Page 19 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

She bobs her head up and down. “Yep. River, River’s twin, Finn, and then I have a stepbrother, Noah, who’s the same age as my brothers.”

“Seriously?” I ask, and she nods. “And you’re only a year younger than your brothers?”

She nods again and shifts her weight. “Things were kind of crazy when we were younger. I felt bad for our nanny.”

I was my own nanny growing up, but I’m not about to share that with her.

“I bet.” As the weight of my bags begins to cause my shoulder to ache, I shift my weight. “So, what’s this about an orientation?”

“It’s a thing we’re required to go to. Basically, from what I understand, it’ll be an hour of listening to the dean yammer about how amazing this academic year will be and the standards we’re supposed to uphold. She’ll also give information on clubs and sports.”

“Really?” I perk up at that.

“Are you interested in something?”

“Cross-country and track. I had a scholarship to the Royal City Community College.” I pause, debating whether to tell her I lost that, but then decide against it. She seems nice enough and everything, but I barely know her. And I have trust issues—I’ve known that for a while. “But then I got the scholarship here, and this is a way better school.”

“Is it?” she mumbles then puts a smile back on her face. “Well, you’re in luck because we have one of the best coaches in the country. River was actually on the team last year. He’s been running since he was a kid.” An odd look crosses her face, almost as if the memory makes her sad, but why? “But, anyway, River’s on the cross country and track teams, and Finn is the quarterback for the football team. Sports here are highly competitive, but maybe I could ask one of them to give you some pointers.”

“Maybe.” I pause. “I think I should probably ask Finn, though.”

Her head angles to the side. “Have you met him?”

I nod. “And he seems nicer than River. No offense. I know he’s your brother.”

“River’s intense, I know. And I get that he can be an asshole, but he has it rough.” She pulls a whoops face, as if she didn’t mean to say that aloud. “But, if you can become his friend, he’s a ride-or-die kind of person.”

A ride-or-die kind of person, huh? Doesn’t seem like he is, but what the heck do I know? I barely have any friends.

“Okay, I’ll try to see past the assholery,” I assure, but deep down, I doubt I’ll be able to.

She smiles. “Awesome … If you want to get ready for orientation, we can walk there together, if you want.”

“Sounds good.” I make my way over to the door that leads to my bedroom, half my mind on the idea of asking River for help and the other half stuck on what I overheard about the attire requirement for this orientation thing. Should I change? Do I even own anything nice?

My thoughts laugh at me. What am I going to wear? My nice pair of jeans?

“Holy crap,” I whisper at the sight of probably the nicest room I’ve ever stepped foot in.

As soon as my foot steps into my new room, all my attention gets locked in on the space before me—purple and black wallpaper, a crystal chandelier, a four-poster bed decorated with an amount of velvety pillows no one in the world would ever need. The floor is partially covered with a rug, a dresser in the corner, and a fireplace is on the farthest wall. It also has a closet and bathroom.

I let my bags fall to the floor with a thump as I enter further and turn in a circle, taking everything in—the photos on the wall, the crown painted on the arched ceiling, and the window with a view of the land, forest, paths, and statues, along with a massive, shiny domed stadium where the track is slightly visible.

I exhale a breath as I stare out at it. I always dreamed of running on the track team in college. I just need to make the team. I’ll admit I looked up PR times for last year, and I have my work cut out of me.

I might end up getting desperate enough to ask for River’s help. Whether he will or not is an entirely different story. Plus, could he even help me that much? He did have trophies in that box, but still …

I dig out my phone and pull up the PR list online. Then I search for his name, and my jaw nearly bitch-slaps the floor.

Yep, he could help me. At least he’s fast enough that he probably has some pointers.

“Good God, that’s fast.” I stare at his records for a while before pocketing my phone. Then I head to my bags so I can unpack.

Ten minutes later, I have everything put away, and it’s clear the closet has too much space for my stuff. Still, I feel this weird sensation in my chest, almost as if I could be happy, maybe, just maybe. Then my phone buzzes, and I’m reminded that while I might have temporarily left northside, that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been part of me for my entire life.

Hannah: Hey, babe. I’m still on the road trip, but Will heard a rumor that Drew is looking for you and that there’s a whisper put out on you. Please tell me you’re okay.

I grit my teeth as I read the text. A whisper is a discreet word northside uses to let everyone know a bounty has been put on someone. It doesn’t necessarily mean they’re going to kill me, but it won’t be pretty if they catch me. In fact, I know what they will do—they’ll beat me up then probably make me either sell drugs or whore myself out to pay for what my father’s done.

---