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“Lucky for you, it is.” I shot him a playful smile. “Must be the hair. So irresistible.”
Oliver laughed, flipping through some strands of his wig. “Definitely the hair.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a selfie of us donning our aardvark T-shirts and wigs. Then his phone dinged. “Excuse me.”
He lost his smile as he read a message.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He blinked rapidly, clearly disturbed.
Something was off.
“What’s going on?” I inquired again.
Oliver pocketed his phone, grimacing. “Big trouble at home, according to Dante. Veronica is returning, and you and I are wanted back at the palace first thing in the morning. Another emergency meeting with Mother.”
“I’m sure it’s my fault.” I sighed. “What did I do this time?”
“You only get fifty percent of the blame,” Oliver clarified, then dropped a bombshell that almost stopped my heart. “Apparently, there are now millions of people who think I’m cheating on Veronica. With you.”
Chapter Seventeen
PRINCE OLIVER
The Next Morning . . .
As we pulled up to the palace, a frenzy of TV trucks, cameras, and eager reporters awaited just beyond the gates, creating a chaotic spectacle.
Grace’s eyes widened as she peered through the tinted windows of the SUV. “Tell me they’re not because of us.”
I nodded. “They are.”
Grace looked at me, her expression a mix of fear and astonishment. “How can you be so calm about this, Oliver? Everybody is dragging your name through the mud. Believe me, I know what it’s like. I’ve been there more than a few times. And it’s horrible, especially when it’s not true.”
I smiled gently, my gaze fixed on hers. “People will talk, criticize, and speculate—it’s inevitable. But if I let their words define me, I’ll be living their version of my life. The only opinion that truly matters is the one I have of myself. Everything else is just noise.”
Grace nodded, looking deep in thought as the SUV passed through the palace gates.
“Wow—that’s pretty deep,” she said.
I chuckled. “I have my moments.”
“Still, you know Queen Annabelle won’t be thrilled about this,” Grace said.
“Yes, well, Mother hasn’t been happy for quite some time,” I said. “I understand she has to grieve, we all do, but I’m tired of biting my lip and tiptoeing around her. Enough is enough. It’s time to speak up.”
Yet, as I spoke those words, a pang of guilt settled in my chest. The weight of a promise made to my father hung over me like a heavy cloud. Before he passed away, he had extracted a vow from me, a commitment to support Mother in any way required, especially in her time of need as she mourned his passing. I had pledged not to let him down, and to do whatever she had asked, which included the arranged marriage. I also promised to take on the responsibility he carried for so long. To do what was best for our country.
But my heart yearned for something different, something that lay in the complete opposite direction. The prospect of being king and the embodiment of a monarchy I didn’t entirely embrace left me uncertain. I wondered if he would understand the internal conflict tearing at me now. Would Father comprehend that my heart led me down a path divergent from his aspirations for me?
“Be careful with what you say to Queen Annabelle,” Grace said with a mischievous smile. “You might just end up in the doghouse with me.”
“Sounds like fun, if it means we’re in there together,” I said with a grin. “Are there darts in the doghouse? I’m in the mood for another bet.”
“Next time, I’ll choose the bet, and you should prepare to lose,” Grace said with a chuckle. “Speaking of dogs, I have no idea how Freddie is doing. I need to check on him before the meeting.”
“You won't have time, but don't worry,” I assured her. “Dante says he and Mother are inseparable now.”
Grace nodded, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, at least something positive came out of my chaotic visit.”
