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“Then”—she continues—“one day I realized the only reason they were watching me was because I was royal. They didn’t see me, Chloe Marie Huntington. They saw the princess of Kentonia. Any other girl could have been born in my place, and they would have treated her the same way.”
It’s not true, because she has the kind of beauty that radiates out of a person no matter what they look like on the outside. But it’s not time for me to speak yet. So I draw her back against my chest, inhaling a whiff of her honey-tinged skin, settling in for her story. I will listen for as long as she will share.
“Do you remember the time I was twelve or thirteen, and I had to give an inspiring speech to a bunch of graduating kids from grade five?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer before plowing ahead. “Well, that day will be burned in my memory forever. For some reason, the teleprompter was acting wonky, and I was nervous because giving speeches was something Topher did really well, not me. And I fumbled all over my words, not making a lick of sense. I even told the kids to ‘arm high and dreach for their reams’ instead of ‘aim high and reach for their dreams.’” Chloe snorts. “Obviously, ridiculous of me, but again, I was nervous. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but then …”
“Then?”
“Then, the media was all abuzz about the Illiterate Princess who was better off sticking to shopping and fashion instead of anything that requires use of a brain.”
“That’s terrible,” I say. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t remember that at all.”
“But I do. And that kind of thing … it just hits hard, especially when you’re a teenage girl.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply it shouldn’t hurt. Just that I don’t believe anybody thinks of you that way now. Definitely not anyone who matters.”
“Thanks, Freddy.” She squeezes me. “I think that was the start of really caring too much what other people think about me. I just … I didn’t want to be the butt of any more jokes, you know? I tried to prove myself, to be smart, to be funny, charming, winsome, all of the things a good princess should be. And then, all of that went down the toilet when I was twenty-one and accidentally flashed the media when getting out of a vehicle. What made matters worse was that I was so flustered that I tripped. In one moment, there went all of the careful crafting I’d done of my image. Now I became the princess who partied so hard she got drunk right before an important gala for cancer patients.”
I do remember that one. “They were much too harsh. And a pack of liars.” I’d been with both Topher and Chloe that whole night and hadn’t seen Chloe have a single sip of anything but water.
But after that, she’d changed. It had broken my heart to see it. And I’d never put two and two together until now—never realized how everything had affected her on the inside, because on the outside, she’d acted completely unaffected by everyone’s opinion of her.
I don’t want to assume, though. “Is that why …?”
“Yes.” She sighs. “I decided that if they were going to think the worst of me, I’d at least give them a reason to. If they were going to brand me as the Partying Princess, I’d embrace that label full tilt. So I started staying out late. Dating men I shouldn’t. Drinking too much. Escaping my protective detail. And for a while, the release felt wonderful. I let go of everyone’s expectations and was just myself. At least, I thought I was being myself. Until …”
Now she’s the one to pull back, nestling herself against the pillows behind us instead of my chest. Our feet remain connected, but she folds her palms against each other and places them under her cheek.
My fingers itch to haul her back to me, to play with the curls cascading over her shoulder, spilling onto the mattress between us. Instead, I turn on my side to face her. “Until what?”
“Until you found me one night in the garden. Do you remember?”
How could I forget? I’d been off duty, out for an evening run, when I’d stumbled across her. As always, she’d looked striking in a teal party dress that only reached mid-thigh and her blonde hair loose and shimmering in the moonlight. But she’d wobbled on her tall heels, and her makeup had been smeared and her eyes had just looked … haunted. Lost. “I remember,” I say, my voice quiet. “Do you?” I had sworn that she’d been too wasted to recall any of it, so I’d never mentioned it again.
“Every detail,” she says with conviction. “You held my hair while I got sick in the bushes. You walked me back to my room and made sure I was safe. You never told a soul.” Chloe swallows hard. “And do you remember what you said to me?”
Not really, not exactly. I just remember aching for her, wanting her to know that she was special, that whatever she was trying to prove … well, that she didn’t have to. “No.”
“I told you I was so sorry that you had to see me like that. And you told me you knew that this wasn’t who I was. That I could be whoeverIwanted to be, and I didn’t have to let the media or anyone else define what that was. That I didn’t have to let anyone else determine my worth.” Starlight pours in through the window behind me, alighting on her face. She’s a pure angel, and she’s focused on me. “I was so tired of trying to be whatever everyone else wanted me to be, and you gave me permission to be myself. Truly, Freddy, you changed my life with those words.”
“I had no idea.” My voice is gruff, and the back of my eyes burn. “But I’m glad that you got something out of my bumbling.”
“It’s not the words or the way you said it. It was your heart. You saw me, and I can’t ever thank you enough for that.” She smiles, and I feel it down to my toes. “Now, I still struggle with knowing my place in the world, but at least I feel more sure about myself and who I am. If only I could figure out what todowith that.”
“You will.” And I allow myself this, to reach out and stroke her elbow. “And if I know you, you have some ideas.”
“Ridiculous ones, maybe.”
“For example?”
Pursing her lips, she’s quiet. Then, “The ladies said something at the winery the other night … about how Rhonda is selling Something Blue. The wedding shop.” Another pause. “About how I should move here and buy it.”
Oh. My stomach twists. “Wow.”
“I know. Like I said, ridiculous. I have duties at home. My father wants to marry me off, for one.”
Another twist.
“And for two, that’s just the sort of thing everyone would expect me to do, right? The partying princess, turned pauper and party planner.” She says this with self-deprecation, sticking out her tongue. “I think I’m just getting lost in the fantasy here, you know? We’re far away from the royal life. Nobody knows who I am. And they treat me normal. But if I moved here, it wouldn’t be the same, I’m sure. Then again, maybe it would.”
