How to Date a Prince, page 29
“Oh God, we’re trying to decide between gin sponsors…”
“Sounds tasty.”
“You’re just thinking of Thomas again—”
And we settle in for an evening of banter like it’s old times again, until exhaustion sets in and a familiar headache rolls in. But the pain is worth it to laugh with unbounded freedom again for a few hours with my best friend. And finally feel optimistic for once.
I don’t see the flood of notifications till the next morning.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Apparently, I’m a hit on social media. Who knew? My father is highly conflicted. It’s better, he tells me, looking pained, to release official photographs. My counterpoint is that it’s a genuine, relatable photo of me, and isn’t that part of this whole reaching out to the public campaign he put me on? With slightly less headfirst propulsion.
Scrolling is highly addictive. I follow, and then I’m followed by relatives, including my wild cousins. By comparison, with their party lifestyle well documented on social media, my photo is tame. To appease my father, the next post is a more conventional photo he takes of me out in the garden, bundled up for a walk in the cool November morning.
On Sunday, I notice Adam’s feed shows a view from a plane window with a pretty sunrise or sunset over broken clouds. But is that from Friday? Consternation follows. There’re no posts from Thomas.
When Adam posts later that day, a shot of New York by air, captioned, “No place like home. Not quite ruby slippers,” and a shot of his feet in trainers up on a suitcase.
What does this mean? Shouldn’t Adam be in London with Thomas for the tell-all finale tomorrow night?
Unsure of what to do, I call Katie to complete our analysis since she’s savvy with social media and I’m not.
“Oooh,” she says. “I’m swiping through right now. Trouble in paradise. Look, if you go back a few weeks, there’re plenty of photos of Adam with Thomas. But in the last while, there aren’t any together.”
“Well, he’s been in London, and Adam’s been in New York.” I run a hand through my hair, gazing at my reflection in a mirror. The mirror version of me has no answers. Previously, I was fussing over what to wear to the show tomorrow. “A geography problem.”
“Yes, but what about the last couple of days?” Katie asks. “Explain that. There’re no photos of them together.”
“That’s why I called you. What do you think? Should I call him?”
There’s a long pause on the line.
“Katie? Are you still there?”
“Didn’t you end things because you’re a prince and you claimed incompatible lifestyles?”
“Maybe I had a change of heart?” I try.
More silence.
“Maybe… well, the truth is, my heart didn’t change,” I admit. “And yes, I’m still a prince. But what if there’s a way to make this work? I mean, who better than someone who can critique the monarchy and help make things better? What if we can date in public? Or try, if he’s open to it? He could tell me to fuck off. Which, fair.” I swallow hard. “I need to tell my father. It’s important he knows before the show airs.”
“This is a whirlwind,” Katie says, holding her head between her hands. “I need a minute. And probably a strong drink.”
“Katie. Red alert. I’m… well, I’m in love with him. Like, really, seriously in love with him,” I say softly, deciding to put it all out for her. I don’t dare mention I could see myself marrying Thomas one day, if he wanted to get married. It’s a private daydream, being with him, showing him my favorite places in the world, and him showing me his, and meeting his family, and learning about everything that matters to him. “I have been for a while. But I’ve been scared to do anything about it. Because of… well, everything. And then he moved on in the meantime. And I tried to do the same, without luck. I mean, Lady Laura. Because he’s impossible to forget.”
“Whatever Thomas is doing, he’s on the rebound from you. You could try more dates—”
“I’ve dated. Marriageable women, remember?”
She groans. “That’s a political campaign, not any sort of affairs of the heart. Okay. Let’s back up a minute.”
Now, it’s my turn to wait patiently.
“You’re in love with him,” she repeats belatedly.
“Yes. I know it’s not convenient, or what my father wants, or what’s expected. But it’s how I feel. And, well, maybe Thomas was with Adam because Thomas didn’t want to be alone.” I draw in a deep breath. “Should I call him?”
