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THIRTEEN

'Just when you think you haven't got anything left, take a deep breath and take one more step it could be the one thing that changes everything.' - Rachael Bermingham

I've sat in hair and makeup for a gruelling three hours. The meticulous hands of our beauty team made me look more alive than I have done for over a month. I had gawked at myself in the mirror for so long that my own reflection started to blur. But no matter how much foundation I am wearing, the bags under my eyes still show through.

It's hot today which is a gross understatement because I can feel the makeup start to dissipate from my face. The sun is out in full force and the modest baby blue sundress I wear is stuck to my skin from sweat. The garden party is in full swing. A band plays music under a canopy on the far left of the party and small tables with umbrellas for shade are situated neatly around the garden on looking at the large expanse of the palace. People mill about everywhere, chatting into their champagne flutes and digging their heels into the freshly mowed glass. The men hang onto their wives, glancing around the gardens with a half-bored expression and their hands in the pocket of their suit trousers. Waiters holding silver trays seem to silently edge their way around the crowd, filling empty hands and refilling half-drunk glasses.

I pull on the front of my dress when I'm convinced nobody is looking to let some air down my chest. The under-boob sweat is something else. I don't envy the men who are dressed in full-suit attire. I glance around the party and leave my glass on a table and make quick work of getting onto the patio. Although I have been here for about an hour, I am socially tapped out.

"Princess!" I hear someone call and I dart my eyes to look anywhere but where the voice came from. The press is here – of course – documenting more of James' search for a bride and they have been hounding me all afternoon. I have yet to make a statement to the camera and I don't plan on making one any time soon. I glance to my left and see a patch of shade beside the palace wall. That will do, I think, I need a moment of reprieve. I start to make my way there when I hear the same voice call my name again.

I glance over my shoulder to see Henry walking towards me. The man has more pep in his step than normal – almost like he's jogging. His suit jacket billows behind him with his fast pace showing there is some wind in the air today – somewhere that I can't feel.

"Is there a bomb I'm unaware of?" I say with a curl of a smile when he's within earshot.

"Do you enjoy running away, Princess?" Henry says with a grin as he slows in front of me. "Or do you enjoy the chase?"

"Can't I say both?"

"Indeed," Henry smirks. I rake my eyes over the Australian secret service agent, drinking in his appearance. It's the first time I have seen him in little over a month and he – like his insurable charge – seems to get better each time I look at him. I swear Australians have something in their blood.

"Are you not hot?" I ask, eyeing his black suit with a frown.

"Sweating like a barbeque," he shrugs, "but it's uniform."

"James needs to give you a break,"

"James, although powerful, doesn't decide what we wear."

"Not good for much then," I try to make it come out as light as possible, aware of the friendship between the two. I am not petty enough to pit his head of security against him.

I round the corner of the palace and walk deeper into the shade, letting out a big sigh and leaning against the wall of the palace. I can feel Henry watching me from where he stands and for some reason, knowing his eyes are on me makes me want to know how he sees me through his eyes.

"You're beautiful," Henry says quietly.

I open my eyes and gaze up at the tall man before me with a small smile. "I bet you tell that to all the girls,"

"Only the ones wearing pretty blue dresses,"

"Oh, so you have extended that curtsey to Lady Henna then?" I smirk despite myself. Henna also is wearing a sky-blue dress. I'm pretty sure she's wearing it only because my Twitter feed was filled this morning with James stating this was his favourite colour in an interview with Vogue. Go figure.

"She is..." Henry trails off and his face tells me all I need to know. "Intense."

"She sure is something," I bite my lip to stop myself from making a face. "She's not my first choice for James."

"Oh?" Henry looks intrigued. "And who has that honour bestowed upon them?"

"I'm not really sure yet," I tell him honestly. "I promised James I would help him find someone and vet them for him I guess. All the girls seem lovely, but they just don't seem to..."

"To what?" he presses.

"I don't know, challenge him I guess or have that spark I know he will need if he isn't going to get bored. Don't get me wrong, these girls are fluent in most languages, have enviable etiquette skills and have exceptional educations but I don't know how many of them could truly hack it, you know? Because they won't just be his wife, they will be his queen."

Henry's eyes bore into my own, a thoughtful expression on his face. "James says loving him, loving any of you is a death sentence," Henry's words feel cold but they are not untrue. "I don't think he's eager to give that to just anyone."

