Chapter 16: Milos

“Wake up you idiot,” Brat said as he kicked my chair on the plane. “We have landed. Let’s get inside before your mother sees you.”

“That’s no way to talk to a prince,” I said with slurred words.

“When you decide to be a prince, I will start treating you as one,” Brat replied.

I always liked how Brat was straightforward with no bullshit. He and Adriana were similar in that regard, not letting my royal status bother them in the least.

I grabbed my bag and wobbled down the stairs, glad to see there was a car to drive us to the palace. Brat could be harsh, and I half expected to have to walk back. When we were inside the car, Brat took his gloves off and set his hands on his lap, obviously deciding that he was going to get to the bottom of everything. He cleared his throat and looked back out the window.

“What was it this time? Your father? Your mother? Or did you just feel like getting completely wasted, embarrassing our kingdom further, and leaving everyone in suspense?”

“It was nothing, just something with Adriana,” I mumbled.

“Milos,” Brat said. He leaned forward a bit. “You are letting down your mother, your country, and your pretty little bride.”

“It’s a fake marriage, or did you forget, too?”

“Too? Who else forgot? Adriana, a young girl swept up in a fairy tale by a toad that only half resembles a prince? Or perhaps you, who figured out she is more than what she seems?”

“A little bit of both, I suppose,” I said.

“Milos, it’s okay to care for this woman,” Brat replied. “You need to go to her and make this all right.”

“I know,” I sighed, my head spinning.

The car pulled up out front, and Brat helped me into the castle and to my wing without many people noticing. The servants weren’t expecting to see me, so my wing was usually pretty empty. When we got inside, Brat sat me down in a chair and started ordering everything he could to get me sobered up. I just sat there and stared out the window, trying to get my vision to focus, but feeling too swamped by alcohol to function properly.

“Bring him coffee and some food,” Brat told the servants. “Not just any food, a good hearty meal that will soak up some of that liquor. And keep the coffee coming.”

They all bowed to Brat’s requests, making me realize what a good king he would have been, had he been born into my place. A week ago, I would have fought this tooth and nail, but at that moment, I was tired of fighting it. I knew I had to make things right with this girl, and I knew I had to step up. First, however, I needed to get sober.

After the meal and the hot coffee, I was feeling much better, and my mind had cleared. I jumped in the shower to wash the stench of a week’s worth of booze and strippers from my body, before I dressed. I hoped that I hadn’t gone so far off that Adriana could never forgive me, even though I understood there may be no way for her ever to trust me again. I realized that it wasn’t about the contract. I really did care for this girl, more than anything. When I was done and dressed, I pushed down my nerves and made my way to Adriana’s wing to grovel and attempt to get her back.

However, when I got there, there was no one around. I thought it strange that the guards weren’t on duty at her doors like normal. I pushed through into the sitting area and back to her room. She was nowhere to be found, and her things were no longer in her cabinet. Her bed had been made and looked as if no one had slept there for days.

I picked up the wedding picture my mother had given Adriana from the nightstand and stared down at our happy faces. I realized I actually looked happy in that picture, and not just for the audience. The horses were out for their normal runs and exercise with the trainers, and I could see Adriana’s horse trotting alone through the field. I thought she might have gone out to the house in the country for some rest and peace, so I walked from the room and toward the stables. As I turned the corner, I found my mother standing in the hallway looking at the flowers.

“There you are,” she said wearily. “I have been looking all over for you.”

“Mother, have you seen Adriana? I have something important to speak to her about.” I wanted to get to the stables.

“She isn’t here. Her mother fell ill and she headed to Liverpool. Here, she left this for you.”

I looked down at the letter my mother had pulled from her pocket, and I knew this wasn’t going to be a fairy tale ending. I smiled and bowed my head as my mother moved through the hall and out the doors to the gardens. She patted me on the shoulder as she passed, obviously seeing the distraught look I was wearing. I walked slowly and smiled at the nobles lingering in the halls, before bolting from the area and running all the way to my room. I sat down at the table and opened the letter.

Milos,

It is no surprise that this whole arrangement is not working out. I cannot stand by and allow myself to be degraded and embarrassed on a regular basis. I need some time. I will stay your wife on paper, but I will not be living in the castle any longer. I understand if this affects my payment, but at this point, I have found I have no other choices.

