think that?” George asked as he finished buttoning me and spun me around to look at myself in the mirror-door we’d entered through. He rested his hands on my shoulders and nodded. “Stunning. Absolutely stunning.”
I examined my reflection and had to agree. It fit me flawlessly, showing off my pecs and the bulge of my biceps, which surely wasn’t an accident given the aim of the event, and the deep, mysterious green color made my eyes pop. “I dunno about you, George, but I don’t think we even need to try the others; we have a winner.”
“I agree. Now, was that so hard?” George asked as I unbuttoned the jacket.
“No, but honestly, I’m bothered by what you just said about me. Am I really that awful?”
“Well, I meant no offense, but for God’s sake, you hadn’t even tried any of these gorgeous outfits on, so I didn’t think you were taking this event seriously, as usual. But it is serious. You’re nearly thirty, Heath. The public is whispering about why you haven’t married.”
I raised an eyebrow. “They are? Why would they care about that?”
George looked at me like I was the simplest person he’d ever met. “They’re worried you might never settle down and that Gilmouth might spiral into chaos without a legitimate heir to the throne. I can’t say their fears are unwarranted.”
“But I’m just a figurehead, you know that. I don’t have any actual power. The crown hasn’t for decades. Parliament would handle things just fine, even if we never had another monarch.”
“That may be true, but what you lack in political power you make up for with social influence. You’re much more than a figurehead to many people. You’re a symbol of what it means to be Gilmouthan, so the people look to you for an example to follow. In the ten years since your parents’ death, the public has been clamoring for a strong royal family to bring a lacking sense of stability back to their lives. It’s time for you to create that family for them and, more importantly, for you. Your parents would want that for you too.”
I stood staring at George, speechless. He’d never shied away from giving me hard advice I may not have wanted to hear, but this time was different — because it worked. Images from my childhood of both my fathers flashed through my mind like an emotional bolt of lightning, shocking me with a realization: neither of them would’ve wanted me to spend the rest of my life wallowing over their deaths alone in this fortress.
George chuckled and clapped a hand on my shoulder, anchoring me back in my body. “I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on those strapping shoulders of yours, but I know how strong you are; you can handle it. That said, I don’t honestly expect you to meet the love of your life tomorrow evening, but will you at least try to make a good first impression?”
“I’ll give it my best shot,” I said, and a warm smile spread across his round, rosy face.
“That’s all I’ve ever asked of you, Heath. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some more preparatory matters to attend to.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said and watched him swing the mirror-door open and disappear behind it. When it swished shut again, I stared at my stunned reflection and realized that, not unlike the glass in front of me, George had held up a mirror for me to see how the rest of the world viewed me — and I didn’t like what I saw.
There was only one way to change that reputation, and though it wasn’t my first choice for a reboot, the reception would be a golden opportunity to start. George was right; I wasn’t likely to meet the man of my dreams, but I never would if I didn’t get out there and try. Besides, my parents and their legacy deserved an honest attempt.
I turned and glanced at the huge, ornate matching paintings of my fathers hanging on the opposite wall in shining golden frames. Kings Pierce and Lawrence Kenway seemed to smile down at me, and I smiled back despite my sudden nerves.
“Well, wish me luck, guys. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”
3. Landon
“You look amazing, Landon,” Dad whispered as he admired the reflection of me in my new bank account-draining suit. Despite the crack that ran diagonally across the mirror hanging on the back of Dad’s bedroom door distorting my reflection, he wasn’t