but at the same time I’m anxious to return to California. God, it’s been months since I’ve felt hot sunshine on my skin. Anglefell’s beautiful, but it’s not home.
My frustration deeps when I glance at the various emails from my friends and family constantly wondering if I’m all right, if I’m being treated well, their disbelief that everything is fine.
I shove my chair from the computer and grab my camera, deciding to take a walk outside. Sitting in here all day isn’t healthy, and besides, it gets boring. It’s been nice practicing my photography around the castle, and the guards tend not to dog me as much when I stay inside the grounds.
It’s semi-overcast today, the sky a troubled gray and blue as I walk into the courtyard to take pictures of the huge gatehouse. I’m still fascinated by the architecture despite living here for months and using all the modern amenities—like castle Wi-Fi.
Then I spot a blond man jogging beneath an arch to get into the courtyard. He’s wearing running shorts and a tank top while I’m bundled up in a hoodie and jeans. Lucian spots me and walks up to me.
“Hey, Daisy. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing well, how about you?”
“I’ve just gone out for a little jog,” he says, chest heaving. “I’m keen to take a longer walk, if you like. We haven’t talked in ages.”
“Sure. I’d love that, actually.”
“Well, come on, then.”
He gives me a warm smile as I fall into step next to him. Lucian heads for the gatehouse, four of his guards automatically gathering behind us as we walk.
“So, how’s Liam?”
Lucian’s tone is conversational, but I can’t help but think he might’ve sensed something’s wrong.
“He’s been a little weird. Avoiding me, I think.”
We start on the dirt path outside the castle that leads toward town, Lucian shaking his head. “I don’t know what’s up with him, but I’ve noticed it too.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Yeah, definitely. I think it’s all the American stuff.” His white teeth flash at me. “I mean, personally, I find it charming, but he’s always been stuck-up about that sort of thing.”
Huh.
“Well, he had no problem eating a cheeseburger in front of me and not sharing it.”
I’ll probably never let that one go for as long as I live.
Lucian’s laughter is a welcome sound, making me feel lighter than I have in weeks. We keep toward the gate at the end of the castle grounds in front of which the paparazzi are always camped. They snap photos of us as we walk past.
“Smile, Princess! Give us a nice smile.”
“How about a nice fuck you,” I mutter out of the side of my mouth.
The path is slightly damp with recent rain, but it looks like the sky is opening itself up to sunshine. The paparazzi follow us, screaming anything to get us to turn around and react, but I ignore the inflammatory comments. I try engaging Lucian in conversation, but it’s almost impossible with the paparazzi constantly interjecting.
“Where are we going?” I ask him.
“Oh, I don’t really have a place in mind.”
“Princess Daisy, are you knocked up?”
Lucian shoots them a glare, but honestly it’s probably one of the least horrible things they’ve asked me.
“Well, I’ve never really had a chance to walk around town.”
“Is Prince Liam dying?”
Desperate. Now they’re just screaming random things to see if we’ll react.
It’s irritating, like a cloud of gnats that won’t leave you alone. Eventually a few taper off and the guards insulate us so I can actually enjoy the city. We walk down a hill, away from the castle, and the scenery becomes a lot more urban. It’s as if there’s an invisible barrier around the castle and we’ve ventured out of its idyllic bubble. The roads are paved with asphalt, the cobblestone gone, and it’s much busier than the sleepy village around the castle. It’s midday and people are everywhere, shopping in the small boutiques and lining up for pastries. There’s a woman with groceries under her arm, holding her toddler’s hand. The harried look on her face disappears when we walk past.
“That’s the prince!”
Fear begins to crawl over my skin as heightened whispers echo around us, but Lucian looks unworried. He casually walks to the back of a queue to a pastry shop and motions toward me. I stand next to him as more people flock to our sides to take pictures. My lungs are starting to burn, and I’m vividly reminded of the incident in Kirkenhaum. Our guards, four bulky men, seem to be