Page 15 of How to Date a Prince (Being Royal #1)

Chapter Twelve

I n the back of the car on the way to London, at last my shoulders ease.

It’s late June, and the sun’s making an effort today over England, and it’s beautiful.

The green rolls on forever, through broad pasture and distant woodlands.

It makes me miss the expanse of Sandringham, and especially Balmoral, where I can go out alone for hours of hillwalking.

I scroll through various texts, with schedules for the weekend and the week ahead. As forecast, I’ll have Buckingham Palace to myself with my family away.

About ten minutes after I leave Katie another voicemail message, she texts back.

I’m up for talking if you are.

How’s tonight? Would you like to have dinner in? I ask.

7 p.m.?

Perfect. Please come to the palace.

She sends a thumbs-up emoji.

I’m not brave enough to suggest drinks because that’s what got us into trouble last time. And me at last New Year’s with Anne and Gav, when Gav and I looked at each other for a moment too long and Anne spotted us in Katie’s kitchen.

As we approach London, my shoulders tighten again. We wind through rush-hour traffic into the city. In the end, we take a detour to an accident on a key motorway. By the time we reach the palace, I’ve been in the car for more than a couple of hours, and I’m ready to stretch my legs.

At the palace, I have a quick workout. I run as hard as I can on the treadmill, lift weights, do a stretch cooldown.

I’ve missed working out this week, in my dedicated avoidance of the other contestants.

I can’t imagine facing Wilson in the weight room.

Instead, each morning, I did push-ups and crunches in my room, where no one could see me.

On a couple of the evenings, I walked around the property, shadowed alternatively by Alice or Nick, ever vigilant.

A shower later, I’m dressed for dinner in a soft plum merino jumper and jeans. Katie arrives in a navy dress, her hair up. She looks great as ever, except she still has the same worry in her eyes when she sees me.

We hug and exchange air-kisses before we look at each other. She bites her lip and struggles to look at me.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry. And I’ve missed you.”

She gives me a half smile at that. “Of course you did. I’m wonderful.”

“You are.” I offer my arm, and she accepts.

We go to a small dining room, much more intimate than where we host state banquets and other regal affairs.

There’s a pale coffered ceiling overhead with an elaborate crystal chandelier, deep burgundy walls, ornate artwork of deceased family members, and a few landscapes in the mix.

The towering windows overlook the shift to moody purple twilight outside.

A butler soon comes to take our orders for drinks and starters.

Katie’s silver earrings dangle, a tendril of escaped hair following the curve of her jaw. She considers me across the small round table, over the cream linens and a small centerpiece bouquet with flowers from the rose gardens.

“I’m so sorry, Katie,” I say again when we’re alone. “I took advantage, and I shouldn’t?—”

She waves me off. “I’m just as responsible for that night as you are. I… well, I wanted you, Auggie.” Katie’s eyes are a little bright then, and she looks down at the napkin in her lap. “And I know it’s impossible. I knew that before, and I know that now. You’re not in love with me.”

My lips twist. There’s a hollow in my chest, my voice caught in my throat. It takes me a couple of tries. “If I was going to be with a woman, Katie, it’s you,” I say softly.

Katie smiles, but her eyes well with tears for a moment. She reaches out to squeeze my hand.

We’re quiet with our drinks when they are served. She gazes out the window. Birds dip in the dusk, catching tiny bugs that we can’t see. It smells like summer through the open window, of freshly cut lawn. Even in London. We could be a million miles away.

“I heard you were out of London for a few days,” Katie says at last. She adjusts her napkin, finally turning to me. “Anne mentioned.”

“Mm,” I acknowledge. “You won’t believe what my father’s done.”

“Oh?”

“He’s signed me up for a reality TV program. As a contestant.”

Katie chokes on her wine. She splutters, staring. “ You ?”

“Exactly. Me.” I sigh. “And it’s going about as well as you can imagine.”

“Holy shit,” she marvels, still staring at me are. “Are you alright? How did you agree to that?”

My lips twitch, a sour taste metallic in my mouth. “Like usual. When do I have a chance to agree to most things? This, like so much else, is decided for me.”

“God. Auggie, I’m so sorry. You must hate it.”

“I do. Evidently, duty calls. And that’s more important than my wishes. You know that.” I cough slightly. “He wants to make the monarchy appeal to younger people. And… he wants the exposure to help me find a bride.”

She gives me a wry look. My shoulders sag.

“Yeah.”

Katie’s quiet for a long moment, digesting all of this. “Which program? You can’t be on Big Brother .” A strange look crosses her face. “Please don’t tell me you’re on The Bachelor .”

At that, I laugh, tension finally easing in my jaw. I didn’t realize I was clenching it till now. I shake my head. “No. Also, you’re sworn to silence due to my NDA.”

Katie gives me a look. “Of course I won’t say anything.”

