and canvases for a while, to eavesdrop on conversations from people with more conventional lifestyles. The only thing that spoiled their fun when they went out was the random guys hitting on them, which was fine, fair enough; it was a bar, after all… but it was when they couldn’t take no for an answer that things got tedious at best and scary at worst.

Eva flipped over onto her stomach, smothering a laugh into the bed. She and Abbie had come up with a solution, which they’d dubbed “banshee mode.” They’d simply look at each other, knowing that they needed to get rid of the current idiot, and instantly become the worst versions of themselves. They’d shriek and laugh as loudly and as shrill as possible. They’d sit in the worst posture possible, giving themselves back aches in the process, and chew bar snacks with their mouths open. They’d be as irritating as they could, and it always did the trick.

Most times the bartenders cottoned on to what was happening and enjoyed the show. Sometimes, if they did a particularly entertaining job of chasing off the man in question, they’d even get a free drink or two.

Eva flipped back over and sat upright like a bolt of electricity had shot through her spine. This was just the same sort of situation as the bar, wasn’t it? She couldn’t just say no, because if she pulled out of the engagement, she’d be the one with all the consequences heaped onto her shoulders. Whether it was fair or not, that was the reality she was stuck in. But there was nothing saying she couldn’t getFinnto pull out of the marriage. If he called it off, then she’d be free; the papers wouldn’t be able to blame her for any of it, and neither could her family orhisfamily.

She’d actually figured a way out of this mess. All Eva would have to do is go into banshee mode and be the worst possible version of herself around him. She’d chased off a thousand men before, and she could do it again.

Feeling giddy with hope, she flung herself off the bed and grabbed her phone to start hatching a plan.

CHAPTER5

EVA

Abbie, being the evil genius that she was, had texted Eva a bunch of ideas on how to be as irritating and grating a person as possible so that Finn would cancel the engagement all on his own. Knowing that if she pulled this off, she’d have a way out of this stupid marriage, Eva had at last been able to sleep that night. It was still in fits and starts, interrupted by bouts of panic about the future. But it was enough to get her through till morning without feeling like a complete zombie.

Still, at seven a.m. she woke up groggy and aching after all the plane trips, forcing herself to get ready for the day. She was desperate to hurtle head first into Operation Worst Wife and dress like she would back in New York: ratty jeans, paint-splattered boots and all. She wanted nothing more than to slather her face in her most aggressively messy makeup and not brush her hair at all. But Abbie’s words from the night before pulled her back a little bit.

You gotta work smarter, not harder,she’d typed, almost faster than Eva could read, the screen of her phone lighting up every few seconds as Abbie typed away furiously from the other side of the world.

If anyone else figures out what’s going on, it’ll all end up on you anyways.

Gotta make it seem like it’s completely his idea. And that to everyone else, you’re some sweet, perfect angel. Good luck with that…

Eva had typed back,Ha ha, very funny.

But Abbie was right. If this was going to work, then she couldn’t let anyone else see her being a terrible person. Just Finn. It had to look like he was the unreasonable one, with everyone else left shaking their heads wondering what had happened. Then Eva could happily skip off into the sunset and go back to her normal life, pretending that this had all been some bad—if slightly bizarre—dream.

So with a sigh and longing for a pair of jeans and a hoodie, Eva put on her pinstripe pantsuit, combed her hair off her face and allowed herself the slightest hint of dark eyeliner. Both families were scheduled to have brunch together—because nothing happened in a royal household without it being scheduled first. It would be her first opportunity to lay down some very irritating seeds.

* * *

Even now, entering the enormous parlor where brunch was taking place, Eva’s phone would give an occasional silent buzz from her pocket as Abbie sent through more suggestions. It made Eva feel just that little bit better about this whole mess, knowing that even on the other side of the worldsomeonehad her back. If she didn’t have the promise of this plan to get her out of this, she might have very well sunk right through the floor in dread.

She was the second to last to arrive despite being on time, and already Eva felt like everyone was conspiring against her, talking and preparing to shepherd her in the desired direction behind her back. The only other person who hadn’t arrived yet was her supposed husband-to-be. The two sets of parents were looking very pleased with themselves and about as subtle as a brick thrown through a windowpane. Eva would have made herself shrug the feeling off as paranoia, but when Magnus gave her a subtle grimace of apology, her suspicions were confirmed. She gave him the filthiest, fastest scowl she could manage so he knew her feelings on the matter before she slipped back into her princess mask, like a well-worn pair of shoes.

“Your Majesties,” she said with a polite smile to the king and queen of Eschenberg, dipping down into a small curtsey which, as much as she hated to admit it, did feel awkward in a pantsuit rather than a dress. Eva just committed and pretended like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Trousers again,” said Queen Clara, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. “You’re a very modern young lady.”

Eva smiled graciously at the compliment. The queen might have been bemused, but she seemed genuine enough. Eva pointedly ignored her mother’s twitching eyebrow at her attire.

“It’s a new era, ma’am,” said Eva.

“Indeed. Well, isn’t that what we need now and again, a breath of fresh air?” she said, turning to her husband, who nodded, smiling, agreeing with his wife. Eva’s eyes grazed over the king’s knuckles gripping firmly onto his cane, up to the spasm in his jaw which he couldn’t seem to control. Her heart sank for the man. They’d all heard rumors that he wasn’t doing well, but they were the sort of rumors you didn’t want confirmed. No wonder they were trying to make this marriage work, to set Finn up for success with a good respectable wife.

The rumors of abdication were probably true as well.

Eva stomped out those thoughts swiftly and violently. She wasn’t going to feel pity. Not for the king, who wouldn’t want it, and certainly not for the rest of them here, who were gleefully pulling strings like she was a puppet. Not when Magnus was the only one who had any pity for her, and she really would have to talk to him at some point and tell him that she didn’t hate him. At least this mess seemed to have finally taught him that actions have consequences.

Before Eva could get too caught up in her own thoughts, the door opened again and in walked Finn. He didn’t seem surprised to be the last to arrive, and Eva wondered if he was just really, really good at burying any confusion or if he actually had a hand in all of this nonsense. At least he was nice to look at, as shallow as that was; she had to take the silver linings where she could find them.

“Good morning,” he said, bemused, and gave a small bow to the senior royals. “Did I get my times mixed up?”

So they were scheming against him, too. God forbid anyone was allowed to have an honest conversation around here. No wonder Eva was having to go to such extreme lengths.

---