Page 10 of Prince Un-Charming

I know how intoxicating a man like Caesar can be. Even after watching him throw women away, I get lost in thoughts about what it would be like. No. I can’t afford it. Not now.

Pulling myself up from the floor, I head to my own soothing bath and dip my fingers in the water in the tub. It’s ice cold.

My relaxing evening was a wash. I may as well sleep. I brush my teeth, turn off the lights, draw the curtains, and crawl into bed.

What an awful end to an awful day.

5

CAESAR

I’ve got to get out of here. Striding from my father’s wing, which is overrun with people running around in a frenzy, I walk past the assistant to Haverty, the King’s Steward, and I retrieve my coat from the cloakroom.

I hear the assistant say something into his earpiece. The Steward will be along shortly.

“May I call a car for you, sir?” Haverty asks.

“Hey, Haverty. I’m just going out for some air. I’ll take the Benz.”

My father’s steward is sharp as a tack and handles complex chaos with the best of them. At times like these, there might be less pressure on all of us if his family ran the country instead of mine.

The car pulls up to the side entrance before I can open the door myself.Good old Haverty.I slide into the driver’s seat and settle in, dialing Marcus before starting the vehicle.

The phone rings on the speaker as I speed down the driveway and out through the mile-long tunnel of trees surrounding the palace.

“Caesar,” Marcus greets me. “Where are we going tonight?” Marcus is always my willing partner in revelry.

“Gray’s,” I say shortly.

“Really? Gray’s? Seems a little… sedate. I was expecting something a little more raucous.”

“I need a subdued evening. I’m not sure if you heard the news.”

“Hey, come to Shira’s instead. I have a party you can get lost in.” That’s usually our favorite hangout, a loud, energetic nightclub downtown.

“Great. See you there soon.” I swerve into the next lane to turn around.

Maybe at Shira’s I can forget everything my father said.

“Marriage. Just, why?” I say into the steering wheel. There are a lot of questions bouncing in my head right now, but that’s what it all comes down to. Of all the things my father thinks will be good for me and the Kingdom, why a wife?

It’s not that I have anything against marriage, in theory at least. I’ve seen plenty of people I care about settle down in healthy, happy marriages. I always planned to settle down someday, like most people. Just not yet.

Why not give me more responsibility on the diplomatic front if he wants me to be serious? For that matter, why not just have me tone down the partying instead of rushing into a commitment?

I agonize over it all the way to Shira’s. My father has always been the enigmatic type, but I’ve never seriously questioned his choices. I don’t want to question him now, either, but I need clarity.

Once in the club, I search the faces for Marcus and come up empty. I recognize everyone. Threading my way through the crowd on the dance floor proves difficult. I shift my weight to squeeze around them and make my way to the bar.

Gray’s, with its hole-in-the-wall pub atmosphere, would probably be a better place for this conversation. Shira’s never fails to lift my spirits, though.

“Hey, Caesar.” A gorgeous redhead slinks her way toward me and takes my arm, one of the hostesses who works at the club. “Here for business or pleasure?”

“Business, all business, all the time these days. Have you seen Marcus?” Any other night, I might entertain this line of conversation, but I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now until I’ve talked to Marcus.

I don’t want to get drunk and wind up spilling about my father’s demand with some random stranger. I’ve already shared enough with strangers apparently, according to my dad.

She lets go of my arm, uninterested in playing if I won’t be any fun. “I think he stepped out.”

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