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Alex walked back in to the bedroom, confused, and opened the closet to see that Paris' backpack was gone. All of the clothes he had gotten for her were still there, but her backpack was gone. He was just about to rush for his phone when he saw a shoe box sitting on the bed. Alex gently lifted the top off to find a pair of high heels studded with hundreds of perfect diamonds. On top was a note in Paris' handwriting, and a glittering diamond engagement ring.
Thanks for the memories. We’ll always have Paris. -P
Alex dropped the note on the floor and ran for the front door of the house, grabbing his car keys from the box next to the door as he made his way for the garage...
24
The fireplace in Orlando’s cabin crackled and burned, lighting up the otherwise dark living room of the small house. Orlando had built the cabin from the ground up two years earlier when he'd gotten tired of being on the road all the time and living out of a suitcase. It had taken him almost a year to build, but it had been worth it to have a home that was all his. Virginia was a nice little state, and with a job in a small restaurant behind the bar and playing shows on weekends, Orlando had settled into a comfortable routine that fit his moods. What didn't make him happy was seeing his sister, wrapped in a blanket, sitting in his armchair and staring through the fire like it wasn't there, like she wasn't there.
Orlando brought Paris a cup of tea and set it down in front of her, fully expecting that she wouldn't touch it, just as she hadn't touched the other five cups of tea he'd brought her.
“Paris, honey, you need to eat, drink... something. At the very least, get out of that dress. You can borrow a shirt and some sweats. You're just, a little over-dressed for the occasion.”
Paris didn't even crack a smile. She just curled up into a tighter ball and pulled the blanket up over her head.
“Paris, listen. I don't know what happened, beyond what I've seen on TV. Thank God I live in the middle of nowhere, or I’m sure I’d have reporters stacked up on my porch two feet high, just like Atlanta did. I don't know what you're feeling right now, but I'm here for you. I'll help you any way I can, you know that. But don't shut me out. I know you’d rather talk to Mama, but she’s got to finish out her contract and the shows she’s gotta do. She’ll be here as soon as she can, I swear.”
Paris pulled the blanket back down from her head and looked at her brother with eyes full of sadness. He always tried to protect her.
“I made such a mess of things, ‘Lando. I made such a huge mistake.”
Orlando sat on the couch and reached over to the chair, taking his sister’s hand in his.
“Falling in love is never a mistake, P. You followed your heart. Whatever happens now, you just have to remember that you never did anything wrong.”
Paris reached over and picked up the cup of tea off the coffee table, taking a long slow slip before she smiled up at her brother.
“It doesn't feel that way, but I do appreciate you saying it.”
* * *
When Alex had bolted from the party, he headed straight for the airport, knowing in his heart that whatever had happened had sent Paris back to America. He'd run up to the ticket agent's desk, begging for information, but it was late, there was only one agent on duty, and she didn't recognize him. She assumed he was some sort of crazy stalker, and having had a few of those herself, refused to give Alex any sort of passenger information.
Frustrated, Alex tried to call the palace, but no one, not even the assistants, were answering their phones. All he could do was go back to the castle and hope one of the people in security could help him.
Alex arrived back at the palace, miserable, his tux jacket thrown in the back of his car, his bow tie hanging dejectedly from his neck. The party was still in full swing, and Alex rushed in to the ballroom to find his mother and father, intending to find out what had driven Paris away. But as soon as he walked through the ballroom doors, he saw exactly what must have sent Paris running from him.
Whitney was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by people, as she laughed and flirted with anyone who was willing to be still and listen to her droning on and on about herself. When she saw Alex in the doorway, she waved with an exaggerated toothy grin plastered on her face and blew him a kiss, a kiss that made Alex's stomach churn. He saw the satisfaction lurking behind her eyes, and he felt in his gut that his suspicions were right.
When he broke eye contact with Whitney to find his parents, he caught his mother's uncomfortable grimace, which was followed by a shrug, to indicate she had no idea what was going on either. Alex's first instinct was to bolt, but before he could leave the room, Whitney was by his side, holding his hands, pulling him into the middle of the dance floor.
Even the feel of his hands on Whitney's waist made him feel nauseous, but she was leading and spinning them around the dance floor like a couple in love. Only when he was sure that no one could hear him over the music, he whispered through gritted teeth, “What did you do to Paris, you witch?”
Whitney threw her head back and laughed as if Alex had just told the most brilliant joke.
“I simply told her that this was no place for little American nobodies, and that you would do your duty in the end.”
