Is Nicholas Moving On?
It’s been well over a month since we’ve seen Prince Nicholas with American heiress Kyra Duncan, making royal watchers wonder if things have cooled between the couple. Was this simply a summer romance that’s run its course?
And adding fuel to this theory is the fact Nicholas was seen out on the town last night with ex-girlfriend Lady Sylla Gates. The two apparently crossed paths at a birthday party for their mutual friend, Daniel Evanson, and they were getting cozy on the dance floor, according to several onlookers.
The prince and Lady Sylla were linked on and off for a few years during their time at university. At the time, sources close to both of them said that the prince wasn’t ready to settle down yet, while Lady Sylla wanted a commitment. Could the timing for these two exes finally be right?
Meanwhile, back in the states, Kyra Duncan offered no comment when asked for her reaction to pictures of Nicholas and Sylla. She’s begun the last year of her graduate program, which may explain why she doesn’t have time for royal romance . . . even with the irresistible Prince Nicholas.
“If they’re so convinced that you and Nicky aren’t together anymore, why are the reporters still hanging around?” Shelby glared out the window of our kitchen.
“Because for every story like the one about Nicky and this Sylla, there’s another one claiming that we’re meeting in secret or planning to. They don’t trust me anymore—not after the trip to Florida.” I sighed, glancing at my friend over the top of my computer screen. “Come here and tell me what you think of this one.”
Shelby dropped the edge of the curtain and came to stand behind me, studying the images of different hairstyles on my laptop. “They’re all pretty, Kyra. I think they’d all look good on you.” She leaned down and tapped one picture. “That one’s my favorite.”
I frowned. “Could I pull that off? Or will I look ridiculous?”
“Of course, you wouldn’t look ridiculous. You’re beautiful, Ky.” She took hold of my hair and twisted it up. “It’s just cutting it a few inches in the back and styling it a little in the front. It won’t change you.”
“Hmmmm.” I tilted my head. “I don’t know. What if everyone thinks I’m doing it because of all the fuss about Nicky and his ex-girlfriend? They’ll write that I’m changing how I look to try to get him back.”
“Which is wrong, because you don’t need to get him back—you still have him.” Shelby pulled at the chair across the table from me and sat down. “You said he told you that the whole Lady Sylla thing was something the press blew up, right?”
I nodded. “I know it is. Nicky wouldn’t do that to me. Plus, he called me after he’d gotten home from that birthday party for his friend Daniel, and he was definitely alone—or he’s a much better actor than any of us might suspect.” My cheeks warmed, remembering the night in question.
“I take it from the way your face just went red that you two had some long-distance fun that night?” Shelby raised one eyebrow. “Kyra. I’m shocked. I’m appalled. I’m—”
“Jealous?” I suggested.
“Damn right, I am. Not of Nicky, per se, but you really are a lucky girl. He adores you. So I’m relieved that you’re not letting the stupid tabloid stories upset you.”
“It’s not easy,” I admitted. “Not because of Nicky and me—what they write doesn’t threaten who we are—but because of what other people think. Some girl yelled out to me the other day while I was walking across campus, asking how I felt that my boyfriend was cheating on me. Even those who don’t say anything are thinking it, I know. Or I suspect. There was a group working on the section of the garden near our experimental plot last week. They kept looking over at me while I was working. I didn’t hear what they said, but all of sudden, Ed threw down his rake and went over there to give them a piece of his mind. He was pissed.”
“Awww, it’s sweet that he’s such a good friend.”
I smiled. “He really is. And his girlfriend Jessie is pretty great, too. We all had lunch the other day, and when I thanked her for being okay with Ed driving me to Boston back in August, she said the only thanks she wanted was an invitation to my wedding when I married Nicky.” I shook my head. “She didn’t seem to believe me when I said there was no wedding on the horizon.”
“Well, not yet.” Shelby shrugged. “But if things keep going the way they are, don’t you think that’s where you two will end up?”
“I don’t know.” I closed my computer. “We never talk about that. We talk about each other, and we talk about how we feel, and we talk about important stuff. But we never make plans for the future—not beyond when we’re going to see each other again—which, incidentally, is in seventeen days and six hours and twelve minutes.”
“Not that you’re counting or anything,” Shelby remarked dryly. “But this time, you’re going to London. This isn’t just a romantic fling visit. This one is serious. You’re going to be in his town with him. You might meet his family. Scratch that, you’ll almost definitely meet at least some of his family.”
“Technically, I’ve met some of Nicky’s family before. I’m staying with his sister Alexandra and her husband Jake. And I knew Daisy—well, Princess Margaret—when she was little, too.”
“Those are sisters. I’m talking parents. Did you know Nicky’s mom and dad back when you were kids?” Shelby folded one leg under her on the chair and leaned her chin into her hand.
“No, I didn’t. Back in those days, Nicky, Alex and Daisy always flew over to Florida with their security team and some woman—I guess, now that I think of it, she was probably Daisy’s nanny. I didn’t pay much attention back then.”