“Wait,” says Katie decisively. “You’ll see him tomorrow night. You can get a better read of what’s going on in person.”
“Okay. Thanks. Tomorrow.” I suppose I can try some patience on for size, but it doesn’t come so readily.
We hang up, and I go see my father in his study. He shuts off his latest reality program, something with pottery—which I approve of—and sit down on the other sofa while our aged ancestors look on. They’re everywhere, like a nostalgic wallpaper, except with more bling frames and extravagant clothes. Hold on, I think at them, you’re in for a moment.
“Auggie.”
I gaze at my father, a little nervous, but I press on. “I want to talk to you about tomorrow night’s show.”
“Are you prepared?”
“As prepared as I can be.” I shrug. “I want to talk to you because you may hear some things you may not expect to hear from me.”
My father lifts a regal eyebrow at me. “Oh?”
How can such a simple word be imbued with such meaning?
“And whatever happens, I want you to know I take my responsibilities very seriously. But I need to live on my own terms. Otherwise, you may as well put me up in the Tower too.”
He frowns. “What are you saying?”
I gaze at him. I stop myself from fidgeting with my signet ring. The ancestors are quiet too.
“I’m gay, Father. I’ve always been gay. I always will be gay.”
He sighs, drumming his fingers on the armrest of the pinstriped sofa he sits on. “Auggie. Please. We discussed this the other day.”
“It’s not a negotiation, for the record.” I stare him down.
Pained, he rubs his face with his hands. “Are you… quite certain?”
Taken aback, I laugh. Whatever response I expected, that wasn’t it. “Yes, Father. Quite. And I don’t know what it means for the monarchy. I agree it would be easier if I was straight, but I’m not. It probably means no children from me. I don’t know. But nearly splitting my head open on a fence helped me put things in perspective, trying to get back to some kind of regular life or finding my new normal. All this to say: I’m done with pretending I’m someone I’m not.”
He chews his lip, nodding slowly. “I see.”
“Since I’m alive… I need to live. I need to be free to do that,” I say softly, searching his eyes, hoping he can truly see me. “Do you understand?”
He nods, impossible to read. He doesn’t look happy. “You’re not abdicating.”
“I’m not abdicating. I told you already. I’ve booked my calendar with events through the fall and into the winter. I’m committed to the Crown.” I hold his gaze. He gazes back, unflinching. “Father, I’m gay, and I’m in love with Thomas Golden.”
He gasps. My father stares at me like I personally have brought the kingdom to ruin. “Auggie—that’s impossible!”
“I’m in love, and the nation will hear about me being gay and in love with Thomas tomorrow night in the live audience for Renaissance Man.”
He still stares. Harder.
“I don’t know if Thomas loves me back or if there’s a chance to be together, which I would love, but he’s a good man. I have to take the risk of being honest with him and the world about who I am. Thomas has a great heart. And he sees me. Who I really am. And I see him. And he means everything to me.” I pause for a breath. “You were in love with Mum. You know how love feels. Don’t you want that for me too?”
Father’s pale again as he grips his remote.
“I’ll always love you, Father. Even if we don’t agree on some things.”
“I love you too, son,” he says finally. “More than anything else. You, Anne, and your mum. Even if I’m… concerned, shall we say. An anti-monarchist of any gender isn’t who I would want my son to fall in love with. Then again, I remember falling in love with your mother, and the scandal that brought, since some people didn’t believe she was a suitable match. But what we did believe in was love. And each other...” He falls quiet.
My eyes flood then. I wipe them with the cuff of my sleeve.
His eyes well up slightly too, and then he looks away. “I’ll be watching tomorrow night. To see you. And this man you’ve fallen in love with.”
“Thanks,” I whisper.
And I realize then that he watches all the shows he does as an escape, in the absence of my mother, to fill the space in his heart she left behind. It explains the workaholism too.
