Sage

“She’s out,” Dad announces after the door closes to the limo. We hadn’t even pulled out of the parking lot of the restaurant.

“What do you mean, she’s out? Can you even do that?” I ask.

“Now William, you just met her. I think she was a lovely young lady,” Mom says, patting my hand.

“No, Katheryn. She’s not of our stature, and you can tell she was raised subpar. Her father was a commoner of the worst kind.”

“You disgust me sometimes. You know that, right?” I shake my head in disbelief.

“Think what you want. I’m trying to save you from marrying the wrong person. You need someone to uphold our image, and she is not it.”

“What if I disagree?” I grit my teeth.

He eyes me, silently saying all I need to hear. I’ve lived under his thumb for years, but if this is going to be my last test of his authority, so be it. I’m up for the challenge.

“Who’s the last girl in line?” he asks my mother who glances at me with pity.

She’s on my side as much as she can be, but we both know my father. I wouldn't want her to get involved if it’s only going to cause her stress in the end.

She pulls out her phone where she reads off all the information given to us for my final option for a wife.

“Marie Dotson is twenty-two years old. She is studying art history at the university and is set to graduate next semester,” Mom reads from her biography.

Yes, a fucking bio, like they’re applying for a job instead of the role as my wife. She continues to read, but I tune her out. I don’t care what she has to say.

I’m handed my mom’s phone, so I can scroll through the pictures attached. They do nothing but fuel my fire. The perfect way her hair is curled in every image, even the one where she is supposedly horseback riding, is a joke. She’s got the picture-posing portion down to a science, which makes me want to vomit.

I close my eyelids in frustration and hand the phone to my dad who instantly states his approval. “She’s perfect. Now, why didn’t we start with her? Yes. She’s the one. Set up our meeting as soon as possible,” he demands of my mom.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? You want me with a woman like her?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Marie. She looks perfect for us.”

“For us? What about me? Isn’t this supposed to be my wife? I liked Everly, I want to get to know her better.”

“I’ve already stated my piece. Forget about that one. We are moving on.”

The glare my father gives me makes me want to yell in frustration, but instead I sit back in my seat and stare out the window, he’s not worth my anger. Instead, my mind is officially on my next task at hand.

* * *

Once we’re back at the house, I escape to my room and pick up my phone to call Logan, one of only two guys who truly know me. Joey is the other, and we’ve been friends since grade school. Our parents sent us to the same boarding school, and we’ve been thick as thieves ever since.

I have to be careful who I trust. I’ve become good at playing the game, and with their support, I’ve been able to live the life I desire for the last few years. Now, I’m hoping that won’t come to an end just because we’re back home.

“What’s up, bro?” he answers. “How bad was that one?”

“Actually, you’ll never believe it.”

“Fuck, dude, don’t tell me she’s hot and you’re willing to change who you are just so you can hit it?”

I laugh at his comment. “There is no woman that hot. How dare you doubt me. But no, she caught me off guard with how badly she didn’t want to be there.”

“Are you serious? So because this chick wasn’t begging you to lay pipe, you want her?”

“I don’t know if I want her, but I’m willing to at least try to figure it out.”

“Sage. Bro. I think you’ve lost your mind. If this chick doesn’t even like you, why would you try to enter a lifelong hell with her?”

Logan doesn’t believe in marriage—period. He’s had a rough life, which is why we latched onto each other the way we did. His father is a billionaire businessman who has multiple women coming and going from their home.

They hide what’s behind closed doors, and his mom puts on a happy face for everyone. Just like my family, image is all they care about.

“That’s the thing. Do you remember the girl I told you about at The Ridge?”

“Your spank-bank chick?”

I chuckle to myself. “Yes, well that’s who I met today.”

“No shit?”

“Yup. So now you know why I’m intrigued. I need you to do recon.”

“I’m on it. What are my orders, boss?”

I give him Everly’s address that I was able to get off her bio and tell him to follow her, and try to get as much intel on her as he can.

Now I have to sit back and wait for what he reports, then I’ll plan my next move.

* * *

Everly

Thank God that’s over with. I played my mom’s game. I curtsied when I should have, nodded politely when it fit, and kept the same fake grin plastered on my face.

It was awful.

I was surprised Sage wanted to hear about my volunteering, but of course, the king cut the conversation short. I can’t imagine anyone in that family stepping foot in an orphanage. They would stand out front, take their photo op and leave before any of the kids gave them diseases I’m sure they think they have.

Sage was at least more handsome in person. Okay, a lot more handsome. I never expected a tall, strapping man with sun kissed skin and hair that was mussed to perfection rather than slicked back. And that lean, athletic physique? Whoa. His muscular arms resembled that of someone who uses them for more than writing checks, and when I started to imagine those big, manly hands stroking up and down my body, I could practically feel the heat rise to my cheeks.

I’ll admit, I like what I saw, and my heart rate accelerated slightly as we walked closer. It was short-lived, though, when I remembered what was really at stake. I don’t care how handsome he is; I’m not going to marry someone for money or looks. I’ll marry for love, for passion, and nothing more.

I might as well become a nun now if I have to live the life of that high-browed family. Having to be on point at all times, pretending to be someone I’m not would be the death of me.

For years I’ve heard stories of his family, the events they attended, the portrait they portrayed. It all makes me sick. There’s a lot more they could do to help the people, but they don’t.

