PAPS PURSUE POTENTIAL PRINCESS TO PUB-2
572 Words
AMELIA CLOSED HER DIARY — a pretty leather-bound book Nick had given her for her birthday last year — and laid down her pen. On the wall above her desk was hung her calendar through the end of term, with exam days and due dates inked in red. A framed photograph of her family, taken last Easter in the sitting room at Kirkham because the weather had been too appalling to venture outside, sat on the windowsill. In the center of the group stood her parents, smiling but reserved. Charlie and Jo had their arms around each other’s waists. Their son Freddy was making a face at the camera, and their daughter Meg was half-hidden behind the huge clutch of flowers she was holding. Nick had his arm slung over Amelia’s shoulder. She missed them all with a sudden intensity she’d not felt since her first month at university.
Priya, bored with the drama of Amelia’s life when it was not taking the form of photographers shoving themselves into her face, took herself off to her room to do homework while listening to her boy band of the month. Now that Amelia had vented about her evening, she felt calmer about it. At least relatively speaking. At least with strangers no longer waving flashbulbs in her face she wasn’t frightened.
She was, however, furious. Not just at the photographers outside the wine bar and her own lost sense of privacy. At Prince Arthur. He had handed her a bargain to change her life and her country, and then had left her to deal with the ramifications of that alone. Not a word of warning or advice about what was in store. Not even a peep to ask her how she was doing or to even acknowledge her existence.
The sane thing to do right now would be to call it off. To tell the Prince that she wasn’t interested, that she liked her life the way it was, that she did not care for an existence where she was a prop and a model for any curious eye to see and own. It would be easy to do, too. The Prince, however baffling and infuriating he could be, was a gentleman. She was sure of that. He would let her go and never breathe a word more about their brief non-affair to anyone.
But — and this was the thing that made Amelia pause, made her gaze shift from the photograph of her family to the London night outside her window — she didn’t want to. Somewhere out there in the glitter and grime of London, was the Prince. And Amelia wanted to marry him. No matter how many photographers accosted her outside of however many different establishments. Even if Gary hadn’t dumped her. Even if she’d gotten into grad school. She wanted this: Power and destiny and a future making history with a Prince who had keen brown eyes and a mouth too good at making promises.
But she wanted it on better terms than Prince Arthur had so far offered. She needed to know whether he really meant everything he had said. She needed to know if he would keep his word. She reached for her mobile and scrolled through her contacts to her eldest brother.
Charlie answered on the second ring. “What do you need?”
“I need a way to contact Prince Arthur,” she said. “I can’t just wait until he decides he wants to talk to me over tea again. You’re one of his closest friends. You must be able to help.”
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- Writer