But that means maybe there’s also a space for me to build a relationship with my father that hasn’t existed before. Like there’s some kind of renewal for both of us, to find a way to truly know each other.
Chapter Forty
Apparently, being a prince means you get your own private dressing room. The rest of the Renaissance Man cast cool their heels in the green room before our call. When I see a couple of the men backstage, like Jax and David, I get warm hellos and people are thrilled to see me upright after the accident.
My stomach dances with all the butterflies and then some, both for the live show and more so at knowing I’ll see Thomas tonight. I adjust my collar, tug at my jacket, check myself out on my phone camera. I check my messages again. I’m one hundred percent nerves.
We gather backstage in the wings. From here, I see the podium seating onstage under the dazzle of the stage lights. There’s the din of the audience, the chatter backstage. My senses are already overloaded. I draw in another deep breath to steady myself.
And I see Thomas out of the corner of my eye, and I swear I stop breathing.
He’s on the other side of the men. I can’t get to him easily. Plus, he’s deep in conversation with Travis. When it’s time, we file out to the studio at the stage manager’s cue as the audience roars. Two rows of five chairs face the waiting studio audience.
I’m the last to walk out on stage. To my surprise, I get a standing ovation and cheers from the audience. I squint under the bright lights and wave, smiling. Taken aback, I’m startled by the intensity of their response at seeing me. I pause, nodding in acknowledgment with another wave before I turn to sit.
And my heart stops when I see my father and Anne in the audience, in their own special section to the side. My father meets my gaze, a flicker of a smile across his lips. I could weep with relief at the sight of him, my heart pounding with the shock.
When I turn to sit, the only remaining chair is beside Thomas.
He gazes at me with a slight smile on his lips, but his eyes are shadowed, even under the makeup. I take a seat and murmur hello. I receive an unintelligible murmur back, but even so, it’s thrilling. Because Thomas. I shiver.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final episode of Renaissance Man, where we announce the winner, along with the long-awaited final episode, the tell-all. We’re thrilled to welcome Prince Augustus back after his dreadful accident while filming. We are all very pleased to see you, Your Royal Highness,” Colin enthuses. More thundering applause and cheers follow. I blink and grin under the lights.
Everyone’s happy except Wilson, I’m sure. And as my guts twist, I can’t read Thomas.
The stage lights are dazzling, which guarantees a headache later. I try to ignore the lights and focus on Thomas. He is so close I could touch him.
The producers have put together a reel with highlights and lowlights of the ten weeks of filming with each contestant. Wilson is third from the end, and he basks in the mixed applause and jeers he gets from the audience, everyone’s favorite villain, it turns out. It turns out he’s given plenty of footage of him being an arse to everyone, and it’s implied that he’s the one responsible for ruining my pottery.
“I said what I said,” says Wilson, grinning and looking defiant. “It is what it is.”
“Anything else aside from that? Any regrets?” Colin asks. “It’s down to you and Thomas as the last men standing.”
“That I don’t have a million pounds already in my bank account.”
“We shall see.” Colin smiles, then breezes over to me. “Auggie, you’ve had a time.”
“You could say,” I concede, smiling. That earns laughter from the audience.
“I’m very glad you’ve recovered enough to join us. You gave us all—and the world—such a fright.” With that, they start to replay the footage of the accident. Which is… well, like watching an accident. Except in slow motion on the big screen for the studio audience. I wince, watching as my previously recorded voice-over comes on from a couple of weeks back.
“Everyone knows what happened, now. But I would do it again in a heartbeat to keep Thomas safe. I would do it again to protect anyone, but it had special meaning to me, protecting Thomas. Because I’ve never met anyone like him. And he’s been so important to me, through the show and after I was injured.”
Colin watches me as I listen. The audience is rapt, watching the footage, which shifts to Thomas crawling over. It could be my imagination, but I swear he’s leaning in towards me from his seat.