When they came to the orphanage I volunteer at, everyone was giddy with excitement, but I saw right through their pretentious bullshit. They were there for fifteen minutes, barely walking in the front door and leaving as soon as they could. One of the kids had a runny nose and the king wouldn’t get within five feet of him, actually asking them to keep the little boy in the other room.

When they left it was like they were never there. Nothing changed. They didn’t leave a donation or say they were going to build another much needed room to house more beds. They took their photos and left.

There are a lot of people struggling financially in Canterbury. Jobs are scarce and the odds of these kids getting adopted are slim to none since people are barely making ends meet as it is.

Canterbury used to export sugar cane, which grows in abundance on the island, but without any explanation, the factories were shut down years ago leaving many people out of work.

You’d think they would ask more of their royal leaders, demanding for them to work on making Canterbury a better place to live, but they don’t. Everyone looks up to them like they are Gods, putting them on pedestals I don’t think are anywhere near earned.

Since I’ve never heard any stories of Sage, I can only imagine his life is so mundane that even the media doesn’t care to cover it.

No thanks.

He played that role well, too. My God, when he pulled my hand up to his lips, the urge to hurl right there came on strong, taking me out of any lust filled thoughts I had. I mean, really? Who does that nowadays? It just further proved my point.

Boring.

We chatted for a few minutes, never leaving our parents side. You can imagine how awkward that was.

How they expected us to truly get to know each other with my mom kissing their ass on one side of me, and his sanctimonious dad eyeing me suspiciously—like I’m not good enough for his son—on the other, is beyond me.

King William’s right. I’m not good enough for him, and I’ll be the first to admit it.

I like to let loose, enjoy life to the fullest, and physically make a difference. That’s not a life I can lead in their family.

Now I have no choice but to sit back, waiting patiently, praying that I’m not the one he wants.

I tried to go home, but needing to rid my mind of Sage’s beautiful, hazel eyes—that kept playing with my mind—as well as his dad’s snobbish glares, I had to seek liquid moral support.

When I open the door to Huey’s, our local pub, it takes a minute for my vision to adjust to the dark setting in stark contrast to the bright, summer sun outside. Only a few people are scattered about, playing pool or sitting at the bar. I see Jeannine, my best friend, saving me a seat. I head her way, relieved she’s here so I can unload my troubles.

We met the first day of college and have been inseparable ever since. We have our first documentary planned out, and I’ve been working side jobs to raise money so we can make it happen. Getting past these royal obligations is my last hurdle, and then we’ll begin filming.

“Girl, I need a drink, and I need it now,” I announce as I pull out the chair next to her.

“That bad?”

I sigh. “I guess not that bad, but the whole idea is bad, so yeah, I need a drink.”

“Tell me about it.” She slides her cocktail to me before motioning to the bartender to order another.

After taking a long sip, I drop my head back, inhaling a deep breath before I let the cool liquid slide down my throat.

“It was stiff, dull, very ma'am and curtsey inducing,” I say sarcastically.

“Oh, come on. There are so many rumors about him he couldn’t be that awful. I always figured that’s why his parents shipped him off to London, to keep him out of the limelight here.”

I sigh. “No way. That whole family is the same. All of them doing their media campaigns, visiting homeless shelters like they give a damn, all while dressed in their best Versace ensembles.”

“No, that's his sister. Not him,” she defends.

“Yes, but her new husband is always by her side, seemingly bored as shit.”

“That's them, you can't judge Prince Sage by what they do. Notice you've never seen him acting like that.”

“Exactly, he'll make me queen, and I'll be the one having to travel around, doing photo ops while he has his little piece of ass on the side.”

Jeannine narrows her eyes. “Do you hear yourself, right now? I know you’re obsessed with Jackie Kennedy and Princess Diana, but they aren’t you, and he isn’t them. Are we really sitting here having a conversation about how you don't want to marry a prince?”

“Ha, ha, ha.” I shoot her a glare.

“What's the sarcastic laugh about over here?” a guy asks from behind me.

I turn around to see a tall, decent-looking man about my age. His jaw line seems like it’s cut from a mold, and his eyes are the craziest aqua blue, shining brightly in the bar lights.

My attention turns to where he boldly places his hands on both Jeannine’s chair and mine.

“She's bitching about having to marry a prince,” Jeannine states nonchalantly.

I slap her arm.

“Ah, so you're one of the lucky females in line to marry Prince Sage? Damn, and here I came over here thinking I had a chance,” he jokes.

“You still might,” Jeannine states. “At least if she has anything to say about it.”

“You're joking right?” He pinches his eyebrows together in confusion.

“See, even he thinks you’re nuts,” Jeannine deadpans.

“Seriously? What girl doesn't dream of being a princess?” he asks, in surprise.

“This one...” I whisper, glancing down and fiddling with the straw in my cup. “I mean, not like this. It's not the princess thing; it's being forced. I don't even know the guy. I want to marry for—” I look up to realize I'm talking about love with a complete stranger. I shake my head. “Never mind. You don't care to hear my drama.”

His friend calls him from across the bar. He acknowledges him before turning back to me. “Well, if you do marry him, I bet you two would be perfect together,” he states matter-of-factly.

He heads off to talk to his friend, and I glance over to Jeannine, confused by his statement. She shrugs, so I shake it off and nod to the bartender for another drink.

I involuntarily search for the guy all night. I never see him with another girl, but when he catches me staring, he winks. There was something about the whole interaction that felt peculiar, but I can't put my finger on it.