At 10:00 a.m., I’m seated at a table in front of a selection of journalists whom the palace trusts more or less to behave. I’ve dressed in a crisp black suit, arranged my hair just so like my stylist would approve of, and put on my favorite cologne for extra luck. The only thing I’m missing is a magical reputation makeover where all my worries disappear. And in my dreams—Stefanos. But today is one step closer to making the reputation makeover happen, at least.
“Good morning,” I say into the mic in front of me, squinting at the onslaught of lights from cameras. I didn’t bring any notes, going over my brief speech last night in the mirror alone. “Thank you all for being here today on short notice and on a Saturday. I want to address recent events in Greece that I’m sure you’re all aware of where Prince Stefanos of Greece and I were rescued from a yacht disaster I caused, with regrets. I wish to warmly thank the coast guard and the Greek authorities for helping us so efficiently and for spearheading the cleanup efforts.”
I draw a deep breath and smooth the cuff of my suit jacket. When I rehearsed this in my head last night, I didn’t feel any nerves, but today, I’m trying to hide that I’m practically vibrating with them.
“Like everyone, I’m grateful the environmental impacts weren’t as bad as they could be after the accident, although I appreciate far from ideal. Coral reefs are special environments, which are under threat from boating and other factors. I want to announce today that I will make a donation of ten thousand euros towards the Greek Islands Coral Reef Protection Society to help keep these environments safe and special. I want to apologize formally to Prince Stefanos, the Greek Royal Family, and also to the Greek authorities for the trouble I’ve caused. Thank you.”
I answer a couple of questions amid the dazzle of lights. It kind of has an interrogation sort of energy. But I keep my poise and smile for the cameras as if I do this all the time.
“How do you know Prince Stefanos?” a reporter asks.
My lips twitch ever so slightly, thinking back to our conversation. “Stefanos is my friend.”
“And this accident wasn’t his fault?” another reporter asks.
“No, this wasn’t his fault,” I acknowledge with indisputable authority. “It’s mine.”
Another reporter at the back of the room speaks up. “Were you both drinking at the time?”
“No one was drinking any alcohol at the time of the accident,” I assure them.
Someone tries to ask me about Aidan, but I dodge the question in the media melee and pretend I didn’t hear it. Hans sweeps in to wrap up the session.
By the time I finish, I’m wiped out. I excuse myself. As soon as I can get back to my room, I change and hit the palace gym to reset in a session to work off my nerves. And I hope the press conference does a little to put things right again.
* * *
Later that night, after spending the rest of the day with Mamma, as I’m being driven across Copenhagen to meet up with friends, my phone chimes with a text from Stefanos. In response, my heart beats double time. I adjust the collar of my shirt as I read, holding my breath.
I saw you on the news today. You didn’t need to do what you did x
I wanted to. I still feel terrible about what happened. And leaving you alone with it all x
It wasn’t only your fault for the record. And the charity donation was a great idea. I should do the same
Thanks. It’s the least I can do. I actually want to do more like apologize in person to your father
Appreciate the thought but probably not a good idea right now
Another time
I fidget with my phone. If only there could be another time. What I’d give for another time to happen. Shaking my head, all the wishes in the universe aren’t changing the disaster or the fact that I’m going to be the King any day now.
Talking in person is so much easier than texting.
Even so, I can’t help the goose bumps under my clothes. Because Stefanos. If only this yacht thing hadn’t happened. Then again, even if it hadn’t, there’s still the whole problem that Stefanos is also a royal. He’s definitely not an option for a fling. And I mean, I don’t know if he feels the same way or shares in my indulgent fantasies.
I ruined the small chance with him, anyway.
Things are too far gone now, our paths too different. Yet I don’t want to accept this truth, even though it’s logical and clear to see. Being stubborn can be both my best and worst trait.
Then Stefanos sends another text.
I wish things were different too. I had fun with you till the accident happened
I swallow hard. Well. That’s not helping the situation one bit. But my heart leaps at the confession from Stefanos. Ignoring reason and any sense of self preservation, I message him back right away.
I had fun with you too x
