Chapter 6
I stared out the window at the white, puffy clouds that floated by as the jet speared through them on its way to Wexstone.
I couldn’t believe that a week ago I was living a normal—perhaps even mundane, but pleasant—life in the city, and now I was on my way to participate in a royal love contest fashioned after one of TV’s most ridiculous reality shows.
I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.
I was still unsure how I felt about the contest at all.
It seemed like a disservice to the country, but somehow I had found myself packing my things, using the ticket Vince had bought, and boarding the plane anyway.
All while catching myself thinking back to the kiss I’d had with Knox in the closet and wondering if this is what I should really be doing.
Sam and I had packed my belongings into a storage pod earlier in the week and she had hugged me goodbye, promising to visit before the contest ended in December.
I sighed, settling back into my seat. My mind floated back over the hardest part of the previous week: Telling my brother about this little adventure.
Connor was eighteen months younger than me, but he may as well have been a decade older, given how together his life was.
He and his wife Colleen were college sweethearts who got married almost immediately after graduating and wasted no time starting a family.
They already owned their own home out in Oregon where they lived with my three-year-old niece Eleanor and their golden retriever Scout. They belonged on a fucking postcard.
As much as I loved teasing Connor about his Norman Rockwell life, he was a great dad and loved the holidays, so telling him that I would be missing Thanksgiving and Christmas had given me a knot in my stomach.
While we didn’t get to see each other as often as we’d like, we video chatted at least once a month and always spent the holidays together.
I knew he wasn’t going to take this lightly.
“You’re doing what?!” he had exclaimed when I got him on a video call two days after meeting Prince Oliver. “You know how insane this sounds, right? No fucking way.”
“Connor,” I heard Colleen gently chide from off screen. I said a silent word of thanks for my sister-in-law. She was the only one who could successfully diffuse our sibling arguments. She appeared just behind Connor. “Birdie is a grown woman and can make her own decisions.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t usually make absolutely insane decisions.”
“Hey, you’re the one who keeps pressuring me to find a guy and settle down and live the American dream.
Maybe the prince will be my love match and you can get after me about something else.
” I wasn’t sure I believed it even as I said it, but I loved nothing more than getting the last word with my brother.
Prince Oliver was great; there was no refuting that.
He was handsome and polite and a great conversationalist. And I couldn’t deny that I’d had a great time dancing with him at the club.
I was sure he would be a wonderful husband and partner—but the jury was still out on whether he would be the right husband and partner for me.
At least I could enjoy the adventure in the meantime.
Connor drew a breath to speak, but Colleen set her hand on his shoulder and gave him a sharp look. He sighed. “Fine. But this is the first year that Ellie understands what’s happening with the holidays, so you have to promise me that we’ll celebrate over a video call.”
A knife of guilt twisted my gut. I loved that little girl more than anything and would never want to disappoint her. “Of course. Tell her I promise we’ll still make our handprint turkeys for Thanksgiving, even if it’s from a distance.”
The flight attendant worked her way down the aisle, bringing me back to the present. My eyes felt heavy, so I popped in my earbuds, started up my favorite plane album by Mumford & Sons, reclined my comfy first-class seat, and promptly fell asleep.
The next thing I knew, the attendant was waking me up, asking me to put my seat forward in preparation for landing.
I hadn’t realized just how nervous I was until I looked out the tiny window at the snow-covered mountains of Wexstone.
Why are you nervous? I asked myself. You’re here to have fun on a once-in-a-lifetime experience and get a stamp on your passport. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that. Chill out.
But the butterflies in my stomach refused to settle as the plane touched down and made its way to the gate.
As exited the plane, I couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were on me. Even though I couldn’t spot anyone outright watching me, I was reminded that I was sure to be under scrutiny as this country dissected every last inch of me. The thought did nothing to settle my nerves.
Carry-on and passport in hand, I cleared immigration, grabbed my two checked bags, and headed to customs. I was still lost in my thoughts as I sent my suitcases through the scanner when I heard a customs officer say, “Miss? Miss, can you step this way, please?”