Henry's words rattle around my head. I have no idea what to say to that. Loving any of you is a death sentence. It's a truth I have never wanted to admit.

"There you are,"

The both of us look up to find Henna sauntering towards us, her heels tapping against the stone. Her effortless blonde waves bob as she walks and she only stops when she is right in front of me. She pays Henry no mind at all – as if the man is beneath her.

"And here I thought I would be the last person you would want to find," I tell her glancing at Henry. Henna notices the direction of my eyes and she spins on her heels to face Henry. She reaches out her hand and one of her manicured fingernails trails down his suit jacket.

"Now, what were you both doing behind this corner? Anything I should know about?"

"Why don't you run along now, Henna." I force a smile at her, folding my arms.

"You're a silly girl," she says, turning her attention back to me. "You're over here with the help whilst there is an entire party a metre away. I don't see you attempting to socialise. Are you purposely obscuring your chances, or are you just this bad?"

I dart my gaze from her and notice the small audience of other girls we have assembled on the patio. This is becoming the norm whenever Henna is around and I'm bored of her mean-girl act. I notice Henry slip away, raising his right arm so he can talk into his com and then face back to the girl intent on irritating me.

"I think you forget I have had nineteen years of this stuff, countless experiences. I can do this with my eyes closed," I look at Henna and then at her small group of girls. "If you girls want advice, Henna here is the last person you should be asking."

"Well then Princess," Henna says with gritted teeth. "Show us fools how it's done."

It's the last thing I want to do – go back to the party. I am socially tapped out, sweating my tits off and I would just about rather do anything else than this, but I know by walking away right now I would be letting her win – and I've never been good at doing that.

"Sure thing, honey."

I spin on my heels, suck in a deep breath and start to make my way back down the patio and into the heart of the party. I can feel each of the girls' burning gazes boring into the back of my head. I spot a red-haired woman at the table closest and decide to approach.

"Julia, you look amazing!" I compliment. She's been a family friend for years; her parents are advisors to mine. She's recently married and is expecting her first child. I don't need a fucking folder to tell me that.

Julia turns around and grins, curtseying. "Your Highness, thank you so much. You're looking fantastic yourself, so tanned. I'm jealous."

For a moment I forget that anyone is even watching me as Julia leans in for a hug and I speak to her husband about his work. The conversation is friendly and Julia's husband seems keen to tell me about his opinions on the environmental changes he wants to make to the oceans. It's a topic I am interested in and we chat for a seemingly long time before I politely excuse myself. I glance back over my shoulder and notice Henna and her friends mill around one table, looking busy but clearly observing.

I scan the party once more and spot Edward – Michael's childhood friend chatting to James not too far away.

"Eddie," I call, and Edward's head turns. I don't know who moves to each other first but suddenly I'm walking and the next minute we're hugging, his arms wrapped around my waist and mine are flung over his shoulders.

"There she is," he says and drops me back to my feet. "The only other normal person at this party, present party included," he adds to James.

"You have a funny take on normal then," I flash my eyes at James and smile back at Eddie. "How've you been?" Eddie and I launch into our own conversation.

"Mike really wanted to do that!" Eddie tells us. We have been chatting about surfing for the last five minutes. James still hovers with us, adding to the conversation when Eddie directs something his way but is seemingly otherwise uninterested.

Hearing Michael's name from Eddie doesn't feel as painful as I thought it would and it's nice to see someone else speak about him with the same kind of admiration I feel for someone who actually knew him.

"Surfing is overrated," James cuts in. "And your brother hated getting his hair wet so he wouldn't have liked it."

"Don't act like you know what he would like," I tell him, my voice low.

"You forget I grew up with him too,"

"It doesn't mean you know what he would like,"

"I'm not going to argue about this with you," he shoots back. "It was just a comment."

"Well keep your comments to yourself," I fire back. "You have no idea what it's like when someone acts like they know your brother when they really don't."

James' face darkens and I almost want to punch myself for my own ignorance. I would even let him do it because I know I deserve whatever he says next.

"You forget again that you're not the only one who has lost a brother." His words cut like a sword and his quick departure away from the party twists it even more.

Ireally need to learn when to shut my fucking mouth. 


Thank you for reading! x


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