The motorcycle club is, thankfully, willing to let the duo go without too many questions. Matt loads Victoria up onto his motorcycle, and they rip away from the beach. Before long, he pulls over at gas station to refill his tank and get a floral print sarong for Victoria to wear underneath the leather jacket.

 

After the stop, they head out again. The beach is almost five hours away from Matt's apartment. It's a long drive, but he doesn't dare stop, lest an issue arise with Victoria's hardly decent form.

 

She sits behind him, forehead pressed against Matt's shoulder. Her fingers keep a tight grip on his leather vest, which has been dried by the whipping winds. It's still a strange thing, having the motorcycle between her thighs and Matt so close to her again.

 

Strange but not bad.

 

Victoria has to shout to be heard. “I'm so tired!”

 

“I know, sweet cheeks. Just a little bit longer,” shouts Matt, when he finally rips onto his road. Unlike the high-end buildings near the suite and the crowded boardwalk near the beach, this part of town is rundown and worn out.

 

The parking lot by the apartment building is empty. It's an old thing, with cracked windows and push doors at the front. Matt makes sure to keep an arm on Victoria as they head up the stairs because this apartment isn't the nicest part of town, and Victoria is a truly beautiful woman.

 

His apartment is on the third floor. It's messy. Matt laughs when he pushes open the door. “Sorry, sweet cheeks. I haven't been home in a while. Unlike you, I don't have any housekeepers to make sure the place looks nice when we get back here.”

 

“I love it,” says Victoria. “I told you that before, Matt, and I still stand by it. This apartment is so much better than anywhere else that I've ever stayed.”

 

“I don't believe that for a moment,” says Matt, making sure to lock the door behind them. He kicks off his boots and shrugs out of his leather vest. It gets tossed in the general direction as the dirty laundry pile, which is on the borderline between living area and kitchen.

 

The house is dirty, and it smells sort of stale. Matt pushes open the lone window in the apartment. It leads out into the alleyway. There's a dog rooting around in the garbage cans.

 

“But I appreciate the comment,” says Matt. He turns around, and the smile on his face feels easy.

 

There's nothing good about the apartment, but it looks a little brighter with Victoria standing inside those chipping walls. She brushes a stray lock of hair behind one ear. “Thank you for coming for me.”

 

“Of course I came for you! Did you really think I wouldn't?”

 

“I didn't think you knew I was leaving,” admits Victoria. “I didn't think anyone did.”

 

“I didn't,” says Matt, “not until I stopped by your suite. But then, you were already gone. I went off to the airport, but you weren't there either. They said you had missed your flight.”

 

“I never made it to the airport. They grabbed me outside of the suite.” Victoria sits down on Matt's ripped-up couch. “It was horrible, Matt. I thought I was a goner! Worse than that, I didn't think anyone would care.”

 

Matt sits down next to Victoria and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Of course people would care!”

 

“Who? My parents don't. They don't even care that I haven't landed in Vertsea! And the people—they've turned their backs on me.”

 

“I care!”

 

Victoria shakes her head. “I know you said wonderful things, Matt. But I also know you were saying them because that's the sort of person you are. No matter how tough you try to act, you're a good person. You stepped up because that's what I needed you to do. I know you never really wanted a wife or a child. That's not the sort of person you are.”

 

Her words astonish Matt.

 

“You're a free spirit. You're not meant to be tied down by anything or anyone, Matt. That's just not who you are. I understand,” says Victoria. “I've spent my entire life hooked down, held in place by the rulings of my parents and my people. It's hard, having responsibilities, having to live up to so many expectations.”

 

Matt demands, “Are you saying I'm not good enough for that?”

 

“Heavens, no! I'm just saying…” Victoria pauses, wiping at her face with her palms. By now, the entire left side of her face is a vivid mess of black, purple, gray, and blue. Traces of yellow streak up towards her nose. “It's different. It's a different sort of life than what you're used to. It's a different sort of life than anything that you've ever had before or ever wanted.”

 

“Victoria,” says Matt. “I might not have wanted a life like this in the past but truly, you're the most important thing to me now. I love you, and I love our child.”

 

It's been a very long day. There isn't a soul around that could begrudge Victoria bursting into tears, turning, and draping herself over the biker that sits beside her. She sobs and shakes and be moans the truth, saying, “I love you too,” over and over again.

 

Eventually, the young princess cries herself to sleep.

 

Eventually, Matt is the only one awake in his dark and dreary apartment.

 

# # #

 

When Victoria does wake up, she finds herself alone on the couch. A blanket has been draped over her. It smells like nicotine and cheap dollar store detergent. She pulls it up around her chin, humming happily as she settles back down under it.

 

Matt can hear her moving around. He leans over the back of the couch and asks, “Are you finally up?”

 

“Maybe,” answers Victoria, rolling onto her back so she can stare up at him. “What time is it?”

 

“No clue,” admits Matt. “My clocks haven't worked in years, and I turned the phone off so it didn't wake you.”

 

“You turned it off because you didn't want to talk to anyone.”

 

“That might be true. But I also didn't want it to wake you.”

 

“At least you're honest,” says Victoria. She yawns, tongue sticking out and curling up towards her upper lip. “It could be worse.”

 

“You're always looking on the upside, huh?”

 

“It's the only place left to go, somedays.”

 

“For a princess, you're pretty smart. I guess the royal life isn't much like the books, is it?”

 

Victoria closes her eyes. She can still picture the notes that her mother left for her.

 

Victoria rolls over, pressing her face against the back of the couch. “No, it's not. It's nothing like the movies or the books. But then, is any form of life as good as the movies? Nothing plays out like the books. It's just...it's all hard, Matt. It's a mess of concierge meetings, rules, tutoring, and dignitaries. There's no end to how you have to act and never a break from having to hold yourself up straight.”

 

The people are cruel, always. And so Victoria always looks up to the bright side—the next step, the next day, the next moment. She has always hoped for ever after but never dared to dream of happily getting there.

 

These past few weeks, they've just proven to her that things really aren't what they seem. Nothing is like the books. Victoria draws in a deep breath.

 

Matt walks around the side of the couch. He sits down on the arm of the couch, pressing a hand to the side of Victoria's head. “Do you think it's still going to be a hard life?”

 

“I don't know,” admits Victoria. “I hope not, but I'm just not certain. We still have to figure out what we're going to do.”

 

“We're going to get married,” says Matt. “Isn't that obvious?”

 

Startled, Victoria sits up. “Do you mean that?”

 

Matt catches the young princess in a deep and passionate kiss. When they part, he says, “Of course I do! Just rest today. Tomorrow, I'll tell you all about my plans.”