to her when she gets out. I gaze at the state of her room, the neatly tucked-in bedsheets and her clothes folded in the laundry hamper even though they’re dirty, and then I spot her open laptop. I see my name.
I shouldn’t look. It’s none of my business.
But a niggling impulse urges me to talk a step forward and look at the screen. It could be something important. It could be—fuck.
To: Daisy_Walkergmail
From: infoADCnews
Subject: Re: Exclusive interview
Hi Daisy,
Would you be interested in Monday? We’d really like to get started on your story. Please call at your earliest convenience.
I scroll down the chain of emails as blinding fury pounds behind my eyes. She fucking lied to me. This started weeks ago.
You were a fucking moron to think this girl wanted anything more from you.
I’m just her meal ticket, the same as I was for the rest of them.
Red-hot rage builds in my chest as I stand there, staring at the screen, waiting for another email to pop up in the chain so I can write FUCK OFF in capital letters, repeated hundreds of times.
What should I do? Confront her?
No.
I stride out of the room and slam the door, relishing the sound of it.
I’m going to make Princess Daisy’s life hell.
Eight
F*CK THE ROYALS! Madness in Harronvale Café
Daisy
Cheeseburgers.
Sometimes I dream about the taste of them. The fried onions cooked in the ground beef patty, the toasted sesame bun, American cheese oozing over the whole thing, and the tang of ketchup to accompany it.
Yeah, I fantasize about them a lot. I sometimes smell them.
The moment I wake up, it hits my nose. I open my eyes, waiting for it to disappear, but the greasy smell doesn’t disappear.
I nearly fall over my sheets in my haste to get out of bed. Anglefell doesn’t have a burger joint. I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without a burger or a pizza. I haven’t realized how much I need fast food until the tantalizing scent hits my stomach. I burst through the guest room door and walk toward it.
Liam sits on the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. There’s a half-eaten carton of french fries next to him with a little tub of red paste, and in his hand is a giant cheeseburger. He bites into it, and I imagine the taste exploding over my own tongue. He chews loudly, the sound carrying across the room. He gives the burger a thoughtful look.
“Wow—this is—really adequate.” I make a strangled sound, and Liam directs his attention toward me. “Oh, hello.”
I look at the table. “Where’s mine?”
He takes another giant bite that he can barely chew. “I ordered one from the chefs for myself. I’ve never really tried a cheese-burger.”
“It’s ‘cheeseburger.’ One word.”
“Whatever it is, it sucks.”
Heat rises to my cheeks. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do mean it, actually. The presentation is awful. How the fuck am I supposed to fit this in my mouth? And American cheese is the vilest thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. This belongs in the trash.”
My jaw drops as he grabs an empty trash can and hurls the other half of perfectly good burger into it. Then he leans forward and grabs the remaining fries, stuffing them in his mouth.
“These, however, aren’t bad. But who the fuck hasn’t had fried potatoes?”
Okay, so he’s back to being a complete jackass.
“Are you doing this to torture me, or insult my culture?”
His eyes narrow dangerously as he gives me a broad smile. “I don’t know what you mean, love.”
I’m thrown by the hostility in his voice, but the room still smells like cheeseburger, and damn it, I want one.
“How can I get one made for me?”
“You can’t,” he says in his arrogant drawl. “I’m prohibiting it. American cuisine is dreadful, and I won’t have it in my castle.”
“What the hell is your problem?”
“Dunno what you mean.”
“Is this because I don’t want to stay here and be your princess? Grow the hell up! The world doesn’t revolve around your dick!”
He points to the ceiling at the naked photo of himself sitting on top of a renaissance painting with fat cherubs flying around.
“Actually.”
“Whatever. You’re having a tantrum. Knock yourself out.”
Irritated, I head toward the kitchen, where there’s probably some bacon and I can munch on while brooding about Liam’s violent mood swings.
“Oh, I forgot to mention I signed you up for some princess-related classes. I thought it would be good to educate you in some arts and things of that nature.”