Page 1 of Prince of the Palisades

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A ROYAL RUNAWAY?

Since his viral incident last weekend, insiders report Prince Jadon has gone MIA. Earlier today, Crown Princess Annika was snapped arriving at LAX with a small entourage. Has she come to stop the prince’s royal rampage?

Never believe the headlines.

It’s Royal Etiquette 101. Almost everything you read online or see on the news is dramatized for viewership. “Facts” is a loose term in the world of celebrity journalism. A lesson I learned while teething. And yet here I am, literal seconds from tossing my phone into the Pacific Ocean after watching the latest clip of everyone’s favorite soul-devouring, trash-eating bad-take journalist, Kip Davies.

“The video istreasonous,” he says in his condescending British accent. “Drugs, underage drinking, foul language. How is anyone supposed to respect him?”

He flashes a hyper-white smile all over BBC News. I bite sohard on the inside of my cheek I nearly draw blood.

A few vital details Kip left out:

One, those werePez candies, not drugs. My best friend—correction: former best friend—Kofi is obsessed with them. I brought some as a gag gift.

Two, I wasn’tthatdrunk. I only had two shots of the vile peppermint vodka the club was serving. We were celebrating Kofi’s birthday. He’s the one who suggested we come to LA. Who kept inviting total strangers into our roped-off VIP section.

Three, I did what any other pissed-off teen would after a long week of stress and arguments and overhearing conversations he shouldn’t have: got caught on camera sharing his most private thoughts. It’s ridiculous. No one filmed Kofi doing body shots off some hot young influencer’s abs. Just me ranting about that asshole Barnard.

I don’t regret what I said. It felt good to finally exhaust the fire raging in my chest. I’m more annoyed that it’s everywhere. That people like Kip Davies won’t stop talking about it.

“Prince Jadon,” he continues, “is a trulyawfulrepresentation of the Crown.” He smirks pretentiously. Like he has something to be proud of.

Congratulations, you ruined a teen’s reputation.

Still, his words echo next to the ones Papa said to me two days ago over a video call:

Is this who you are now? A rebel? A walking headline? Do you care how this makes our country look? Our family? What’s the cause of all this?

My first mistake was not answering him. The second waslooking at my mom. Watching the frustration bloom across her face, as if this is completely my fault. She has no idea what I heard inside the palace. The foul things that spilled from Barnard’s mouth.

They don’t belong here.

I don’t want to tell her—or anyone—what he said. Would they believe me if I did? Now that this video is out?

Kip’s voice startles my attention back to my phone. “Are we really blaming the prince’s failed relationship with Lé—”

“Nope,” I say, swiping to another video before he can finish. I don’t want to hear my ex’s name. See his face. Relive the way our last conversation ended. Our breakup has nothing to do with why I’m officiallystuckin California.

As the next clip loads, I think back to Papa’s final words:

D’accord! Since you can’t explain yourself. Since you love making a mess of your legacy. Stay in America! You’re banned from returning home until you prove you’re the kind of prince Réverie deserves.

“Hot take, but—”

My eyes snap to the new video playing.

Five American cohosts sit around a glass table. A thirtysomething woman with warm, reddish-brown skin and a silver stud in her left nostril is talking: “He’sseventeen. He’s made mistakes. What does Réverie—the world, for that matter—expect from him?”

A lot, apparently, I want to tell her.

A hand blurs across my vision, snatching my phone away. My sister, Annika, glares at me. “Ça suffit!”That’s enough. We only use French with each other when we’re annoyed.

I offer her a weak, apologetic grin.

In the background, attendants rush around with luggage. The house we’re staying in is a gated three-story modern architectural jewel set in the hills of Pacific Palisades. Seven bedrooms, ten bathrooms, a heated pool, and a bunch of other amenities I can’t remember. Hardly as lavish as Centauri Palace, but I don’t have much room to complain. It was rented on short notice.

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