“I know, I know. I just had to say it. I can’t tell you the name of the show or details. But it’s new. It’s a show with challenges, and I failed, spectacularly. But… they didn’t send me home.”

She looks at me, contemplative.

“So I’m back next week. The show films all summer. Whether I’m there for all of it remains to be seen. But clearly, there’s some storyline about the monarchy. And opposing it.”

Katie taps her fingers against her lips. She sips wine. “Clearly, the show has a plan in mind for you.”

“I guess.” I shrug. “And you won’t believe this part. I will tell you this much.”

She perks up, intrigued as she leans closer. “Oh?”

“Thomas Golden is on the show.” I give her a meaningful look.

“I should have put this together when you mentioned reality TV.” Katie shakes her head at herself. “That was silly of me. Oh my God, and after the things you said to him?—”

I wince and nod. “Mm.”

Our dinner comes, grilled salmon and salad, appropriate for summer. With our glasses topped up, we dine. Darkness falls outside.

Katie tilts her head. “So, what’s he like?”

“Erm…” I redden then and shrug. “Aside from gorgeous, he hates my guts. Mostly. Which, by the way, I think is kind of hot. What the hell does that tell you about me?”

“That you need to get laid, my friend. And… not only by me.” Katie lifts her eyebrows at me. “Auggie, you deserve someone wonderful.”

“So do you. Well, he’s not it, believe me. I overheard him earlier saying some shit about the monarchy. And me. Whatever he thinks, it’s not lovely. Besides, you told me he has an influencer girlfriend, and… well, he thinks I’m with you. Because of the press.”

She raises a forkful of salmon, pausing. “But what do you want, Auggie?”

“What do I want?” It’s my time to be rueful. I shake my head. “Want isn’t in my vocabulary. Why bother?”

And I think back to the almost kiss with Gav at New Year’s, which helped land me in the current mess. Then, he shifts to Thomas, and somehow, I remember the soft curve of his mouth, the redness of his lips, and the way I wanted to taste them. Heat rises in my face.

“Auggie?”

“Huh.” Attraction, then. I should have figured this out sooner. Fuck, I’m doomed. An anti-monarchist, no less. Queen Victoria must be turning in her grave, rallying up my ancestors for an intervention. But there’s no need because nothing will happen in a million years.

I shake my head. “Never mind what I want.”

“No, seriously. What do you want?”

With a shrug, I meet her gaze. “To be happy,” I say softly. Then, I top up my wine and drink it. My hand trembles. I stare out the window into the blackness.

She frowns slightly. “Oh, lovely.”

I shrug, looking down at my plate. My appetite has left, my meal half-eaten.

I push the plate to the side. “It’s been hard,” I confess.

“Lately. Without anyone talking to me. And… me not talking to Father. Because of the show. He doesn’t understand me anyway.

It’s you. And Gav. And Anne, well, I’ve betrayed her trust, haven’t I? ”

“Hey, I’m here. I’m on your side. Remember? Even if…” Katie falters, twisting her napkin in her lap. She gives an unconvincing smile.

I nod, fidgeting with my wineglass. “Part of the disaster last week was thinking of my mother. And that’s just made everything feel worse.

More lonely. Like I’m reminded again of how much I’ve lost. Mum.

My family. The horses. Which is silly because anyone would look at me and see how much I have.

” I gesture broadly. “So, my misery is self-indulgent.”

“Feelings are feelings. I can only imagine how much it hurts not to have your mum. Or your family’s support.” Katie gives me a half smile. “All the riches in the world don’t make up for feeling lonely, do they?”

That cuts deep, and I shiver. I shake my head, thinking of Thomas then.

She puts her cutlery down too, pushing her plate aside.

“Let’s walk,” I say suddenly, glancing outside.

So we do, and the air is refreshing. The darkness is a soothing cover, away from the palace. We walk gravel paths, crunching underfoot. We pause by the lake, see the silhouettes of swans. We watch them glide over the still dark waters, like glass.

“I think I’m attracted to Thomas Golden,” I say at last. “Despite his influencer girlfriend.”

She gazes at me. “I know you are. I knew that the first time you looked at each other. Before you kissed me in front of him.”

“I’m so sorry for what I did,” I tell Katie, looking down at her face, tilted up to mine. “It wasn’t fair.”

She reaches up to trace my jaw. “I know. Nothing about this situation is fair. It’s stupid being in love with my best friend. And there’s nothing I can do about that right now either. Just wait for the feeling to go away.”

“Oh, Katie… I’m so sorry. I really am.”

Katie nods, resigned in the way her shoulders slump. “It’s going to take some time, Auggie. But… we can try to talk again.” She gives a half smile. “I’ve missed you too. And I want to hear about the show as it goes on. Promise?”

“I promise.”

She looks relieved at that. “Good. Thanks.”

I hate that she’s hurting and that I’ve strained our friendship. But with her talking to me again, it’s a start. And I can go back to the show next week feeling like one less thing is a total disaster.