I don’t see or hear from Alec for a couple of days, but I know that he’s busy. The local news station is constantly running interviews with him, and reports are ongoing about what the royal family is doing in preparation for the country’s upcoming annual Summer Festival. Claire explains to me that of the event celebrates the country’s independence and tradition. Even though Saintland is a relatively new nation, they established traditions early on, and the Summer Festival is one of them.

My heart beats faster and I get goose bumps when I see him onscreen, smiling widely at the citizens of Saintland who rush to shake his hand. Alec is the complete package. He’s so handsome, and his goodness and genuine rapport with people radiates from the TV screen. It makes my heart flutter to think that of all the people he meets and reporters he jokes with, I’m the one who knows Alec the animal, and how sexy and dirty he can be in the privacy of our bedroom.

I only wish that his father wasn’t a source of tension for him. During our last date, I could sense it in the stiffness of his shoulders and in his uptight expression.

Maybe this deluge of appearances is a sign that he’s smoothed things over with his father and brother.

I’m watching one of his interviews, recorded earlier in the day, and reveling in the gorgeous lines of Alec’s handsome face, when Claire arrives for the afternoon. She’s planned more shopping and a sightseeing venture outside the city.

When she enters my suite, I know immediately that something isn’t right by the worried look in her eyes.

Before I can question Claire, the TV interview with Alec ends abruptly, the announcer rising from her seat and shaking his hand, nonchalantly bridging the gap between segments with light commentary about how busy it is to be a member of the royal family.

“Good morning, Jessica,” Claire says, sitting down next to me on the sofa. “You look lovely. Are you ready for shopping and lunch?”

“Thank you,” I say, glancing down at the sleeveless dress I chose with the team yesterday. It’s a sea green color that sets off my deep auburn hair, which looks better than ever thanks to the attention of Saintland’s best stylists. I’ve never once colored it, but somehow in their hands the color is more vibrant, smooth and shiny.

But that, I remind myself sternly, is completely beside the point.

“I am,” I answer, “but I’m not going until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she protests, firing me an unconvincing smile.

“Claire. You’re supposed to be my faithful companion,” I say, looking at her with a hint of disappointment. “What’s going on? If it’s a personal matter, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s not that…”

“Spill.” I give her a pointed look.

Claire bites her lip and considers me for a long moment, as if trying to make up her mind about something. Then, pulling her oversize purse into her lap, she reaches into it to retrieve a small tablet that she carries everywhere with her. Scrolling her index finger across the screen, she begins to speak, seeming to take care with each word.

“Some news has broken about Prince Alexander that involves you.”

As her words sink in, my mind spins into overdrive. Why would people care about me? I’m a nobody here in Saintland. There was that photographer following us at the canal, but Alec didn’t seem very troubled by it. The media like to report on the comings and goings of the royal family, but there was nothing special or unusual about our walk together by the canal.

Have they dug up something from my past? I can’t think of anything that could be considered scandalous by the media, unless they’re opposed to changing degrees and transferring colleges.

What could it be?

“Claire, I don’t—.”

Claire swipes at the tablet a few more times, then turns the screen so I can see it..

The gossip site headline screams, “PALACE SCHISM OVER MYSTERY WOMAN.”

The photo of Alec and another man—the caption names him as the crown prince Marcus, his brother—has been shot from a high angle, looking down on them. Alec’s teeth are clenched, his face appears to be red with anger, and worst of all, he is holding Marcus up against what looks to be a garden wall by the collar of his jacket. .

Oh, shit.

Things must be worse between them than I thought, and it’s all because of me.

Shock must be evident on my face, because Claire tries to soften the blow. “They haven’t identified you by name,” she says, closing the tablet and patting me on the arm. “But I’m not sure what this will mean for…for the rest of your stay.” She finishes the comment rather lamely, and we sit in awkward silence for a few moments.

Then, Claire gets hold of herself, her demeanor reverting to its usual unfailing professionalism. “In the meantime,” she chirps brightly, “I have had no word from Prince Alexander that our schedule should change. Shall we shop?”

“Oh—sure,” I agree, even as the photograph and headline spin endlessly in my mind. What’s going to happen now? What if this is the end of Alec and me? What if I’m forced to leave Saintland?

Claire and I head off down to the street, crossing over a few blocks to reach the main shopping district in Sainthall. We browse through a few shops, but I don’t see anything on the racks that strikes my fancy.

This situation with Alec and his family is out of control, and something has to change.

Should that something be me?

Why is this so agonizing?

Because you love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone.

The answer rings out crystal clear like a bell in my mind, its chime resonating all the way to my heart..

It’s true.

But how can I force myself to fit in with Alec’s family?

When we’re back out on the street, my mind still reeling, I notice that the people on the sidewalk are casting me sidelong glances as I pass them by. Some of them look at me with expressions of pity and empathy, but others look…angry.

Maybe this is what happens when you take a risk on being with someone, when you say yes to a man without giving it thorough and proper consideration.

“Claire,” I say, my voice low. “They’re all looking at me, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” she says, not bothering to lie. “No one knows your name yet, but everyone has seen your face in the paper or on their computer screen.”

My instinct is to raise my chin and not let them disrupt my day but I’m back in boarding school, struggling to fit in; I’m back in New York, looking in from the outside on my rich friends as they lead dream lives.

“You know,” I say lightly, “I’m in the mood for an afternoon in. Do you have a favorite movie, Claire?”

“Of course,” she says, her eyes sweeping the sidewalk around us as she links her arm through my elbow. “Let’s order in a fancy lunch and we can watch a movie together.”

“Perfect.”

We turn down the next street, hurrying back toward the Northern Crown. My relief at leaving the busy street leaves me feeling weak in the knees.

But weakness does me no good. I need to brace myself for what’s coming.

I’m in too deep with Alec. I can’t deny it any longer. I’m in love.