Page 60 of Prince of the Palisades

Samuel startles at the bite in my voice. “No, Your Highness. Because they adored and admired you and Léon together. The perfect homegrown, noble romance.”

I scoff. Perfect romances don’t end out of nowhere. They don’t crash and burn like we did after the breakup.

“But isn’t Jadon courting”—when my eyes flash at Annika, she corrects—“being seen in a possibly romantic waygood for his reputation too? It shows an approachable, kind side of him. Not surly and moody—”

“We get the point, Anni,” I groan.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Samuel agrees, “But we wantRéverieto love and respect him again. To see him as the royal figure he is.”

He clears his throat, clearly nervous about his next words. “Reiss isn’t royalty. He’s…just a boy.”

“He isn’t,” I say through my teeth.

Samuel bows. “Deepest apologies, Your Highness. It’s your decision on how to move forward. But if you choose to continue this romance publicly, then I fear we won’t win the war we’re fighting.”

My fingers curl to fists on the island. It’sourwar, yet I’m the one on the front line. The one taking all the casualties.

I know it’s not fair to think that way. They’re all trying tohelp. But I’m exhausted. My entire life, someone’s made decisions for me. Where I’m going, how long I stay, what to wear, and when to speak and when to listen.

Nothing is ever fully in my control. But I’m not giving them this.

Thisisn’t just about me. It’s about Reiss too.

“I need time to think,” I tell them.

Samuel bows again. Annika hugs her knees to her chest, looking like the little girl I remember who hated wearing heels. Whose royal suite was always a mess, no matter how many times the staff cleaned it.

She gives me a small smile. “I’m here if you need me.”

I mouth,I know, nodding. Then, I walk away.

I hide away in my bedroom the rest of the day. I lie in the bed that still doesn’t feel like mine. I leave my phone untouched. The only notifications coming through are media alerts, probably more nonsense from Kip Davies and his lackies. I consider calling Mom, but I know where that conversation will lead, the questions she’ll ask.

She’ll be the queen when all I want is my mom.

You’re a prince. It’s not about what youwant. It’s about what our countryneeds.

That’s what she’ll say.

What Papa says when I fuck up. Which is constantly, apparently.

“It was one kiss,” I whisper to the ugly ceiling fixture. But it’s never just one, is it? Life is a row of dominos, one falling into the next, everything moving so rapidly, beyond your control, until every piece crashes to the ground.

The only glimmer of hope is thatyouget to decide what the pattern looks like when it’s finished.

So that’s what I do. I make the decision.

I snatch up my phone. For an hour, I research, then make a call, ignoring Ajani’s suspicious stare when I ask about credit card information. After it’s coordinated and paid for, the woman on the other end asks what name to sign the card with.

I grin. “His Royal Arrogance.”

The first message lights up my phone at 7:22 p.m.

did you do this?!?!

The next message is a video attachment. The camera angle opens from behind The Hopper’s front counter, panning over Dominic’s giggling face before zooming in on the four people in old-school pin-striped vests and hats. Leave it to Reiss to turn this moment into a cinematic masterpiece.

Through my phone’s speaker comes a tinny harmony. The singing quartet is serenading “Happy Birthday” to Reiss. It’s a short clip that ends with a familiar laugh.

---