Drake has never before liked any of the women that relocate to the palace at the beginning of the social season. Not until Riley. She’s different, although he supposes that’s to be expected, given that she’s a waitress from New York, not nobility like the others. Her actions don’t seem calculated. Instead, her kind words and her bright smile always seem genuine, regardless of who they’re directed to, and sometimes, she seems as awkward around the others as he did.
Another thing that stands out between her and the others is how she doesn’t seem to mind his presence. She’s been honest, first at the Derby, when she told him she was happy to see him, and then at Olivia’s, where she hadn’t minded being relegated to the back tables with him. Riley had sent a smile Liam’s way, but instead of complaining or demanding better treatment, she’d turned the same incandescent smile to Drake.
“I’m actually glad to see you,” she’d said, before calling the other nobles stuffy and almost managing to draw out a smile from him.
She doesn’t even seem to mind his prickly personality. He knows he’s not the easiest person to get along with – he’s too jaded and bitter and frustrated – but he rarely seems to phase her. Even his grumpiest comments are met with either a quick retort or a good-natured laugh.
Every time she smiles, every time she laughs, he can’t look away. It’s an unexpected development, one he isn’t pleased to realise, especially once he begins to notice stirrings of resentment when her brilliant, beautiful smile is directed at Liam.
(It’s only been a week. Maybe it won’t hurt anyone too much if he finds out whether or not Riley’s kisses can make him smile the way they do Liam.)
He doesn’t want to feel this way. Liam is his closest friend, the reason he stays in a world he detests, and he shouldn’t begrudge him something that makes him so happy. And she does make Liam happy. His friend has rhapsodised over how free and fearless she makes him feel, how it feels as though anything’s possible when he’s with her, as if being with her is right. That, with her, being a prince doesn’t matter.
With each word, his own thoughts feel like a betrayal. He doesn’t want her to win. He doesn’t want her to marry Liam. Perhaps she makes Liam feel free, but if she wins, she’d be trapped. Drake has seen how her beautiful smiles fade and her eyes grow tired as each event drags on. He’s noticed how she seems so much more at ease, so much happier, away from the confines of the palace.
Maybe Liam is oblivious, but Drake knows that no matter how many times she dresses up and accompanies the nobility to lavish balls and silly tea parties, the others will never think she belonged with them. No matter how good she looks in the slinky dresses she tends to choose.
He finds her in the gardens one day, when he knows the other ladies are supposed to having a prince-free brunch together. She’s on her tiptoes, peering out over the garden wall. She doesn’t look like a princess, but like a tourist, with a huge sun-hat, equally big sunglasses and shorts he doubts Bertrand would approve of. Abandoned a few feet away from her is a bottle of suncream and an open book.
“Are you lost?” Drake asks, smirking when she jumps. “Tourists aren’t allowed in the palace grounds, you know.”
She turns to look at him. Her nose is slightly pink, as are her shoulders. “I’m not lost,” she says. “But I’m not really meant to be here, so…”
“Yeah, I didn’t think this looked like a brunch.” He gestures at the grass around him. “There aren’t any mimosas. Or other people.”
She smiles and steps away from the wall, slipping her phone into her pocket as she turns round to look at him. “I told Maxwell I wasn’t feeling well. I even coughed a few times to make sure he’d buy it.” She grimaces. “As tempting as brunch sounds, I thought I should finally send my roommate a message. I left a note for her when I picked up my things, but I’ve been silent ever since. It’s not exactly the first time I’ve taken off without any warning, but it’s the first time it’s looked like I might not be going back anytime soon. I was thinking of sending a picture or something, but I don’t really know how to explain any of this.”
“You’ve done this before?”
Riley shakes her head, a soft laugh falling from her lips. “Yeah. What, did you think this was my first princess competition?” Drake raises an eyebrow and refuses to let himself smile. “Okay, not what you meant. Yeah, this isn’t the first time I’ve flown somewhere on a whim. I was sick of the snow in New York once so after I finished work, I just… threw a bag together, went to the airport and bought a flight to Hawaii. And I wonder why I’m always broke.”
