Page 26 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

“Yeah, I’d really like that. Let me just get out of this dress.” I mirror her smile as I get to my feet. And it feels weird because, for the first time in my life, a lightness is spreading through me. But I should’ve known it wouldn’t last. Because the moment I step foot into my room, I receive a text from my mother.

Mom: Where are you, Maddy? I need you.

Maddison

Even a day later, I still haven’t responded to my mother’s text, not only because I’m still pissed off at her for stealing my money, but also I’m suspicious of her out-of-the-blue text. My mother is weak when it comes to a lot of things, and if Drew’s gang is threatening her to get my location, she’ll cave relatively quickly.

In a desperate attempt to seek help, I call up my aunt’s disconnected number again, which is pointless. I send her an email instead, but her email address no longer exists, either.

“What the hell, Aunt Ellie?” I grumble as I lightly bang my head on the headboard in frustration.

Sure, my aunt has always been sort of a wanderer who lives by her own rules and tries not to have any responsibilities, but this is the most off the radar she’s ever been.

I take out the necklace she gave me when I was a kid. I haven’t worn it in a while, since it’s not really my style, but holding it in my hand makes me feel closer to her. I just wish I could talk to her.

Needless to say, I barely slept last night, which is a fantastic start going into my first day of class. To try to recenter myself—and start my training—I get up when the sun is barely kissing the top of the mountains, slip on a pair of running shorts, a tank top, and sneakers, then pull my hair into a ponytail, put my earbuds in, and slip my phone carrier onto my arm. In another life, I’d have wireless ones and one of those GPS watches so that I could go sans phone. But those cost hundreds of dollars, and since I currently have about thirty dollars tucked away, that isn’t even close to within my reach. Yet, it doesn’t lessen my enjoyment of running.

I do some warmup stretches in my room before I head out, cranking up the music as I step outside. It’s chilly, but I’ll warm up quickly, so I take off, jogging down the stairs before quickening my pace as I exit through the gates and into the parking lot.

I read online that students can use the track whenever, but I want to do my first run to the bus stop so I can see how the journey will be for me when I have to go to work for my weekend shift.

My feet thud against the pavement as I run toward the exit that consists of two pillars that stretch up to a sign that glitters with the words, “Welcome to Royal Academy.” As I run under it, I get a glimpse of the massive football stadium where guys equipped with helmets in their hands and duffel bags wander in. I guess football practice starts early.

I can’t help thinking about how I accidentally went into that room the other day and how everyone made such a huge fuss about it. Even though River explained why, it’s still weird. Even stranger is that, when Lily was giving me a tour of the campus yesterday, she pointed out a lot of off-limits rooms. When I asked her about it, she merely shrugged and said, “I’m not sure why. That’s just how they were labeled on the campus map. And River and Finn warned me about them, too. I don’t think anyone knows why students can’t enter them.”

We talked about that for a while and concluded that perhaps the rooms were for teacher faculty. I don’t know, though; it all seems odd that a school campus would have so many secret rooms. Then again, it’s a massive campus, so that could be why.

My attention shifts elsewhere the farther away from campus I get. It’s so pretty up here, with the paved road lined with flourishing cherry blossoms, flowers, and trails lining the road. Not a single home is in sight, so it feels like it’s just me in this world, and after living in the congestion that is northside, I feel like I can finally breathe for a moment.

As I’m rounding a corner of the road, I slam straight into something solid. For a horrifying moment, I worry I’ve run into a car and am about to die, but as my ass hits the ground, one of my earbuds falls out, and I hear a guy curse.

“Dammit,” he grits out, sounding in pain.

I manage not to completely fall down, but my ass hurts, and so do one of my ankles.

Sitting up straight, I look in front of me and realize that the “car” I ran into is none other than the one and broody River. He has his dark hair pulled back into a small bun and is donning a pair of running shorts, a tank top, and expensive running shoes—a brand I’ve eyed from afar, dreaming of the day when I can finally afford a pair.

Crashing into him wouldn’t be so terrible, but a ways behind him is a group of runners—all guys. And all of them are eyeing us as they approach.

It’s time for me to peace out.

“Sorry about that,” I apologize as I stand, wincing as I put weight on my ankle but try to shake it off.

River stands up, rubbing his elbow as if he hit it when he fell. “Are you okay?”

“Yep, totally good.” I wince again as I move to step by him.

He stops me by placing a hand on my arm. “No, you’re not. You’re hurt.”

I’m not guy crazy, but the gentleness of his touch is unfamiliar enough that my stomach flutters ever so slightly.

Goddammit, what is wrong with me?

“I just twisted my ankle.” I move my arm away from his hand and let the flutters wither and die, just like they should. “I’ll jog it off.”

He frowns. “Are you sure? You might’ve sprained it. You should get it checked out.”

“I’ve had a sprain before,” I inform him, taking another step forward, ready to make a quick exit before his running buddies reach us. “I know it’s not that.”

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