The Prince revs the engine and takes off down our long, winding driveway and out through the estate gates. The convertible roars beneath us as Theo shifts gears. I lift my arms up to feel the rush of the air as we drive, finally letting myself smile in earnest.
It feels like old times. Before the accident. Before Luca went to Singapore. Before he pushed me away.
Like all those years when the Princes and I would spend long, summer days together. When we’d laze on sailboats and go swimming for hours. When we’d come back home with wrinkly fingers and toes, and hair bleached by the sun.
A laugh explodes out of me as the wind whips through my hair. I glance at Prince Theo, leaning over to rest my head on his shoulder. He slings his arm around me and gives me a nudge, grinning.
“Happy?”
I nod. “Yeah. Happy.”
And it’s the truth.
I’ve been excited to leave Argyle. I’ve been looking forward to making a future for myself, away from my family and my home. I’ve been looking forward to exploring a new world and trying to make it as a singer.
But have I been happy? Really, truly, throw-your-arms-out-of-a-convertible-and-let-out-a-scream happy?
I can’t say I have.
“I knew you would be.” The Prince grins, accelerating down the road. “I couldn’t go another year without doing this. It’s tradition. It’s important. The past three years have been a mess, and I think it’s time we start enjoying life again.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” I say, my smile splitting my face in half. My cheeks already hurt.
We slow down as we arrive at the royal marina, and Theo’s personal sailboat is a hive of activity. Half a dozen members of staff are walking on and off, preparing it for its time at sea. We won’t be out there long—just two nights—but the royal preparations leave nothing to chance.
Theo glances at me, smiling. “Did you bring the deck of cards?”
A flash crosses my eyes as I grin. “Yup. Wouldn’t be the solstice sailing trip without them.”
“Good.” The Prince opens the convertible door and strides toward the waiting sailboat. I grab my bag and scamper after him, excitement igniting in the pit of my stomach.
After three years of pain and countless sleepless nights thinking about Luca, this is the first time I feel like myself again.
It’s the perfect way to leave Argyle. I’m not leaving after a year of misery. It’s my final tour to the island of my youth, and the last little bit of familiarity before I take off for a new beginning.
As soon as I step onto the royal yacht, my heart feels at ease. Most of the staff members walk off, leaving Prince Theo and me with a chef, the captain, and a two-man crew. Usually, we’d have the other princes here, too.
Theo doesn’t seem to mind. He shakes the captain’s hand and looks over his shoulder to smile at me. I inhale the sea air, closing my eyes to enjoy the sun’s rays on my skin.
After three years of heartbreak, things are turning around. This is the start of the chapter for me. One where I have new experiences and a fresh start.
The Prince is right—our traditions are important. Even if Luca’s gone and it’s just Theo and me, it matters that we do our solstice sailing trip. It matters that I stay friends with Theo. It matters that we care about each other, even if Luca and I will never be together.
It’s one last sailing trip to send me off into the world—the perfect goodbye.
3
Theo
“Sing me a song, Cara.”
I stare up at the night sky as a thousand stars twinkle down at me. Gentle waves lap at the sides of the sailboat. The sound of the shore has long since faded, and Cara and I are alone on board with the captain, crew, and chef.
Cara groans beside me. I turn my head to see her lying on the yacht’s deck beside me, her dark, reddish-brown hair splayed around her head. Big brown eyes stare back at me, and she shakes her head.
“It’s bad luck to sing at sea.”
“It’s bad luck to have women on board, yet here you are.”
“Why are there always women carved on the bow of a ship, then?” She arches an eyebrow.
I grin. “They’re topless. That makes it okay.”
“Bullshit.”
“Hey, I don’t make the rules. Long John Silver says topless women are okay, and clothed women aren’t. Who am I