There’s a quick knock at the door and Winston pops his head in. “Ms. Wheeler, your sister and friend are here. I’ve directed them to the Gold Suite, however—”
“Wren!” Brooke elbows her way past Winston and into the room, glaring daggers at me. “What is going on? Who in the fu—” She sees half the royal family and her words die in her throat.
Silence reverberates through the room.
“Hey, Brooke,” the King says, grinning widely. “Fancy a cuppa?”
Brooke goes slack-jawed at being personally addressed by Theo. “Apologies, Your Majesty,” she says, sinking into a quick curtsy. I’m shocked she knows how to do that.
“Take a cue from your sister—there’s no need to curtsy in here,” Theo says.
“Speak for yourself,” Victoria says without looking up from her phone. “Maybe I want the Americans to curtsy for me.”
“Good luck with that. If there’s one thing I know about Wren, it’s that she doesn’t give a shit about my title, and she willnevercurtsy.” He winks at me, charm oozing off him again. “That’s why we’re friends.” He tips back another drink.
And with that, I’ve officially run out of the mental capacity for this conversation. “I’m going to leave.”
Theo steps toward me. “I can show you to your room.”
“I’ll find it.”
“It’s right next door.”
“Easy enough. Knock on the wall three times when I’m allowed to leave.” I whistle for Comet to follow me.
He stands, forcing Victoria off his stomach, and trots to my side, licking my hand once to say hello. “Can I bring him to my room?”
Theo’s eyes dart to his sister. She frowns. “I guess technically he’s yours,” Victoria says begrudgingly.
“Technically, he is! Thank you for remembering.” I push Brooke between the shoulder blades, steering her out of the room.
“Teenagers,” Winston mutters under his breath as he returns my phone on our way out of the suite.
The door next to Theo’s is already open, and Naomi is standing with her arms crossed in the open doorway. She frowns, clearly annoyed at having missed out on meeting Theo. I lock the door behind the three of us and scan our room. (Nicer than a Holiday Inn, but not as nice as Theo’s room.) Brooke and Comet eye each other as he sniffs her from toe to butt.
“This is the dog?”
“That’s him.”
“His eyes aren’t blue.”
I slant her a look. “It wasn’t about the dog.”
“No shit, Wren! I was scared out of my mind! Naomi shows up in some James Bond car outside the crepe restaurant and insists I get in! I thought we were beingTaken!”
“Okay, relax!” I hold up a hand. “No one is being abducted. We’re heretemporarilybecause some paparazzi took pictures of Theo and me. They’re already online.”
Naomi whips out her phone and starts scrolling. “‘Teen King High on Love in Toronto’s High Park’!” She screams in delight. “It says that he was caught snogging a mysterious redhead while he was supposed to be on royal tour. Oooh, it sounds like he might be in trouble.”
“‘Snogging’?” I shriek, snatching the phone to scroll through the rest of the pictures. “All we did was hug. That’s a stretch!”
“‘Redhead’ is a stretch,” Naomi muses.
“Will someone please explain to me what is going on?” Brooke demands, and it’s a reminder that Theo’s not the only one who’s been keeping secrets from his siblings.
“Don’t think you can put this one off any longer,” Naomi says, kicking off her shoes and sinking onto one of the beds, still scrolling.
When Theo and I were on the run in Europe, I’d told my family the bare minimum: that I’d met someone who owned a private plane and agreed to let me use it. Other than Naomi, no one knows that I spent Comet Week with Theo, despite a viral video of us from a train station that showed my blurry profile traveling with the runaway prince. I was worried someone from home would recognize me, but I didn’t need to be. I had no connection to the royal family, and there was too much going on for anyone from Chicago to care who Prince Theo was spending his last days with. Brooke had even seen our marriage certificate and brushed it off as a joke.
