Sixteen: Prince Cadoc
1423 Words
Chapter Sixteen
Prince Cadoc
“Will you STOP fidgeting?” Gwyneth ordered as she attempted in vain to tie my tie for me.
“Sorry,” I apologized, continuing to tap my leg repeatedly, “I can’t help it. She’s really doing this. Coming into my world. I didn’t think I’d be able to convince her.”
“Pessimist,” she finished fixing my tie, and gave me an approving smile. “There. She won’t be able to resist you.”
I stared at her. “Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you in my life?”
“Every now and then when you’re drunk,” she told me.
“Well, your wonderful. Even if we’re f****d up.”
She smiled again. “We know what we are to each other, darling. There’s nothing f****d up about that. Now, is your Mother going to be there?”
I nodded. “She was the one who convinced Dad not to send me to Russia after he found out about me sneaking a complete stranger to a secret guard training camp.”
“What’s she think?”
“Surprisingly enthusiastic,” I answered, “she wants her own Kate Middleton for the family. She hoped it would be you, but the scholarship girl from the wrong side of the tracks will do just fine too.”
She chuckled. “Practical woman, the Queen. Now, when did you tell them to get here?”
“About now,” I confessed, “should I be worried?”
“Well, if it were her alone, I would be. But it’s her and Audrey, so no.”
“Good point.” That didn’t stop me from glancing towards the door. I’d picked out her dress myself, with the help of Arwen, who assured me she would love it. It was a cream colored, silk Versace dress with nude ballet flats. I wanted her to look fashionable, but elegant and it had been hard to toe the line.
“She’ll do fine,” Gwyneth said, “she’s a tough cookie.”
“What makes you think so?” I asked.
“She hasn’t killed you yet,” Gwyneth replied.
There was a knock on the door. “Room service!” Audrey’s voice rang out.
I opened the door. Audrey wore a pink dress, with her hair done up. She looked lovely as always, and then there was Penelope.
Her hair was down, and she wore the necklace that I’d gotten her. It was a simple, white gold chain with a book charm.
I let out a breath. “You look....”
“Like an i***t?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Stunning,” I said, “you look stunning.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, “you don’t look so bad yourself.”
Gwyneth clapped her hands together. “Alright. Who is up for fashion and free gift bags? Because I am. Audrey, let’s go!” She grabbed Audrey’s hand, pulling her from the room.
Penelope and I followed shortly after. We took one of my cars, and Gwyneth popped a bottle of champagne on the way. We blared a suspiciously cheerful song about broken people, and I couldn’t take my eye off her the whole damn time.
The fashion show was being held at the Museum of Art and Entertainment, in a building that had been there since the turn of the century. Outside, two majestic, stone dragons guarded it. There was a red carpet, a line of photographers, and throngs of people. The four of us made quite the group, and I could only imagine what the captions would be.
Something about me having a harem of girls, probably, or being a playboy. But I didn’t care. I was there, with her, and that made everything okay. I walked the red carpet with my hand on the small of her back the entire time. If she cared, she didn’t say a word, and I was glad.
She might not have been mine. But she was.
We sat in the front, and we watched as my sister introduced the event.
Skinny, blond, and short my sister flitted on stage like a pixie. “Hello everyone, and welcome to the tenth annual fashion show. Tonight’s events will feature the best Welsh fashion designers, and the proceeds for the evening will go towards the Welsh Academy of Ballet.”
The crowd clapped politely. Arwen smiled at the audience, and then walked off the stage as the music started pulsating. The models came on the stage, dressed in their fall best, looking like faeries from A midsummer night’s dream.
Penelope watched; her eyes fixated on the models.
I wrapped my arm around her, one hand squeezing her bare shoulder. She blushed prettily. “You know, you look fetching in that dress.”
She smiled. “How’d you know my size?”
“I’m a man of many talents,” I said, “also Audrey told me.”
“I’m going to kill her later,” she muttered.
“You already agreed to go,” I said pointedly.
“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I like feeling like I have people playing matchmaker for me.”
“We’re not playing matchmaker,” I said, “we’re just trying to make sure that you fit into our world. Events like these, that’s part of being at Hollow Hills. If you hadn’t come with me, everyone else would have been here, and you would have been left alone.”
“I feel like everyone’s watching us,” she confessed.
“Probably,” I said, “but that’s my world. Look, it will be done soon, and then we’ll go to the afterparty. That’s the real reason people go to these things anyway. Booze, food, and free gift bags.”
“Audrey did mention something about free gift bags,” she said, looking a little brighter.
“If you’re lucky, maybe we’ll even get to dance together.”
“I think I’d like that.”
“Me, too.”
It was hard to concentrate on the models. In years past, I would have been there with Jasper by my side. We both would have convinced some girls to go home with us, gotten shite faced, and a good time would have been had by all.
This time, the fashion show wasn’t about me. It was about making Penelope feel comfortable in my world, or if she didn’t, at least getting her to want to be part of it. I wanted her to love the glitz and the glamour. The opportunity.
I’d even purposely had Arwen invite Margot March, the editor of the Welsh fashion magazine Couture. Margot had gone to school with my Mother, and the magazine had written multiple articles about our family over the years. I was hoping to get an internship for Penelope, so that she could get a taste of what it was like to be a real journalist. But it was hard. I was toeing the line between getting her what she wanted and what I wanted.
Which was her, by my side, forever.
If she got the internship, loved it, and did well…. I’d be happy for her. But I knew that there was a chance that she wouldn’t want to be with me. I didn’t know what would happen if we weren’t able to be together.
After the fashion show finished, we went to roam the museum. They also had champagne, and tiny little hors d’oevres being served. Gwyneth and Audrey had disappeared some time ago, going to schmooze with a few celebrities they knew.
It was just us, alone, by the bar. I was sixteen, and not supposed to drink, but that didn’t stop the servers from giving us champagne flutes. That was the thing about being a Prince. You got whatever you wanted, even when you didn’t really want it.
- Writer
