Page 64 of Prince of the Palisades

“It’s not that bad,” I insist. “We just kissed. On a crowded street. And people saw. What’s the big deal?”

Papa hisses, “Ça suffit!”

My mouth clicks shut.That’s enough. Two words. A month and a half without any communication, not a single phone call from him, and that’s the first thing he says to me. Heat fills my chest.

“Son,” Mom attempts, softer, but still as serious. “The photos are everywhere. It’s a distraction. No one thinks you’re taking this seriously. You’re a representative of the crown. Of our people.”

“So what I did is a bad look for Réverie?” My jaw tightens. “Sorry being seventeen and gay and kissing a boy I like—”

“You’re aprince,” Papa interrupts. “Of royal blood. You’remeant to represent our country at the highest level. Maintain a scandal-free reputation. That’s what you said you’d be doing in America.”

“I am,” I attempt.

“Yet,” Papa continues, “every time we turn around, there you are! Rebel Royal. Once again, the center of drama.”

It’s hard not to flinch when he says it.Rebel Royal. But the sting is so sharp. The cut, so deep. My eyes mist, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop anything from falling.

“You’re there for a reason, remember?” Papa asks.

I nod stiffly.

“Is this the kind of prince you want to be? Is this how you want Réverie to see you? As a joke?”

“I want—” My voice cracks. I try again. “I want to show them I’m better.”

“Better than what?” Papa challenges.

Than Prime Minister Barnard, I think to say.Than people like him who see my mom, my sister, me, as lesser. Unworthy. Better than the son you think I am. Better than whoIthink I am.

“I’ll work harder,” I get out.

“Your chances are running out,” Papa warns.

“Simon,” Mom whispers, squeezing his forearm. Her eyes flick to me. “Son, we want the best for you. I’m happy you met someone, but—the press is going to be watching you even closer now. Him too.”

“He won’t be a problem,” I say.

Mom’s forehead creases, concerned. Samuel clears histhroat before she can ask me any questions. “Pardon me, Your Majesties, but I may have a solution.”

My head snaps in his direction. What’s he doing? I didn’t tell him about my arrangement with Reiss, and we never discussed an alternate plan.

He smiles congenially. “Recently, I was contacted by a dear friend of the royal family. He can help redirect the media’s focus. Show the world that, no matter what past difficulties have occurred, our prince is determined to maintain strong bonds with his people.”

“He?” Mom says.

The front door chimes. I twist around, working through Samuel’s words.

Who is he talking about?

Then, I hear a familiar voice speaking with Ajani in the foyer. A ghost I’ve been running from walks into the room. Tall, deep brown skin, perfectly square jaw and white teeth, a wide smile I know way too intimately.

“Your Majesties.” After bowing, his sharp eyes fall on me. “Bonjour, mon beau.”

Léon. Standing five feet from me in the living room. In fucking America.

12

THE HEARTBREAK HEARTTHROB

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