Page 76 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” he insists. When I say nothing and instead move to swipe the key card across the scanner, he places a hand on my arm, stopping me. I glance up at him, confused, and he leans in closer. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” he repeats quietly while carrying my gaze. “It’s just not familiar to me. And honestly, it makes me feel sad for you.”

A drop of anger rises inside me. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity. I don’t think it’s fair that you have to deal with some of the stuff you’ve told me about, like this Drew thing. Though, you haven’t told me everything about what’s going on with that.” He leaves the silent question hanging in the air.

I won’t tell him about my father being in jail for dealing drugs and how he narced on a drug lord, and that’s why I got chased the other day. He can barely handle hearing me talk about never being in a bathtub.

“I’m fine. My life isn’t perfect or anything, but I’m here at this place, which means I have a chance for a better future than if I’d been stuck in northside.” I smile at him. “I’m fine. I promise. Better than fine.” I push open the door. “And thanks for making my legs feel like they’ve become possessed by evil devils.” I smirk at him as I start to close the door.

He shakes his head, but a smile plays on his lips. “Take a cold shower.” He points a finger at me as he walks away. “I mean it, Mads. It may not be comfortable, but trust me; it’ll be worth it later on.”

I give him a thumbs-up, ignoring the flutter in my heart that his smile elicits. Then I close the door and exhale loudly. Damn Royal and his pretty smiles are making my heart act like a total dumbass.

Pushing away from the door, I head into my room, scrunching my nose when I get a whiff of how badly I smell. Ugh, I need better deodorant and perfume.

What I need is a damn job, because after the incident with Drew, I had to quit my job at the café. It was too risky, especially with my mother knowing I worked there. As soon as I’m done with my shower, I’ll continue the search for one.

I grab a pair of baggy jeans, a gray top, a pair of underwear, and a bra before wandering into the bathroom attached to my room. I’ll never get over having my own. And a huge one, for that matter.

The shower is separate from the bathtub and has two showerheads and a marble floor.

I set my clothes down onto the counter then lean in and turn on the shower, cranking the knob to cold. Then I strip my clothes off, my eyes wandering to the bathtub.

“It’s not that weird that I’ve never taken a bath before,” I mutter to myself, but the words feel like a lie.

Sure, when I lived in the northside, it wasn’t weird. But in the glittering wealth, where everyone has everything, it’s more than likely just another trait that makes me out of place.

“Okay, next time, I’ll take River up on getting ice for an ice bath,” I tell myself as I turn away from the bathtub. Then, mustering up enough courage, I step underneath the cold water.

“Gah!” I squeal as I start to chatter against the cold water spraying over my muscles.

I struggle to stay underneath it, wondering how long I have to stay in this torturous madness. I last about five minutes with me frantically washing my body off before practically jumping out of it.

As I wrap myself in a towel, my teeth clanking together, I send River a message.

Me: Dude, what the hell kind of advice was that? I feel like I just died from hypothermia.

He doesn’t reply right away, so I start to get dressed. And I’m just pulling on my shirt when my phone buzzes.

Figuring it’s River, I pick it up. But then my stomach plummets.

Mom: Maddy, if you don’t turn yourself over to Drew, he’ll find you. So, please, do yourself a favor and just do what he wants. It’ll be over more quickly if you cooperate.

I reread the text a few times. I shouldn’t be shocked or hurt—this is my mother, after all. But the truth is, even after eighteen years of her selfishness, my chest still aches at her words.

It also makes me wonder if perhaps Drew is putting her up to this. Is she making a trade? Her freedom for mine?

River

Iknow I shouldn’t be thinking about her—I know this—and yet I can’t stop. Maddy has this way about her, one where she can draw you in with a simple smile. Then again, her smile definitely isn’t simple. It’s gorgeous—she’s gorgeous.

“Goddammit, River, stop obsessing,” I mumble as I dump more ice into the bathtub.

I’ve never obsessed over anyone like this before, and for a good reason. Liking someone will only lead to heartache because, in the end, I can’t ever be with her.

The ice lands with a clink inside the large porcelain tub that’s in my en suite bathroom. My phone is on the counter, buzzing, announcing I’ve received a message. I want to check it, but I need to get into this tub before I psych myself out. So, sucking in a huge breath, I climb into the bathtub full of ice water. I feel like the air has been ripped from my lungs, but I latch on, rapidly breathing in and out until it’s been long enough. Then I hop out, nearly eating shit as I do. Thankfully, I stop myself from landing on my ass, grab a towel, and wrap it around my waist. Then I walk over to the counter to collect my phone, teeth clattering together as shivers roll through my body. When I note who texted me, I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my lips.

Maddy: Dude, what the hell kind of advice was that? I feel like I just died from hypothermia.

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