Midsummer

5. Lex

Iwanted to go to the show. If I had been left alone, I would have, but life had other plans for me.

Two days after I met Carter, my parents arrived on a diplomatic trip to meet with the king and the rest of Parliament on climate change. The night I was supposed to go see the performance, my father dragged me to a royal dinner, which was a fancy way of saying I had to sit quietly and make nice faces at those society deemed worthy enough to be in the king’s presence.

I’d met most of the royal family before and the princes were off at college, so I didn’t think there’d be anyone of interest to me. We were halfway through the first course when the door opened and one of the staff announced, “Her Royal Highness, the Princess Miriam.”

We all stood, and I rolled my eyes, annoyed she was late and I was the only one my age here. All anyone wanted to ask me about were my future plans in politics, which, at eighteen, were nonexistent.

Miri wasn’t a duchess in those days, not until she officially joined the royal household, but she stopped my heart all the same in her bright pink evening gown with her long brown hair in waves down her back. She reminded me of a goddess in a Botticelli painting, or maybe Venus herself, appearing out of the sea foam to make me fall in love with her the moment I set eyes on her.

I cleared my throat and tried to act like I didn’t give a shit about anyone in this stupid room. I was pissed I had to be here instead of at Carter’s show, and not even a hot girl could smooth it over. Even if she made my heart race when she took the seat next to me. Even if she smelled like gardens and sunshine in the spring.

“Good of you to join us,” some old guy said. Miri paused for a heartbeat and timidly met that dude’s gaze before forcing a smile and straightening her spine.

“Pardon my tardiness,” she said. “My flight from Washington, DC was delayed.” She put the linen napkin on her lap and took a drink of water. “I’ve only just arrived from the airport.”

“Oh, what brought you to our hometown?” my mother chimed in, sipping at her wine.

“School,” Miri politely said. “My uncle, the duke of McCormick”—aforementioned old dude—“arranged for me to board at a private institution there. Just for the year. Just to…clear my head.”

“There’s a lot of that going around,” I muttered.

“Alexei,” my mother snapped, giving me that look that said I needed to mind my manners. Like she was the one to talk. We’d only been here two hours, and she’d put away at least a bottle of claret by herself.

Miri’s honey-brown gaze fell on me, mischief brewing behind her curious expression. “What? You too?”

Her tease made my mother squirm.

“Miriam,” McCormick said. “Apologies, Madam Fairfax. My niece can be quite vocal about her disposition. Most young women would relish the opportunity to study abroad.”

I sensed Miri had a million retorts, but she said none of them.

“As always, dear uncle, I concede to your wise counsel. Perhaps an overture to walking up stairs next?” It was a taunt at the recent viral video of him tripping up a flight of steps on his way to a meeting, but she’d said it in such a lighthearted, innocent way that the entire table took it as friendly banter. Someone else made a crack at McCormick’s expense, and the conversation went on around us.

“Alexei went to boarding school around DC,” my mother said. “Which one did you attend? Perhaps you know some of the same people.”

“DC’s a big place, Mother.”

“You’re Alexei Fairfax, yes?” Miri said. “Your brother was Marcus?”

Bringing up Marcus, especially in front of my mother, was like dumping lava on ice cream. We’d be a melted, sopping mess in point five seconds.

It should have been me.

My mother took another long pull on her drink, and I stabbed at a cucumber on my plate, stuffing it into my mouth with a loud crunch, trying not to give in to the demon hissing at me from the depths of its cage in my heart.

It should have been me. It should have been me.

“I was roommates with Ivy Washington at Mount Oberon,” Miri explained.

The cucumber lodged in my throat, and I coughed, reaching for my water so I could gulp it down.

“Oh, we know Ivy,” my mother cooed, a bright smile widening cheek to cheek. “She and Alexei are old friends.”

I tried to clear my windpipe, resisting the urge to balk at the casual way my mother called us friends. We weren’t friends. I hated Ivy Washington. I always had. The last time I saw her, she’d slapped the shit out of me. (Rightfully so.)

“Friends?” Miri said, her eyes twinkling. “You don’t say?” She gathered salad on her fork and brought it to her mouth, shooting me a playful look that said she knew the truth but had decided to go along with my mother’s claim. I could only imagine what Ivy must have told her. She’d probably painted me as some kind of monster who skinned puppies and ate their still-beating hearts. But Miri carried along with polite conversation, entertaining the stories of Ivy and me as children, running through the residence while our parents talked shop, our siblings somewhere in tow.

