Royally Screwed - Lynn Van Dorn Page 0,3

And ever. And—”

“That’s quite enough,” Philippe admonished, but fondly. “Now, boys, shake.”

They shook hands, then Angelo snatched his back. “Good night.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Yuri sang out. “And then we can be together all day tomorrow. Won’t that be fun?” He smiled an evil grin at Angelo, just daring him to object.

Angelo ignored him. “Good night, Philippe.”

“Good night, your highness.” Philippe steered Yuri out of the room and presumably down the hall to his own bedroom.

Of all the sodding princes in the world, why did Angelo have to get stuck with the worst one in existence?

It was absolutely no fair.

2

Yuri Is Thirsty

Sixteen-year-old Yuri leaned against the wall in the dining hall at his boarding school and sulked. The darkly paneled hall had been turned into an egregiously twee silver and gold fairyland for the school's winter ball. It was all very Goblet of Fire, minus the actual magic, but with much better outfits. Unlike Harry Potter, Yuri had no date for the ball, and that was because unlike Harry Potter, Yuri had a fiancé. Or a betrothed. Whatever. He'd been betrothed to Prince Angelo of Tanzhir for their entire lives. The problem was that Angelo had a date to the ball and that person was not, needless to say, Yuri.

Yuri had never known a time in his life without Angelo. He wasn't always around, but his existence was always felt. Theirs would be a marriage of convenience, diplomacy, and trade. Love factored nowhere near it. Not that Yuri was particularly interested in love. That was for girls and romantic idiots. Love wasn't the point.

The point was that Angelo was his, by right and birth and royal decree and probably other things Yuri couldn't think of at the moment. He shouldn't have taken a not-Yuri date to anything. Especially not a school ball, where everyone could see, much to Yuri's humiliation. Angelo sure as fuck shouldn't have a girlfriend, either. Yet there they were, dancing terribly, hands all over each other, practically kissing in front of everyone.

It was disgusting and infuriating and made Yuri want to hit something.

“You should stop staring at them,” advised Jacki. “It's totally creepy.”

Jacki was one of the few students at Meadow Chase who was, to be blunt, of common birth. Her father was some sort of American tech billionaire and her mother was an Italian fashion designer. Neither one had the time to stay at home with a child, so they'd sent her off to an exclusive and expensive boarding school in Europe. “Like they were kenneling an inconvenient dog,” Jacki had told Yuri shortly after they'd first met. Her parents were awful, but Jacki was quite nice and down to earth. “It's because I was raised by a nanny,” she’d confided. “I just lucked out that my parents chose a good one. It was utterly random, trust me. I could've just as easily been brought up by a serial killer and they'd have never noticed.”

Jacki was, Yuri supposed, his date for the ball, in as much as they'd shown up together out of solidarity, but neither of them had much interest in dancing. Yuri couldn't take his eyes off his betrothed dancing with his hands all over Lady Rebecca's bum. Jacki, for her part, missed her girlfriend, who'd broken her leg skiing and wouldn't be back to school until it healed.

“I'm not staring,” Yuri insisted, even though he was staring.

“Yeah, you are. I don't get you. You are always saying how much you can't stand Angel.”

“I can't stand him, or that stupid name. He's about as far from an angel as you can get.”

“Then stop staring.” Jacki nudged him with her shoulder. “Why do you even care?”

Because he's mine, Yuri thought. Because he belongs to me. And then the familiar disgust rose up. Angelo was just as much an unwilling participant in the engagement as Yuri. Like Yuri, Angelo had been given no choice. And Angelo wasn't gay, like at all, and he hadn't had a crush on his fiancé for years.

Yuri wished he could say the same.

Expecting fidelity, under the circumstances, was stupid. Yuri knew that. Literally no one expected the two of them to ever be a real couple. Even after the marriage, his mother had carefully explained, they would be able to go their separate ways. Fall in love with other people. The marriage was a formality. As long as they were discreet, no one would care what they did, or with whom.

It was something of a royal tradition, even.