I was helping Roni compose a social media statement when my phone exploded with a completely different set of notifications. Julian had just posted a photo to his i********: account—one that showed him and me in what looked like an intimate embrace, my head resting on his shoulder and his arms around my waist.
The caption read: "When your pharmaceutical princess needs comforting after fake engagement scandals, sometimes a prince must provide royal support 👑💙 #AshwickDrama #RoyalFriendship #NotDating #OrAreWe"
"What the hell?" I stared at the image, trying to remember when it had been taken. Then I recognized the background—it was from weeks ago when Julian had found me crying in the library about Alexander's protective manipulation. He'd hugged me for maybe thirty seconds while offering