Miri thrilled me. She played the princess part so well that I almost believed it. But it was that roguish look in her eye that intrigued me the most, like it was all a joke, and she was the only one in on it.

After dinner, the politicians and royal figureheads convened in the parlor while the queen escorted the spouses and children to another room for tea. Miri broke off from the herd and slipped out of her shoes, prancing on the balls of her feet down a dark corridor of Buckingham Palace, her heels dangling from one hand and the fabric of her skirt in the other.

Then she stopped, turned to me, and smiled, nodding like I should follow her.

I didn’t even think about it. My feet moved on their own.

She led me through several rooms and down a stairwell hidden behind a massive oil painting, the service access judging by the plain white walls and matching railings. We descended two flights and went out a side door, cool night air hitting me in the face as spring gave way to summer in England. We sulked to a corner of the palace where the east wing met the main corridor and ducked farther into the shadows.

“What the fuck are we doing out here?” I asked.

“We are not doing anything. I am smoking weed. You are keeping me company.” She plopped a joint between her lips and sparked a lighter. I took the opportunity to light a cigarette myself, resisting the urge to laugh. Look at this. Bonafide royalty. A fucking pothead.

“I need a good buzz to get through the rest of that charade.” She ran her fingers over her forehead. “Did you hear the way he talked to me? Like I’m some invalid. Like I don’t know my own mind.”

I inhaled deeply on my cigarette as she rambled about how horrible her family could be. They’d shipped her off to boarding school without talking to her about it, and now her uncle wanted to act like he’d known it would be good for her all along.

“I’m eighteen,” she said. “Old enough to petition Pop for my estate. He’s said he’ll give it to me.”

“What will you do with it once you have it?”

She passed me the joint, and I took it, handing my cigarette to her in exchange.

“Take care of it. I’m going to college in the States this fall, but after that? I’ll join the royal household and take up my duties as my father’s daughter. Rebrand the Stuart name.” A sparkle glinted in her eye as she spoke of it, like she’d wanted it forever.

“Sounds ambitious.”

She paused and cast a skeptical look at me. “Ivy doesn’t have great things to say about you.”

I cracked a smile and shook my head. “No, I bet she doesn’t.”

“I thought you’d be meaner.” She squinted as she made her assessment.

“That’s because Ivy’s a frigid bitch.”

Miri let out a girlish laugh. “Careful, Lex. Ivy’s my best friend.”

“Christ.” I let out a defeated sigh. “What does someone like you want with someone like her?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re standing outside Buckingham Palace smoking pot with a guy you met an hour ago. Cameras could catch us. Paparazzi could catch us. You don’t give a fuck.”

She tucked in her bottom lip.

“Ivy would be pissing her pants,” I said.

“Don’t be so sure.” Miri narrowed her eyes and a hint of a small smile ghosted over her lips before she hid it away. I seized on that like a dog with a bone, that grin saying so much without saying anything at all.

What could Ivy have done to put that look on Miri’s face? What memories flickered through her mind when she thought about her old roommate?

Why did I care so much?

I didn’t.

Miri and I stayed outside another hour, talking about people we knew from Mount Oberon—teachers we liked, teachers we hated, people we fucked. She eventually pulled out another joint, and we smoked that, too. The munchies drove us to the kitchen, where the staff shook their heads and sighed while we raided the pantry. Which begged the question—How many other royals had gotten high as a kite and absconded with the queen’s secret stash of treats?

Then we went upstairs to the room reserved for her whenever she wanted to stay over, a modest-size space done in pastel lavenders and soft violets. We spread our bounty out on the floor and sat around it, tearing into the candies while we talked.

I texted my mother to say Miri and I had hit it off and not to wait up. Ecstatic I found a potential high society love match, my mother agreed and left me alone for the rest of the night.

Miri and I didn’t fuck. Sure, she was hot, and I would have. But much in the same way I’d needed Carter to be a normal fucking person for one night, I sensed Miri needed that from me. I didn’t know what happened between her and Ivy before she left, only that she got this wistful look anytime she brought up the ginger. I had set out to be a better, healthier person, and maybe paying it forward could be a good start.

That didn’t last long, though.

The next morning, we woke up passed out on the floor together. Miri said she planned to go to her country estate in Scotland and asked if I wanted to go with her.

“You just met me.”

“So?” She shrugged. “You could have been a bastard to me last night and you weren’t. Despite what Ivy says, I think there’s a soul in there, Alexei Fairfax, and I’m going to find it.”

There was no arguing with Miriam Stuart when she made up her mind about someone. Especially me.

“Why do you care?” I asked.