“Because Thomas has shown me what true bravery is. How to live and how to feel and how to take chances. I learned a lot about taking chances from him.” Thomas is on-screen, yelling soundlessly for the medics. “And if I’m lucky, maybe there’ll be another chance, another time to open our hearts. Because I love him.”
The video stops.
Colin focuses on me. “Auggie, would you care to elaborate?”
I give Thomas a sidelong glance. His green eyes are wide, and he glances over at me searchingly before speaking.
“I mean…” I gaze at Thomas instead of Colin. And the way Thomas looks back at me, like I’m the only one in the room with him, his expression soft, is absolutely everything. And I know for real this time he’s leaning close to me. Then, I take a breath and jump off a cliff because I can’t go back to how I have lived in the shadows. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way. He’s been public about his identity, his attraction to men. “Well, I fell in love. And things happened. The concussion and neck injury and broken wrist and ribs, obviously. And my own anxieties and my reality too. But being ill, having new limits, it gave me a lot of time to think about what really matters. Which is love.”
Thomas stares at me, brightening in an instant. It’s nothing I didn’t say the other day. It’s quite another to say it in front of an audience. I chew my lip, overcome with nerves. I cover my mic for a moment.
“I love you so much.” The words tumble out. “And I know it’s too late, but I had to say it because you’ll always be important to me, after what we’ve been through, and I want to find a way to make it work—”
And then Thomas leans closer. And I catch his face between my hands and give him a lingering kiss. Blood rushes in my ears as he brushes his warm lips with mine again, yielding and delicious. I shudder with want. When we straighten, my heart beats so loudly everyone must hear it.
And then that’s when I realize the audience roars with their cheers. Even Colin has tears in his eyes.
“My,” Colin says finally, blinking. “The lights are very bright all of a sudden in here, aren’t they?”
And Thomas and I look at each other, grinning like fools. I interlace my fingers with his on my thigh.
“Thomas, what do you say?” Colin dares ask. I swear everyone’s holding their breath—including and especially me.
“I love you too, Auggie,” he says, his voice unsteady. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you. I wanted to tell you. I was scared to tell you. But I’m in love with you too.”
The crowd roars again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my father dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief.
Thomas and I are transfixed by each other when Colin finally brings us back to focus on him. They play the segment they showed me several weeks ago, with Thomas and me first together in the kitchen on badger watch to our sunset walk and even a hint of what happened in the pottery bothy. But Thomas and I barely watch, gazing at each other, our hearts shown to the world. I soar beside him. He squeezes my hand.
“I’m not sure how we carry on from that, but as they say, the show goes on. Gentlemen.”
They play Thomas’ reel, ending with him crouched over me amid the medics. On the video, Thomas speaks. “It was the worst moment of my life, seeing Auggie like that. I regret everything I did that led up to him being injured. If I hadn’t fallen off my horse, Auggie wouldn’t have tried to save me, and he wouldn’t have been hurt.”
“You’re not to blame for what happened, Thomas,” Colin says. “It was an accident.”
“I still feel responsible,” says Thomas.
I squeeze his fingers. I barely hear what he says for the next while, recapping the rivalry between Thomas and Wilson as the show progresses. Then, Colin calls them over to stand with him.
“Gentlemen, we’ve come to the other thrilling finale we’ve all been waiting for: who will win the million pounds? To recap, Thomas and Wilson both won an equal number of challenges. But given gentlemanly conduct and good sportsmanship, we are thrilled to announce Thomas Golden is our winning Renaissance Man, taking home the million-pound prize.”
Thomas looks startled across the stage. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Colin chuckles. “Tell us, what will you do with the prize money?”
“I’ll… I’ll need some time to figure that out. It could go a long way to support the launch of my new app. But I also want to give back because of everything that’s happened. It’s far more than I ever bargained on when I agreed to join Renaissance Man. I’ve had huge ups and downs throughout. It really made me question what matters. Like Auggie said, it’s about love.”