I wish you all the luck in the world,

Adriana

I folded the piece of paper and set it on the table with a feeling of sickness deep in my stomach. She was gone, and I had been the one to completely destroy her. I leaned back in the chair and stared out as clouds moved closer to the castle. At that moment, I felt completely lost, completely done, and with very little understanding of what to do next. I couldn’t believe I had not only screwed up my place in this Kingdom so badly, but I had purposely hurt the first woman I ever really had feelings for. I sank down in my chair, taking what little pride I had left down with me.

For days, I sat in my room, refusing any visitors, taking my meals in solace, and staring out at the grim stormy sky. It felt like the weather was mocking me, but I just didn’t give a damn. Adriana had been the light in my life I never knew I needed, and I had extinguished it before even understanding what it was.

She haunted my mind at every turn, and even sleep eluded me. I would wander the halls of the castle at night like a ghost, remembering everything from my childhood and feeling ashamed at the man I had become. It had become a dark and lonely existence, and I could tell that even my mother did not know how to help me. Instead, she left me to my thoughts, with the hope that eventually I would find the solution and bring myself back up from the depths.

Mother had always told me that a true king could pull himself from any emotion, any vice, and any situation for the betterment of his kingdom and his people. For some reason, even after all I had done, she still felt that those attributes were somewhere inside of me, waiting to get out. I, however, had never felt confident in the idea that I could be a great king or a good husband and father. So, instead of facing those fears with the tenacity of the royal blood that flowed through my veins, I fled, seeking refuge in the dark dirty crevasses of strip clubs, bars, and loose women. It was almost as if all these years I had pushed the thought away, no longer wanting to even try to be the man my mother, and now Adriana, knew I could be. The fear was stifling, and when it hit me, I was almost paralyzed, grasping at anything I could to take the feeling away, not caring who it affected.

Adriana had given it a good try, a better try than almost anyone else in my life. She didn’t care about my wealth or crown. She cared about me. I hadn’t even realized until that moment that her agreement to the contract was less about money and more about the man she saw during the few moments that I opened up and talked about myself. The moments where I had let down my guard and allowed myself to be an actual human, and not just some spoiled rich asshole that cared very little for others. She had seen something in me that was impossible to see in myself.

After several days had passed, I found myself staring out the window, something that had become routine for me. I would stare off into the country, thoughts banging against my brain, hoping to find some kind of answer in the darkness beyond the castle. Standing from my chair, I started to pace around the room. I felt the anxiousness in my feet and chest, and as I approached the cupboard, I stopped, running my hand across the bottle of whiskey. It had been staring me in the face for days, but I had managed to keep myself from indulging, knowing I would just feel worse in the end. At that point, however, my motto seemed to be, fuck it, so I grabbed a glass and poured myself two fingers. Had I just stopped after that, I might have actually begun to feel better, but I always had an issue with excess, and to excess was exactly where I took the drinking.

One glass turned to two, and two to three, and before I knew it, the bottle was emptied. I called the servants to bring me more, and even though I could see the knowing look in their eye, they did their duty and brought me what I needed. The thoughts that seeped into my brain when the glasses became full then empty was torturous, and I couldn’t get Adriana out of my mind. Her beautiful smile, her luscious lips, and her understanding nature eventually began to feel as unreal as my ability to bring her back.

My life had been a succession of events starting at childhood and raging through the years. My father’s death had not even begun to simmer in my chest when I met Adriana, and I knew that his death was something I was pushing back against. Adriana gave me relief where no bottle could, but because I let my fears drive me to a darker place, I completely destroyed the good in her, taking myself down with it.

Back into the twisting and turning hell of drinking, I threw myself, not finding any more solace in the spinning of the room than I did in the passing clouds, but at least I had found a cure to my insomnia. My despair switched between utter hopelessness and anger, and eventually many of the servants refused to come to my chambers for fear that they would find a glass thrown at their head. Everything was starting to spin out of control, and even though I wasn’t on a plane to some city with clubs and strippers, the loneliness of my room and the unforgiving depth of the bottle started to become worse than the paparazzi on the doorstep.