“Then it would be a pretty big deal for you to meet them now.”
“You’re probably right, but I’m not going to meet them on this trip, so I don’t need to think about it. They’re going to be in Poland while I’m there, on an official trip.” I had been relieved when Nicky had shared that tidbit in the same conversation that he had suggested that I plan to stay with his sister Alex.
“You could always get a hotel room, I suppose, but if you stay at KP with Alex and Jake, we’ll have more privacy and more freedom. They have plenty of room in their apartment, and Alex already said she’d love to have you. Daisy offered, too, but I’m going to recommend we ignore that—she’s a notorious slob, that one.”
I was slightly nervous about the idea of being a houseguest of Nicky’s older sister, but that anxiety was definitely eased by the knowledge that I wouldn’t be expected to spend with any other family members.
“You know, these things—royal romances—they don’t usually move at the same rate that regular relationships do. I don’t know if it’s the pressure of the media, or just that they tend to move faster, but aside from a few notable exceptions, royals get married fast, once they find the person they want.”
“Probably it just seems that way, because by the time the press finds out, it’s already underway.” I had no idea, but it seemed as likely as anything else. “I mean, look at Nicky and me. We actually have known each other for twenty years. Even if we got married next month—which is not going to happen, just in case you were wondering—it wouldn’t really be a whirlwind relationship. I think the fast weddings happened more often years ago, when people frowned on couples living together before they got married.”
“You might be right.” Shelby regarded me. “Is that what you’d like to do? Live with Nicky first?”
“I’d like to live in the same time zone for a while. I can’t imagine telling the world that we’re going to get married before we’ve done that, at least. But I’m not sure I’m even there yet. I love Nicky. I know I do. And I trust that he loves me. It’s the rest of it that I’m not sure about.”
Shelby frowned. “The press attention? I think it would ease once you got married.”
“Maybe. But Shel, I don’t know.” I stared down at the wooden table between us. “I feel like . . . I’m going to have to make a choice if this is going to work in the long term. I’m going to have to change. I won’t be able to stay who I am.”
“Nobody ever does, Ky.” She reached across to cover my hand. “Nobody stays the same. You and I, we’ve been spoiled because we went right from college to grad school, and life’s been pretty sweet. But next year, when we graduate, everything is going to change—and you can’t stay that same person who spends hours mucking around in the dirt with plants. You’re going to be working for Honey Bee Juices, and like it or not, Honey and Handsome are going to expect you to put on grown-up clothes every now and then and work in an office. I’m going to have to find a job somewhere, too—and it won’t be fun and games. We’re going to have to grow up, Ky.”
“I know that.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m fully aware that everything changes. But what if I have to become someone else entirely? What if the trade-off for loving Nicky is losing myself? I know I always say I don’t read the articles or look at the pictures, but I do. I see the stories about Nicky’s family. I know what’s expected of people who are part of the royal family. I don’t want to become one of those women who only thinks about what she’s going to wear to the next dinner, but I also don’t want to embarrass Nicky. I want him to have a wife he can be proud of—I want him to be proud of me. I’m not sure both of those things can happen.”
“Maybe it’s not that extreme. You could compromise, you know? Nicky’s not a main royal. There are, like, eleven or twelve people between him and the throne, so the world doesn’t have the same expectations for him that they do the others. The only reason he gets as much attention from the press as he does now is because he’s such a hottie. And people love a royal hottie.”
I smirked reluctantly. “You’re not wrong. He really is smokin’, isn’t he?”
“He is. And that smokin’ hottie is crazy in love with you, Kyra. He didn’t fall for someone shallow or vapid. I don’t think he’s going to ask you to suddenly become someone you’re not. So maybe you just need to trust in him a little more.”
“You might be right.” I reached back to lift the length of my hair from the back of my neck. “And maybe it wouldn’t hurt to improve a few things about myself. I’d probably want to get my hair cut before I graduated anyway. Why not do it now? It’s just hair. It’ll grow again.”
“Exactly.” Shelby stood up and reached for her phone. “Can I call the stylist who does my hair? We could get you in at the end of this week.”
I nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“. . . and I think we’ve finally come up with some policies that will allow more restaurants and groceries to donate the food they might otherwise throw away. There’s a new group forming that will oversee the safety of the food and work out a good way for it to be repackaged for those who need it most. It’s just a start, but it’s a step in the right direction.”
“It sounds like a good move.” I lay on my bed, the phone pressed to my ear as Nicky told me about his day.
“Yeah, it is.” He paused. “You’ve been quiet. Are you all right?”
“Sure.” I tried to force a lightness I wasn’t feeling into my voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “If you’re going to make me guess, I can come up with a whole list of possibilities, including this ridiculous story about Sylla and me that won’t seem to die, or the fact that we haven’t been together in over two months and you’re starting to wonder if I’m worth all the bother, or that you’re going to be coming to see me in a few weeks and you’re silently freaking out about that. Am I close to being on target?”
