Page 98 of The Princess Trap
Magz: I hope Dad doesn’t bite his head off.
Magz: But, all things considered, I think he might.
Because the video they’d recorded in icy terror had turned into a scandal that shook the world—or at least most of western Europe. When the recording of Ruben’s speech and Harald’s guilt reached her parent’s living room via BBC news, Cherry had received a rather concerned phone call from dear old Mum and Dad.
Ifconcernedmeantsuspicious, furious, anddemanding an explanation.
So she’d come clean. About everything. It had just come pouring out, really.
But that was—what, three months ago, now? Things had settled down a little since then.
Ruben was learning to cope with the media speculation, along with the lasting effects of his upbringing. And this time, he was doing so with professional help. Apparently he,Ella and Lydia had made a pact: if they talked to a nice doctor about their feelings, he would too.
Cherry thought it was going rather well.
Cherry herself had spent the past months organising Hans and Demi’s upcoming wedding, and that was going well too. Although, Demi was beingveryuncooperative about the dress. What she had against silk trains, Cherry would never know.
And, in between all that, Cherry had made regular visits home. Just to reassure her parents that she was A-okay and not… you know, trapped in a false engagement with a foreign prince to pay for her sister’s degree, or anything like that.
But this was the first time Ruben had joined her on one of those visits. Not that he hadn’twantedto come. Only, after the things her father had said about him over the phone, Cherry was slightly hesitant to put them in a room together.
Magz: Where are you? What’s happening? Did Dad kill your boyfriend? Cuz if so RIP, he was cute or whateva.
Cherry: Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?
Magz: You, every day since my birth. Jealousy is a disease, sis.
Cherry was hunting down the appropriate emojis for her response when her mother spoke over the soft hum of the TV.
“So,” Petra said, her eyes still on her crochet hook. “That’s your gentleman friend, then?”
This was Petra’s first mention of Ruben since he’d arrived at the house with Cherry almost an hour before. Cherry took the odd timing in stride. Her mother liked to unnerve people.
“Yes. That’s him.” She swiped her palms against the front of her jeans. They felt suddenly clammy.
“Mm.” Petra said. She imbued that single syllable with a wealth of meaning that Cherry could not begin to decipher, but was slightly worried by. “He sort out his family problem?”
“Yes,” Cherry said, for what felt like the thousandth time. “He and his family have been granted indefinite leave to remain.”
Petra looked over the top of her silver reading glasses. “His poor sister all good?”
Cherry didn’t bother to say that Lydia was Ruben’s sister-in-law, or that soon she wouldn’t even be that, once her divorce went through. It didn’t seem pertinent. “Yes. She’s doing quite well. So are the children.”
Petra nodded, her lips pursed. She had dimples rather like Cherry’s, but they were no indication of good will.
“Mum, could you stop being all mysterious and just tell me if you like him or not?”
Petra looked up at her daughter in apparent surprise. “Why wouldn’t I like him?”
“Um…” Cherry floundered. “I don’t know. You weren’t very happy when you found out about… the engagement.”
“Thefakeengagement,” Petra corrected with a sniff. “Heisn’t my own blood who lied to me and disappeared out the country without warning! Why wouldn’t I likehim?”
Cherry sighed. “Would you like me to apologise again?”
Petra snipped off the end of her yarn. “It couldn’t hurt, Cherry Pop. Keep going ’til I tell you to stop.” She flicked her gaze over to her daughter, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “And come over here. Sit by me. I want another look at that ring.”
Just as Cherry settled down beside her mother, the door to the study finally opened.
