Page 67 of The Problem with Princes
Ty grabs my hand, holding it tightly. “I asked her to come. She’s leaving in the morning, and I don’t want to miss out on any of our time because you feel this conversation can’t wait. Unless it concerns national security, she’s staying with me.”
The king’s jaw works, and he scowls at his son. “It is more for her comfort we are worried. But if that does not concern you, Son, then let’s carry on.” He motions us forward. “Please, sit down.”
Ty helps me sit down on the couch opposite his parents and then lowers himself next to me, keeping my hand in his. “What can’t wait, Mother?”
The queen throws a newspaper on the table in front of us. It is the Kaysariyyah Post. I don’t have a chance to read the headline as my eyes are immediately drawn to the picture on the front. It’s Ty and me. I recognize my board shorts and rash guard shirt. Well, and my red hair. We’re standing in the water, and his head is lowered as he kisses me.
I suck in a breath and my pulse quickens. Dread fills my stomach.Holy Peter, Paul, and Mary. This isn’t good. “I thought you said that beach was private,” I hiss to him.
Tyrone swears in Greek. “How did they get this picture? We were on our beach.”
“From the angle, I would guess they were in a boat. With a telephoto lens, they needn’t have been close,” Sander says from the other side of the room. I hadn’t even realized he was here.
I pull my hand from Tyrone’s, putting it around my stomach. How had this happened? I finally glance at the headline and the tears form in the corners of my eyes.Prince Tyrone: Back to his playboy ways?
But that isn’t the worst of it. My name is printed under the picture. How did they get my name? I wonder if it was the chatty desk clerk from the hotel. I clench my hand at my side. If not for my name, there is a chance no one would realize it was me. The angle gives a better view of Ty’s face. But there is little denying with my name attached.
I shoot to my feet and move to the windows. I don’t even know what to think. I walk back toward the table and eye the paper.Playboy ways. I had thought that might be possible a few days ago. But I just can’t believe it now. The look on his face when we were at the top of the climbing wall? That was real. I know it was.
But I realize my main concern isn’t if he really likes me. I know he does. What is most concerning is that we thought we were alone and still someone violated that privacy. And that’s the thing. It will always be like this being with him. He’s a prince, for pity sake. I keep telling myself that, but I don’t think I really understood what that means until now.
Then another thought pushes the other aside. Will this reach America? I grunt to myself. Of course, it will. It was surely all over the internet by now. I lift a hand to my brow, rubbing at the headache forming behind my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter where the pictures come from, Tyrone.” The king growls. “We’ve talked about this. About how important it is for you to stop with the games and get serious about your responsibilities to this country.”
Tyrone explodes off the couch. “This is not what it looks like, Father. This isn’t a game.”
His father shakes his head. “It never is, Tyrone.”
Ty glares at both of his parents. He runs a hand through his hair as he walks over to me by the window. “Grace—” He reaches out for my hand, but I shrug away from him, unable to stand the thought of someone taking his comforting gesture and twisting it into something sordid.
He pulls back. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You’re a prince. I should have realized this was possible. Probable, even. It was naive of me to have thought differently.” I try to smile, but it won’t come. I look up into his eyes to see my misery and devastation mirrored.
“ButIdid know the risks and I ignored them. This is my fault, Grace, not yours.”
My phone buzzes and I am grateful for the distraction. I pull it from my pocket and stare down at the words on the screen.
Texie:You kissed him and didn’t tell me! I expect a detailed report when you get home. She followed it with three kissing lips emojis.
A picture comes up next. It’s a photo from the Washington Herald. The headline is the same as it is in Atraxia. “Yay, we made the Herald,” I say in a weak voice.
Ty must have been eyes-dropping on my text because he swears again.
“Cursing is not helping anything. I thought we discussed this before you left to show Miss Martindale around Atraxia. Did you not promise not to trifle with her?” The queen stands up and gives me a sympathetic look. This is why they didn’t want me here.
“I’m not trifling with her.” He glowers at his mother. “I really like her. And if she could, I’d have her stay here so we could continue to date.”
“Yes, about that,” the king flips the paper over. “We know about your plans to go to Washington. And under the circumstances, we cannot allow it.”
“What? But why? Won’t going to Washington with her just prove she isn’t a fling.”
“No. Flings don’t only have to last a weekend, Tyrone. It will just add more fuel to the fire. I’m afraid Miss Martindale will return to the US by herself.” The king stands, looking out over the courtyard.
“We’ve taken the liberty of changing her flight. She departs in three hours.” The queen gives me one last sympathetic smile. “It was lovely meeting you, Miss Martindale. I wish you did not have to leave us under such trying circumstances.”
My breath comes out jerky and shallow. “I should probably get packed, then.”