“Noooo . . .” I stretched out the syllable. “But then again, maybe a little. Not the part about you and, uh, ‘the lovely Lady Sylla’. I mean, I don’t love hearing about how the two of you met when you were sixteen and began a relationship that both of you always knew was meant to be. That’s not fun and games for me.”
“Then why are you reading the stories?” Nicky sounded frustrated. “I keep telling you, don’t look at that garbage.”
“I don’t!” I shot back. “I almost never do, unless I come upon it by surprise. But the reporters who are here, still lurking outside my house, don’t mind sharing the details with me. I understand that they’re trying to get a reaction. I get that. I work hard not to give them anything.” I rolled to my side and stared at the wall. “Do you know I spent thirty minutes yesterday practicing my bland face? The one that gives nothing away but doesn’t make me look like an idiot in pictures? That was time well-spent.”
“Ky, don’t worry about it so hard. Don’t let it get to you. You know me. You know I don’t give a shit about Sylla, and frankly, she could care less about me. She’s involved with someone else, and I’m happy for her. We really were friends more than anything else back in school. So think about that when the press yells their crap. Remember that for me, there’s only you. Always.”
“I believe you.” I screwed my eyes shut and willed the tears of self-pity not to come. They rarely listened, and tonight was no exception. One large tear plopped onto the sheet below me.
“Why do you sound so forlorn about believing me?” Nicky murmured, tenderness infusing his words. “God, Ky, I just want to be there with you. I want to wrap my arms around you and remind you why everything that’s happening now is going to be worth it in the end.”
“Is it?” I wiped at my face and sat up, hugging my knees to my chest. “I know you’re worth everything, Nicky. I don’t have any doubts about that. But where is this going? Where are we going to end up? I don’t know how much longer this—how we’re living now—is sustainable for me. I feel like I’m always on edge and about to shatter.”
“I agree with you. I don’t think this can go on the way it is forever, either. But the good news is that it doesn’t have to. We only need to get through these next few months, and then everything will be different. Better.”
“Will it?” I sounded pathetic even to my own ears, and I hated that.
“I didn’t plan to have this conversation over the phone, Ky. I thought that was one reason you were coming to London, so we could talk about this. Make plans for the future.”
“Really? I didn’t know that was on our agenda. I thought this was just a chance for us to see each other. To be together.” I sounded like a bitch. A desperate, whiny bitch, and I hated it. “I’m sorry, Nicky. I’m not being very clear tonight. It’s been a long day. A hell of a week. I’m just . . . struggling.”
“I know.” He spoke softly. “I would do anything to change our situation, so that you don’t have to struggle, or if you did, so we’d be in it together. That’s what I want to talk about when you’re here. I don’t want to live an ocean away from you forever, Ky. I love you. I want us be together. We only have to get through a little longer.”
I nodded, which was silly, because he couldn’t see me, but it made me feel better. “I can do it if I know there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I can keep soldiering through if I know there’s a reason for me to be brave and keep a stiff upper-lip.”
“I happen to like your lips the way they are. No stiff upper lips or lower lips for me. Just Kyra lips. Preferably pressed against mine, or open underneath mine, or wrapped around—”
“If you go down that path, buddy, this phone call is going to take on a whole different tone.” I interrupted him. “You know I love our phone sex, but tonight, I’m not sure I could pull it off.”
“I don’t want you to pull it off. Frankly, I’d prefer you didn’t.” His teasing made me smile, and suddenly, I felt much lighter. Nicky had that effect on me.
“Nicky, you make me happy.” I had to say it. The words practically burst out of me. “You wonder if I’ll decide you’re not worth all the stress and baggage that comes along with you, but the truth is, I worry about the same thing. I’m not easy. If you wanted easy, you should’ve fallen in love with a woman from your own country who knows how to dress, how to be polite and how to pose for photographers. You should’ve fallen in love with Cinderella. But instead, you wacky boy, you fell for the anti-Cinderella.”
“Is that who you are, sweetheart?” He laughed. “Actually, I love it. It’s very you. Very Kyra. And in case you hadn’t figured it out, I love the anti-Cinderella. I think she’s fun and exciting and the perfect woman for me. Cinderella—she’d be boring. Plus, glass slippers wouldn’t suit you.”
I closed my eyes and snuggled down against my pillow, feeling the tension fall away. “I love you, Nicky. So much.” Clearing my throat, I added, “And, um, maybe now I am in the mood for a little bit of long-distance nookie. If you were interested, I mean.”
“Ky, when it comes to you, I’m always interested.” His voice lowered. “And I happen to know that any kind of sex is a terrific stress reliever. We’d be wrong not to do it under these circumstances.”
“If we must, we must.” I giggled. “Should I close my eyes and think of England?”
“Only if England is what makes you hot and looks like me, baby.”
I gave a little hum of anticipation. “Nicky? I can’t wait to be in London with you.”
“Neither can I. Now, tell me what you’re wearing . . . and let me help you get rid of some of that tension.”
By the time I fell asleep forty minutes later, the phone on the pillow next to my head, I was very relaxed.