SIX

'Eventually, all things fall into place. Until then, laugh at the confusion, live for the moments, and know everything happens for a reason.'– Albert Schweitzer

"You can't carry on like this anymore, you're killing yourself, Eva."

I stare at Charlotte for a long time. Pain is subjective to everyone except the one feeling it. And I don't know how to stop feeling it. For the last year, I feel as if I have been on a never-ending soul-crashing wave. The kind that hurtles you back, knocks out all the breath from your lungs and makes your body imagine it's drowning. From losing Luke to finding out I am being forced to participate in some backwater barbaric ritual from the Middle Ages all to be paraded around like an animal in hopes someone I loathe will marry me. I am done with this life. I am done with being forced into decisions that are not my own.

My cousin sits at the end of my bed, her dog asleep on her lap and her manicured fingers run through his fur. She's got that look about her that makes me think she is waiting for me to break. As if she thinks she could catch me when I finally fall.

"I'm fine," I say after what feels like forever. "It is what it is."

Charlotte looks at me defiantly, a strand of her strawberry blonde hair falling over her eyes. "No, you're deflecting. You are hurt and you're angry and that's fine but I'm not going to sit here and watch you wallow anymore. You've spent a better part of a year in a depressive state with Luke and I'm sick of you feeling sorry for yourself. So what you have to contribute, nobody is forcing you to marry him."

"The money—"

"Will be found somewhere. From what you told me; your father has only asked you to play your role in this. He's only asked you to play the game, Eva."

"I know my father, playing the game won't be enough for him. He wants...he needs this alliance to continue and me marrying James will do that."

"I am only telling this to you because I love you," Charlotte's eyes bore into mine. "But you need to snap out of it. The situation is less than ideal but you and I both know James Prescott is not going to choose you as his bride. Neither of you has been able to be in a room together since you were fifteen and I am sure this is just a formality. Instead, you should be thinking of all the ways you can help him out so he packs his shit up and flies back to his own country."

I don't know what to say to her – because she's right. The sooner James finds somebody to marry, the sooner the Prescott's will leave.

Instead, I purse my lips and try not to smile. "You know, you could have sugar coated that a little,"

Charlotte's face breaks out into a grin. "But the truth is much more interesting."

**

Unsurprisingly, I find myself consumed with my earlier conversation with Charlotte that I cannot sleep. I toss and turn, scroll through my phone and try to read my book but nothing makes my eyes grow heavy. I check my phone again. One in the morning.

Before I can think any better of it, I toss the covers off and leave my room, startling the guard posted down the hall. He watches me from his post by the stairs but says nothing as I make my way down the stairs and towards the kitchens.

A large chest freezer stands at the very back, tucked against a wall. I make my way towards it without turning on the light and pull up the handle, letting the freezer light illuminate my small shadow. I root around for a while, moving around the prepared food and dig out a tub of Ben and Jerry's so far back in the freezer I'm unsure it is even in date.

I rip off the lid then and there and look at the frozen ice cream. A thin layer of ice sits on top of the chocolate brownie mixture and I tap the ice cream on the side of the freezer to crack the ice and let it fall back into the freezer.

"A spoon," I say aloud, closing the freezer door and once again engulfing myself in darkness.

"I can help with that," a voice echoes from behind me and I yelp, dropping the tub of Ben and Jerry's onto the floor and stumble back into the freezer. I have to blink several times for my eyes to adjust to the figure in the darkness but when I do, my heart squeezes.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've taken up stalking me in your spare time," I say, leaning down to collect my fallen ice cream tub.

James rounds the kitchen island and leans over the counter to flicker on the light. It takes a second, but the kitchen begins to light up, one lightbulb at a time. James stands on the other side of the kitchen island; his white t-shirt must be several sizes too small because it hugs every crevice of his body. I try not to stare at the way his muscles flex as he folds his arms.

"That would imply that I like you," James replies and nods to the spoon now resting on top of the island.

I snatch it up, eyeing him warily. "What do you want?"

"You interrupted me first," he says dismissively.

"I did not," I argue but I watch his eyes trail over the island. There's a bottle of rum and a glass on the table and a chair pulled up.

"I...I didn't see you," I stutter, embarrassed.

"Clearly," he remarks.

We fall into silence and James picks up his bottle of alcohol in an effort to leave when I call his name.

"James, wait,"

He turns from the kitchen sink where he has deposited his glass and looks at me expectantly.

"I was thinking," I start, unsure how to broach this topic at all.

"That's a change," the scoundrel mutters under his breath. I almost chuck the tub of ice cream at him and walk away from the offer I am about to give him. Instead, I roll my eyes.

"I am going to help you," I tell him. "Find a bride, I mean."

"Pardon?"

If there is one emotion that rarely crosses James Prescott's face it is confusion and the way he is looking at me right now is picture worthy because I know this was the last thing he expected to hear from me.

"The sooner you find someone to marry, the sooner you will leave, right?"

James eyes me warily, "yes?"

"Then I will help you find that person, okay? I will do my own research; I'll spend time with the girls, interview them myself and find someone I know you might like and then I will tell you what I learn. I'll help weed out the fake ones. I'll help you find a queen."

"Find someone I might like," he states as if that's the only thing he has got from what I have told him.