Alex twirled Whitney so hard, she almost spun away into the crowd, but she laughed it off and rushed back into his arms.
“You know full well that the only thing I feel for you is contempt. Why would you do such a horrible thing? We don't care about each other. Your life could be your own again. Why do you even care?”
Whitney leaned forward and kissed Alex on the cheek, causing him to visibly recoil. He knew it would be a reaction obvious to onlookers, but he couldn't control himself. When Whitney spoke, she hissed every word like a snake.
“Because, Alexander. She took what's mine. And whether or not I want it, it's mine. And it shall stay mine, no matter what little games you play with your American tramp.”
With that, Alex shoved Whitney away from him. The band stopped playing in shock and the room went silent, as no one had ever seen the Prince engage in such an overtly dramatic display. His face was as calm and cool as ever, but his eyes were flaming with a rage that had been building up for some time. When Alex reached down and grabbed Whitney's hand, she honestly had no idea what he was going to do.
She was shocked when all he did was drag her up to the Royal table, pick up a glass of champagne, and clink it gently with one of the silver knives. As he started to speak, every citizen of Kara's Vale that was in attendance was on the edge of their seat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, loyal subjects, my dearest family, I hate to draw attention away from my brother on this most wonderful of occasions. But my fiancée Whitney and I have an announcement, and we'd like you all to be the first to know.”
Whitney smiled out into the crowd like the cat that got the cream, well and truly convinced she'd managed to sway Alex to her side, and that he would finally agree to set a date. The King's head dropped down into his hands as he prepared himself for a scene, what kind of scene was the question, but a scene nonetheless. Joseph and Matthias were both already laughing behind their coats, as their mother smacked at them to stop.
“I couldn't even begin to imagine being happier to announce that Whitney Bishop-St.Claire of Estia and I are… calling off our engagement. For good, forever, and without even the slightest chance of reconciliation. I have met a woman so good, so kind, and so wonderful, that she has made me realize how truly unpleasant the Princess standing next to me actually is, and as such I choose to take my chances with snubbing centuries of royal tradition, and I will marry for love. While Whitney has attempted to drive away the woman that I love with lies and deceit of the most immature kind, nothing can stop me from finding her, bringing her back here, and making her my wife. So if you'll excuse me, I have a flight to catch.”
The whole room erupted into shocked murmurs and gasps as Alex bolted from the room. Whitney continued to stand there, dumbstruck, with a fake pl
astic smile on her face. Joseph, unable to control himself even in the most awkward of situations, jumped over the table and sidled up to Whitney, to whom he loudly asked,
“So... should I go ahead and call you a car to take your royal arse elsewhere?”
25
It was a busy night at the Beauty & Hook, the restaurant and bar where Orlando had been working for the last two years. Filled with all the local young people who had never left their little town, Paris had agreed to help Orlando behind the bar for the night, just to get out of the cabin.
She'd only been there for a day, but a day of wallowing was more than she was used to, so the distraction was a nice switch. Since Paris was behind the bar, Orlando was using the opportunity to play some of his music on the small stage in the corner. As always, Orlando’s bluesy voice livened the atmosphere to the point that people were dancing next to their tables.
Paris loved serving drinks and talking to people, but she couldn't help but feel distracted. She'd already contacted her school to explain, partially, the situation. They were expecting her back in a week to resume classes, and they promised her that she wouldn't lose any credits if she picked right back up where she had left off. She was excited to get back into a routine, but it felt like every movement she took, every word she said, was clad in the mist of Alex's memory.
Midnight approached in the Beauty & Hook, and more of the locals were piling in to hear Orlando play, and lavish in the craft beers that the bar specialized in—a weekend two-for-one special. The bar was so packed, Paris couldn't even see her brother on the other side—just a swarming crowd of hipsters getting drunk and dancing.
Paris felt her legs starting to ache from being on her feet so long, and getting no break. She limped over to the manager, Scott, and motioned at him that she wanted to go outside. But instead of saying yes, Scott started shouting something at her. Paris couldn't make out a thing he was saying over the noise, so she shouted back at him.
“I can't hear a THING you're saying, Scott! I'm going to take a break! I'll be right back!”
As she turned around, Scott grabbed her arm and stopped her from leaving. She scowled at his hand on her arm and raised her eyebrows at him. Scott scrunched up his face in an exasperated frown and leaned as close to her ear as he could get.
Even though Paris could tell he was shouting, she barely heard him say, “There is someone here to see you! At the end of the bar! He's been waiting a while!”