“Because you remind me of her.”

I balked. “Who?”

She smiled. “Ivy.”

“What?” Ivy and I couldn’t be more different. She was a stuck-up do-gooder, and I’d consumed every fucking thing I got my hands on, and I bet Ivy hadn’t even been drunk. We were not the same. At all. “You’re fucking with me.”

“You’re both made of fire,” she added. “She burns hot. You burn cold. A prince of darkness.”

How in the hell could Miri possibly know that about me?

She’d sized me up before she even met me. She’d learned about me through my archnemesis, who hadn’t done me any favors.

“Okay, it’s purely selfish.” She sighed and huffed, pretending to be the damsel in distress. “I couldn’t find anyone else to go, and I don’t want to be alone.”

I found myself packed in a car on the way to Scotland while I was still explaining to her why it was a bad idea.

* * *

Miri’s family owned a three-bedroom cottage just outside Aberdeen. For someone who came from royalty, I expected it to be a castle or a four-mansion complex. What I found was a stone building half covered in ivy with a gray slat roof and two chimneys sticking out from either side.

“I know it doesn’t look like much,” she said, climbing out of the car, “but I love it here. I’d stay full time if I could.”

Pink rose bushes lined the cobblestone entryway, an old-fashioned wooden fence on either side. It was like I was stepping back in time, like I’d suddenly reverted to the eighteenth century. The inside had a modern open floor concept, the living area off to the left with a couple of couches and a kitchen in the far corner. The dining area was next to that, and a set of stairs to the right went to the second level with two tiny bedrooms, the bigger one containing the second fireplace.

The old secondhand furniture seemed out of place. The antique pieces had been well taken care of, but none of them matched. The portraits on the walls were a mixture of oil paintings featuring her dead relatives and oversize canvas photographs—some of nature, others of people I didn’t recognize. It was so her, so out of place, and yet, intimately fascinating and unique.

“Why can’t you stay here?” I asked.

She sighed and dropped her purse on the table next to the door. “Gran says I need to keep up appearances. I can’t disappear into the Highlands.”

“Fuck.” I fingered a ceramic trinket on her mantel. “We could disappear here together.”

She arched a brown eyebrow and bit her bottom lip. “What does Alexei Fairfax have to escape from?”

I snorted a laugh. “Everything.”

“I’ll tell you what.” She hummed a playful sigh and took a step closer to me, linking her arms behind her back. It made her arch forward and push her breasts out so I’d notice. And I did. “I’ll let you disappear here whenever you want…for a price.”

Something hot flushed through me, straight down my spine and into my balls.

At eighteen, I’d fuck anything, and even if I promised myself I’d be respectful, I wouldn’t turn her down if she came onto me. Besides, she was fucking hot and a princess. I’d be an absolute moron if I didn’t take her up on whatever she offered.

I raised an eyebrow, matching her playfulness with my own. “Oh? What could Her Royal Highness possibly want?”

She leaned in close, pressing her forehead to the side of my jaw, her hand on my shoulder. Hot breath spilled down that side of my body when she whispered, “A kiss.”

She tunneled her hands through the back of my thick locks, drawing me closer to her lips. When she pressed that perfect little mouth against mine, I moaned and collapsed into the touch, wrapping my arms around her waist.

Sure, less than forty-eight hours ago I’d been on a date with Karli that had ended with my mouth around Carter’s cock, but literal eons had passed between then and now. The present seemed so immediate and the past so far away. Now, no one knew me the way Miri did.

My dick pulsed and something hot and wanton raced through my veins, and when I moved to unbutton her jeans, she pulled away from me.

It was there for just a second—the sadness, the heartbreak, the tenderness, and vulnerability deep inside her. Even when she forced a smile, shook her head, and looked down, avoiding my questioning gaze.

Had I done something?

No. I couldn’t have.

“Come on.” She nodded toward the back door. “I’ll show you the best part.”

I half expected her to take me to her bedroom to finish whatever we’d started, but she didn’t. She took me out back and showed me her garden. The groundskeeper started it for her since she’d been away at school, but she liked to be the one to maintain it in the summer before she went back.

“It’s soothing,” she said, cupping a purple flower and bending at the waist to smell it, her wavy brown hair falling over her shoulder. “Being here. Tending to my plants.”

I had to admit that the scenery was beautiful. Enormous emerald mountains surrounded us on either side, heather swaying and whistling in the wind. As much of a city dweller as I was, a sense of serenity fell over me, making me lighter. Free.