I looked up, startled to realize he was speaking to me. What in the hell could have flagged their attention? I had breezed through TSA PreCheck at JFK.
A jolt of panic swept through me as I remembered my friend Maggie’s bachelorette party in Las Vegas three months earlier and the small container of weed gummies I had tossed into one of my suitcase pockets and promptly forgotten.
Where they still in there? They must have spotted them, and I was about to kick off my time here in Wexstone with a visit to jail. Fuck.
I breathed in deeply through my nose, willing myself to stay calm.
“Miss, we need to take a look in your suitcase. We spotted something unusual on our scanners.” My vision narrowed as gloved hands unzipped the suitcase from the Vegas weekend. This was it. I was glad I had committed Sam’s phone number to memory for my one phone call from jail.
The customs officer rifled through the suitcase. Through my panic, I heard him say, “Ah.” He straightened, awkwardly holding up a black silicone vibrator.
My panic immediately turned to embarrassment. In addition to forgetting about the edibles, which I was now wishing they had found instead, I had also forgotten about the “prize” I had won at Maggie’s party by getting the most phone numbers over the course of the weekend.
“Our apologies, miss. We saw a, uh…a dark mass on the scanners and needed to check it out,” the officer said, quickly setting the vibrator back in the suitcase and zipping it up. “You are cleared and can head on your way.”
My face was still beet red as I took the suitcase. I was vaguely aware of whispers around me. I glanced over my shoulder to see several college-aged girls snapping photos on their phones before being reprimanded by an officer for using the devices.
Shit, shit, shit.
I quickly wheeled my bags down the short hallway and out a set of automatic doors and spotted Vince waiting for me, his hands in his coat pockets.
“Birdie! Welcome to Wexstone. How was your flight?” he asked as he kissed my cheek in greeting.
“Uh. Fine?” I responded, still flustered.
Vince grabbed my two suitcases, giving me a quizzical look as he led me to a sleek black SUV.
“Care to expand?” he asked.
I blushed again. I wasn’t eager to recount the experience to anyone besides Sam—I could already hear her howling with laughter—but Vince was my sponsor for the contest, and I knew that any bad press would reflect on him.
He had been too kind to hide this from him, especially if those photos made it online.
I buckled myself into the front seat as Vince settled in behind the wheel—I noticed that they drove on the right side of the road here—and I sheepishly told him what had happened.
Vince threw back his head, his deep laughter filling the car. He reached up and wiped his eyes as he continued howling.
“Are you crying right now?!” I whacked his upper arm in a sisterly manner. He nodded, tears of mirth streaming down his face. My embarrassment ebbed and I started chuckling in spite of myself. Soon we were both doubled over, gasping for breath as our laughter subsided.
“Okay, so I guess you aren’t mad,” I said, relieved.
“No,” he answered as he started the car.
“First of all, cannabis has been legal here since the beginning of the year. Second, don’t worry about the girls with the photos.
Chances are good that the customs officers confiscated their phones after they saw them taking pictures.
But no one knows who you are and why you are here yet, and if they do end up online, we’ll handle it.
Besides, it might do this country some good to remember that royals are humans with needs, too,” he said with one of his charming winks.
I hit him in the arm again. “Great, thanks. So reassuring.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I hope you don’t mind a busy time.” His grin widened as he drove.
“I’m ready,” I said. I had to be.
“We’ll head to my family manor. Tonight we’ll get you settled in and cleaned up, make sure you’re up to speed on what you need to know about Wexstone, maybe a bit of media training, and tomorrow night will kick off the introduction gala.
” He reached into his jacket and handed me a piece of paper.
I unfolded it to find an itinerary of the next several weeks.
“You weren’t lying when you implied we’d hit the ground running, huh?”
“At a full sprint. Love can’t wait!” He smiled from ear to ear.
An amiable silence settled over us as we drove through the capital city of Altborn.
Colorful old buildings lined the cobblestone streets, standing out against the bright white of the snow covering the ground.
On each street corner, street signs were hung above winter wreaths on antique-looking lampposts.
The Hallmark Channel had nothing on this place.