Page 50 of Prince Un-Charming

“I get it.” Right now, it’s difficult to look at him directly.

I’m afraid that if I try, I’m going to burst out into tears and ruin this dinner. So I suck it up and keep my eyes glued to my food.

“But you’re not happy about it, I can tell.” He frowns. “Do you want to talk about this some more?”

“I thought that this was settled,” I snap. “You don’t want me to go, so that’s that. I’ll stay put.”

“Okay.”

He starts eating his food again. I try to do the same, but my stomach twists. My jaw clenches at the thought of Caesar traveling all the way back to Solvaria, finding another woman who catches his attention, and doing God knows what with her.

How can I trust that he won’t resort back to his old ways while I’m not around?

For the rest of the night, I force myself to smile and laugh at his jokes. On the inside, I’m withering away.

He’s going to leave me behind. I just know it. And there’s nothing I can do.

25

CAESAR

Iarrive at the palace happy, buzzed from memories of Vivienne. The last few weeks have been the best of my life, all because of her.

My favorite times have been the quiet evenings at her family’s home, telling stories. Like the time her father lulled to sleep during a vote on the Senate floor, or the time I hid behind a tapestry in the throne room for hours during an apparently abandoned game of hide and seek.

Somehow, she’s present everywhere, even from thousands of miles away. I want to tell her about everything or to tell her that everything here reminds me of her.

When I see Ishmael, I imagine the ways he and Vivienne might rib each other. As rough as my brothers can be, I think Vivienne would mesh more with them than I give her credit for. They might treat their distinguished, beautiful sister-in-law slightly better than her ne’er-do-well middle-child husband.

“Well, hello, big brother!” Ishmael greets me with a hug as I leave the car. “You’re looking every bit the love-struck puppy. I didn’t think there was a woman alive who could tame this foul beast!”

“You thought wrong!” I drop my jaw in faux shock and fold him into a hug. “Can you believe it?”

I roll my eyes with a smile and shove him playfully, donning my sunglasses in a futile attempt to ward off further ‘lovestruck puppy’ comments.

“Where is she, though?”

“She needs preparation before I subject her to the full fury of my feral brothers. Coming as my secretary is a little different from coming as my wife.”

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. But my brothers have a knack for detecting the slightest weakness. Once they sniff it out, it’s over. They attack and tear you to pieces. We Vanecourt boys can be a pack of jackals when we’re all together.

Ishmael chuckles. “That or you didn’t want her to see the way you are at parties.”

“Joke’s on you. She loves me at parties.” I laugh.

“That’s what she says when she’s tipsy." Ishmael raises his eyebrows dramatically. “Ask her the next day.”

I still think not bringing her was the right decision, between her absent appetite and how much fun she’s having with her family. But I feel a pang of longing and wonder what time it is there.Is it too late to call? Too early?

I stride through the red-carpeted corridors to the dressing rooms outside the banquet hall to prepare for the party in honor of Alexis’ engagement.

My tuxedo is laid out for me. Twelve-year-old Scotch graces a silver tray by the wall. It’s all perfectly arranged, measured to the millimeter. It’s beautiful, if stuffy.

Good as I am at all this bowing and traditional courtly behavior, it never fails to strike me as a stale anachronism.

These self-important rituals are a perfect symbol for why I didn’t bring Vivienne. I don’t want to expose her to all this. She’ll be in my life for the long haul, and she deserves to become a part of it at a slower pace.

We got married so quickly to begin with. We can take our time for her to have to face all of the stress of being an active member of royalty.

---