"God, you're infuriating even when I am trying to help you," I breathe out, "look, I know you're not about to settle for just anyone and I have known you long enough to know your taste in women, James. I will participate in this barbarous game not because I have any desire to marry you but because I desire for you to leave, like yesterday. This is my offer to you, a truce for now if you want to call it that because the sooner you are out of this palace and out of my life the sooner I can start trying to move on with mine."

James gives me the longest once over like he's inspecting my body for some kind of injury. "You better get some sleep," he says finally. "Because the first interviews are the day after tomorrow."

**

"I have a single day left," I say, "a single day left before I have to play the hardest game of my fucking life. I don't even know why I said I would help him. I must have knocked my head on the freezer."

Charlotte glances at me from the mirror. She's claw clipped her hair up and has pulled a few pieces to frame her heart shaped face.

"Now who's being dramatic?"

"You told me to play the game," I tell her defensively. "This is your idea for me to help him."

"So if this is your last night then let's go out," she suggests and spins around my chair.

"You know it's not that simple,"

"Of course, it is," Charlotte rolls her eyes. "Get dressed, wear something casual."

Charlotte stands and walks towards the door.

"Where on earth are you going?"

Charlotte grins and pulls the door open, "to plan a night to remember."

*

With one more glance in the mirror, I check over my appearance. My dark hair is curled from the pool water, and I have applied the bare minimum amount of makeup despite wanting to use the entire tube of concealer to rub out every piece of flaky skin in sight. I'm wearing my signature ripped jeans and a baby blue ruffled top that I think brings out my eyes. It's not going to get much better than this, so I slip my phone into my jeans pocket and pull on a hoodie over my top. I rattle the door handle and nod to the security posted near my door. He nods his acknowledgement back and I must look non-descript enough with my hoodie and normal jeans that he doesn't bother speaking into his sleeve to let anyone else know I am leaving. Charlotte had texted with strict instructions to take a car to an address she sent me.

By some miracle, I manage to make my way towards the kitchens without being pestered by any staff or security and with a quick smile to some of the lingering chefs cleaning up after the day, I slip towards one of the many back doors where deliveries typically arrive. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I tug my hoodie off and tuck it behind one of the pantry shelves. I tip my hair back and fluff it with my fingers before reaching for the door handle.

"You naughty girl, is someone sneaking out?"

Shit.

I look over my shoulder at my brother's grinning face and roll my eyes. He takes a step out of the shadows and rounds the corner.

"Has my little sister been corrupted or do my eyes deceive me?"

I cross my arms against my chest. "Don't tell me you don't want to get out of this place for just a moment and pretend you're..." I trail off.

"Normal? Eva, even if you weren't England's darling princess nobody could ever describe you as simply normal,"

"I just need to get out of here," I say pathetically.

Mike purses his lips and then nods, once. "Okay then, let's go."

"I...eh, what?"

"Let's go before the grey suits come running," he places his hand behind me to reach for the doorknob. I hear the click of the door unlocking but my body doesn't move an inch. I stare up at my brother's face and try to find a flicker of doubt, but he looks at me earnestly.

"You can drive," he prompts me when I don't move.

I don't need telling again.

I spin back around and fly out of the door and into the dark. Mike and I walk towards the side of the palace towards what can only be described as a large car garage. There's a line of car keys against one wall and I grab the first one I see and click the button and wait for the right car to signal it's unlocked.

"You could have picked something more discreet," my brother eyes the range rover, amused.

"Beggars can't be choosers," I shrug and open the car door and climb into the front seat.

I successfully manage to find the right control to open the garage door and hold my breath as we approach the palace gates.

"This is never gonna work," I groan as we come to a stop.

"There have to be some perks to being next in line to the throne," my brother smirks. "I can—"

"Fancy seeing you here,"

Mike freezes beside me and rolls down his window. Adam stands beside the car, a stern expression on his cold face and glances across the car to find me in the driver's seat.

"You don't have a proper license, Eva,"

"Neither does the king but he's allowed to drive,"

"That's because he's the king," Adam deadpans.

"Well, I'm the princess,"

"And I'm the heir to the throne," my brother adds but he's laughing at the two of us.

"How did you know?" I glare at my head of security. "Its been what, two minutes?"

"I'd be bad at my job if I didn't know your whereabouts at all times, your highness."

I look between him and my brother and suck in a breath.

"Ross alerted me," Adam folds his arms over his grey suit.

"Ross?" Mike and I say at the same time. Ross is Mike's head of security.

"The little bugger," Mike mutters under his breath. I see the corner of Adam's lips turns up. Ross is a decorated marine with twenty years experience. He's also not little. Mike might be the future king, but Ross would all about square up to him if he heard Mike speaking about him like that.

"So, we will just be on our way," I try for the last time, putting my hand onto the gear stick.

"And where would that be?" Adam asks.

I reluctantly take my phone out from my back pocket and hand it to Adam and show him the address Charlotte gave me.

Adam eyes the screen and then turns around. He walks towards the booth that controls the gates and I watch as they start to lift up. He's back in my line of vision two seconds later as if he never moved at all.

"You have thirty seconds."

"What?"

"You have a thirty seconds head start before I have three cars on you. Do you understand?"

"You're letting us go?" I say in disbelief

"Twenty seconds, Eva,"

"Okay," I say and put the car into gear quickly.

"Ten seconds!"

"Alright, I'm going!" I yell and step my foot on the accelerator.

Mike starts chuckling in the passenger seat as we flood outside the palace gates. "If anyone could change the rules, Eva, by god it's you. It was always going to be you."

Thank you for reading! x