“One of my nannies used to say the trees know all.” She smiled, her eyes drifting shut while she soaked up the memory. “Sometimes, when I’m alone here, I think I can hear them talking. Silly, I know, but I swear it’s true.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I took it how she meant it and tried to listen for the trees myself. I didn’t hear anything.

A few moments passed in silence until I finally said, “Why did you bring me here, Miri?”

She shrugged. “Maybe you could use some peace, too.”

Turned out, I could.

We spent the rest of the night getting high and chain-smoking cigarettes, telling each other stories that made me laugh until my sides hurt. Occasionally, my thoughts went to Carter. Beautiful, radiant Carter. How was he doing in Chicago? Did he think of me? I regretted not texting him, and now it seemed like too little, too late, especially after I didn’t come to the show. I rectified that shame in Miri. We were kindred spirits, complementary contrasting colors painted next to each other. A bright pastel pink against the darkest black.

It was easy between us, and even at the beginning, it felt like it would always be easy between us. I didn’t have to hide around her. I could say whatever I wanted or whatever I meant, and she took it in stride. Where I held a certain level of competitiveness with anyone I’d ever met, Miri didn’t bring that out in me. She calmed me, just by being herself.

This was part of her enigma. The world labeled her a slut, a misguided youth who had survived the loss of her parents by partying and sleeping around. Who could blame her, right? The royal family’s greatest blight. One so big, they hid her in the States for the better part of a year. But underneath that scrutiny, she wanted nothing more than to smoke pot at her cottage and tend to her garden. Such a simple creature.

One night, two weeks after we arrived, we were cooking dinner together. Or rather, Miri cooked, and I stood around with my hands in my pockets while she rambled.

“And then I told him, why would I do that, you know?” She crinkled her nose and shook her head, stirring the sauce in the pot with a wooden spoon. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and wore a cute pink apron I wanted to rip off.

We’d made out a few times since we’d been here, but nothing serious and definitely nothing below the belt. It didn’t bother me, though. Which surprised the fuck out of me. The only other girl I’d ever spent any amount of time around without fucking was Ivy.

Not that I wanted to fuck Ivy the way I wanted to fuck Miri.

Definitely not.

If I had to guess, I’d say Miri was heartbroken about someone and was using me as a distraction. In all honesty, I’d been doing the same to her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Like you’re about to gobble me up.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I am.”

She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips, returning to her sauce on the stove.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“My nanny,” she said. “One of them.” A brief silence. “You know I’m going to TW, right? I don’t know if I ever told you that.”

A tingle of excitement shot through me, but I played it cool. “Oh?”

“Ivy and I are going to room together again.” Another long silence. “Are you still planning to go there?”

“Yep.”

This time the pause was pregnant with the what-ifs and what-could-bes between us. It had accumulated over the course of these last few days, in the times we’d gotten close, only for her to pull away at the last second.

“I don’t do relationships,” she said. “You being here is the longest I’ve ever spent around someone alone.” She laughed. “Except for Ivy. I suppose that’s why it works, isn’t it? Because sex isn’t involved.”

“I could say the same,” I added.

“Do you despise me as much as you pretend to despise her?” Miri raised an eyebrow and grinned.

I took a step closer and brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “Never, Princess.”

The sound of her laughter rattled through me, putting a smile on my face. She curled her body into mine, wrapping her arms around my waist so she could rest her head on my chest. “Would you want me, Alexei? I’m not saying forever. I get bored with people rather quickly.”

I sighed, warmth settling in my stomach at the thought of having her all to myself, at least for a little while. “Me, too.”

“But let’s try, yes?” She looked up at me. “You and me? If we get bored, we’ll tell each other. No hard feelings.”

I let her kiss me, relishing in the warm embrace of her delicate lips. When she sagged into my touch, I wrapped my fingers around the back of her thighs and lifted her into my arms. She wrapped herself around me. God, she was so warm and inviting, and when my cock throbbed against her warm cunt, I thought I’d lose control and fuck her like I hadn’t touched anyone in ages.

She reached in between us, unbuttoning my pants, grabbing me, and slipping me inside her while we were both still clothed. I fucked her right there on the kitchen counter, inhaling her exhales, kissing her anywhere I could get my mouth. When we came, we came together. She yanked at my legs, forcing me deeper inside her, our mouths inches apart. It hit me like a ton of bricks, right down my spine and exploding behind my eyes.

Pleasure and euphoria and something uniquely profound.

Like this moment was special, and I needed to pay attention to it.

After we came back down to Earth and salvaged what we could from the burned meal, Miri took me outside, and we made love again under the clear night sky.