I watch as Addison and Gabriel disappear down the hall to the loo, surprised by the feeling of regret that's come over me to see her go. I also find myself wishing I had been a medic in the Air Force, instead of a helicopter pilot like my father and my father's father. But as the Crown Prince of Tanovia, a tiny kingdom off the coast of England, you don't exactly get to decide these things for yourself. Rather, you do what is expected of you from the moment you’re born until your last breath.

At least in my case, my parents have acquiesced on my desire to complete my last year of my Bachelor of International Relations in the United States before I’m to go home, find a queen, and settle down. I get one year of freedom and my goal is to enjoy every last second.

Obviously, they can't grant me complete freedom, hence the twenty-four-hour security detail posing as students. But, at least I'm here enjoying campus life instead of being bored to death at luncheons, galas, and very tedious meetings with the royal advisers.

Johan, my senior bodyguard, gestures for me to have a seat at the table in the corner. "Your parents are waiting for you to have a Skype call. Perhaps you could do it from here?"

"Yes, I suppose." I shrug and make my way to the booth at the back. Sitting down, I keep my eye on the hallway, hoping to see Addison return soon. Johan stands next to the table, facing the front door while I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket and place the call on Skype.

My parents appear on the screen, looking quite worried as usual.

"There you are darling. We thought you forgot again.” My mother is referring to last week's phone call when I was too busy guzzling from a beer bong at a rather wild frat party to remember to call home.

"Hello Mother, Father. You both look well."

"We'd be better if you'd come back home where you belong and finish school here." My father gives me a stern look.

"We've discussed this, Father, and we've agreed I am to have this last bit of freedom before I settle into my role as Crown Prince."

"We may have agreed to it, but it doesn't mean I'm going to like it."

"Well, there it is. We’ll have to agree to disagree then. Is there anything else, then? Because I really need to get on with my studies." Just as the words leave my mouth, a group of girls comes pouring through the door of the café, making an incredible amount of noise.

"Oh yes, I can hear your study partners arriving now." My father has perfected the use of sarcasm.

“I'm at a coffee shop." I turn my phone so that they can see the counter area, purposefully avoiding the group of what I now see are members of some sort of athletic team. Based on the look of them, I'm going to guess volleyball. They're tall and very perky, and several of them are most definitely giving me the eye.

Turning the phone back to me, I say, "I should let you go. It was lovely to see you both."

"You too, darling. Don't forget you’re coming home at Christmas for the wedding." My mother smiles, leaning so close to the web-cam that her nose suddenly looks enormous.

"Yes, of course I'll be there." I most certainly will not be there. I’ve already decided to have a horribly debilitating stomach bug at the time. My father is terrified of catching anything that causes a digestive disturbance so that is pretty much my best bet for staying put rather than rushing off to my stupid cousin Edwin's wedding.

"You will be there," My father says, leaning so he is slightly in front of my mother now. His entire forehead is cut off and I bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. "You will be at the wedding, Henry, even if I have to come and drag you home by the collar. Don't forget who's paying for your lifestyle." With that, he ends the call, no doubt before I can argue.

Sliding my mobile back in my jacket pocket, I slump down in my seat a little, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. Going home for Christmas isn’t just an irritating week with my family. I'm also expected to announce my engagement to Bianca Tidsdale, a beautiful but dull-as-all-hell debutante of my parents’ choosing.

Well I have news for my parents that they're not going to like very much. There is no freaking way I'm going to marry her. Or anyone for that matter—not when the world is so full of beautiful women to get to know. If I have my way, I'll be the Hugh Hefner of royals, Playboy Mansion and all. Starting with a certain lovely barista who’s still in the washroom with my bodyguard.