“Is that what this was?” he asks. “A whim? An impulsive trip abroad where you could play princess for a few days and then go home?”
She sighs, sitting back down on the grass beside her book and her suncream. Drake hesitates and then joins her. “I didn’t even know what this was. I’d had a good time with Liam the night before and Maxwell was offering me a trip to Europe and I’ve always wanted to come to Europe. I knew it wasn’t going to be a normal vacation, but I was expecting a bit more free time. I thought I’d at least get to see the island.”
“You know that if this goes well, you won’t be going back to New York, right?” He watches her, frowning when she adjusts her sunglasses and scowls up at the sky. “You won’t be leaving.”
“Fingers crossed I don’t win then,” she says quietly. He glances at her. She’s trying to pass it off as joke, but he’s heard her teasing before and this sounds just a bit too serious. “I’m sure you can’t wait to see the back of me.”
“You want to leave.”
She’s picking at the grass, pulling up blades of it only to release them and watch them float back to the ground. “Sometimes.” She looks at him, only for a second, and then it’s as though she can’t stop talking. “It’s more than I was anticipating. Everything. I like Liam. A lot. But it’s not been long and everything with him is… intense and fast and too much. And with the contest too? What if I do win? I didn’t have much planned for my future but definitely not this. The Queen was saying things about not showing emotion and making every decision for the people, not for you, and everything’s about protocol and tradition and fashion and no one ever says what they really think and I don’t want that future!”
She sighs again, falling back so she’s lying on the grass. Drake stares at her, unsure what to say. He should try to convince her to stay, shouldn’t he? That’s what would make Liam happy, that’s what Liam would want, and maybe’s it’s a betrayal to do otherwise but her smile’s too bright away from the palace, away from the Queen and Bertrand and Olivia, for him to say what he should.
Drake stands up, his decision made before he can think it through. “Here,” he says, holding his hand out to her. “Come with me.”
She peers at him over the rims of her sunglasses and then takes his hand, letting him pull her up. “What are you doing? Where are we going?”
He hesitates for only a second and then he’s leading her through the garden, further and further away from the palace. “Something I shouldn’t be doing,” he tells her, ignoring the second question. They’re still holding hands.
They skirt the edge of the maze and wander through the rose garden until they reach a metal gate. He releases her so he can turn the lock and open it for her. She peers past him at the narrow dirt road that trails away from the garden, and he watches as she bites her lip, her eyes lighting up with what he already recognises as the promise of an adventure.
“Follow this road and you can get to the harbour,” he says, determinedly ignoring the brilliant smile slowly curving her lips. He shouldn’t say anything more – he’s already said more than he should – but he does anyway. “Let me give you my number. You decide you don’t want to come back, let me know. I’ll send your stuff wherever you want it. And I won’t say a word to anyone. It might be a bit of a scandal, but-”
“Thank you,” she says, so earnestly his heart catches, as she presses her phone into his hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re not stupid enough to forget that you’ve been in the papers recently, are you?” he asks, ignoring her exasperated huff as he types his number into her phone. “The hat and sunglasses should be enough but maybe don’t take them off wherever you feel like it.”
“I’ll try to remember.”
He looks back up just in time to catch her mid-eye-roll and this time, he doesn’t bother to stifle his grin. He watches as she tucks her phone back into her handbag and adjusts the frames of her sunglasses, and then, to his surprise, she removes her wide-brimmed hat so that she can lean in close and brush a kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t know whether or not it’s wishful thinking or reality that she lingers a little bit too long.
He watches her walk away, hat and all, until the dirt road curves away and she’s out of sight.
He might actually miss her.
The next morning, he spots her amid the ladies. Her nose is still a bit pink, and when she leaves the group to talk to him, he notices new freckles on her cheeks and on her shoulders.
“Here.” Riley rifles through her bag and pulls out a slightly squashed paper bag, holding it out to him. “It might be a bit stale but I thought you’d probably eat it anyway. The less gourmet, the better, right?”
It’s a cronut.
“You came back.”
“I did.” She sounds surprised at herself, as though she really had intended to walk away the day before without even a glance back over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’m done with you yet.”