in these fucking princess heels that make my feet ache, wishing I could rip them off and throw them down the street.
The gentle pattering of rain seems to slow. I peek around the corner, spotting the huge crowd surrounding the bar and the media vans parked out front. A violent shudder runs through my body, anxiety leaping in my chest as I turn my back on them and walk away.
Where are you going?
I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore, only that I’m going insane trying to fit my awkward feet into these shoes while walking like a princess, talking like one. I’m a pig in a wig. It’s just temporary.
Tears mingle with the rain on my face as I walk down the mostly empty street.
Then a woman stares at my face for a little too long, and I glance away. “Princess Daisy!”
I ignore her.
“It’s the princess.”
“No,” I shoot back. “I’m not.”
She runs toward me, her phone clutched in her hand. “Please, could I get a photograph? For my daughter?”
“I’m not a princess!”
Taken aback, she stands still as I walk past her. But there are more people noticing. I feel eyes on my face. Strange men run toward me, and a leap of panic stabs my chest. A white van rolls up to the curb where I’m standing.
Oh God, I’m being kidnapped.
The door slides open, and men with giant cameras shove them in my face, taking pictures.
“Smile for the camera, love.”
“Stop. Please!”
A wall of curious people block the way ahead, and I try to push past the paps, but they won’t let me through. The way back is flooded with people too. There’s no way out. People press against me on all sides, demanding autographs, pictures, grabbing my sleeve.
“Let me through!”
Panic builds up in my throat, and I can see my own shivering face in the dark lenses of the cameras madly clicking away.
“Get the fuck off!”
An enraged voice bellows from outside the circle, and then I see Liam parting the sea of people with his guards. He catches my gaze, his eyes narrowed in faint annoyance as he tries to smile for the cameras, laughing off the fact his idiot wife got lost. At least, that’s what I imagine the spin will be in tomorrow’s paper.
“Move aside. Move!”
The guards roughly shove people back with their massive arms as Liam plucks me from the crowd and yanks me into his chest. The next few seconds are a blur of movement as I’m practically dragged and stuffed into the car.
Liam slams the door shut. “Are you fucking mental?”
My back hits the back of the car seat as we drive away. My hands are still shaking, the sapphire ring vivid against my pale skin.
“I-I forgot.”
“You forgot? That’s your excuse?”
His eyebrows fly somewhere in his hair as I give him a miserable look. Then he sighs, ripping off his jacket and wrapping it around me.
“Daisy, listen to me. You can’t take walks on your own anymore. Millions of people know where you are and what you look like. Our wedding was broadcast to hundreds of countries. You’re no longer just an ordinary girl from California, you’re a princess—”
“No. I can’t be a princess. I’m not made for this.”
He gives me a grim smile. “Too late, love.”
Perhaps it would have been better to twist my back in the quarry and keep my identity whole.
“I can’t be what you want me to be.”
He sighs, the anger dropping from his face as he slides an arm around my shoulders. He pulls me into his chest, and my head pounds with the reassuring thud of his heartbeat.
“I’m not welcome here.”
“What did you expect, love? Our countries haven’t been the best of buds. I’m trying to repair that by showing the world that, no, Prince Liam is not above fucking an American girl. Prince Liam doesn’t give a shit about nationality when it comes to true love.”
“Prince Liam needs to stop talking about himself in the third person.”
“Smartass.”
“I miss home.”
He squeezes my shoulder.
The car grinds to a halt in front of the B&B, where there are reporters waiting for us. Goddamn it. My stomach tenses at the sight of them.
Liam grips my hand firmly as though afraid I’ll run off again. We quickly exit the car and dive through the mass of reporters. The B&B’s doors open.
“The princess and I will retire to our rooms for now.”
“Yes, of course, sir.”
Shivering under Liam’s jacket, I follow him upstairs and moan when we finally walk inside