Royally Screwed

14

"Why do we have to do this?" The Crown Prince asked, looking a bit annoyed with the photo shoot we were having. Two people stood in front of us, and one at my side both with iPhones in hand. 

The woman in charge was a dark haired beauty with warm brown eyes and light brown skin. She clicked her tongue looking at her dashboard, "It's for Alana's instagram, your Grace."

"Her instagram, again," he huffed looking really irritated. Yesterday, he was happily mocking me as I held a piece of cake to my face and did multiple, I'm pretty while eating cake shots. Now that he was the one behind the iPhone, I could tell it agitated him.

I smiled, payback's a bitch.

"She's in the public eye, your Grace, everyone wants to know her." My social media manager said, tapping her board, "Have any of you got a shot? We've got a lot of cutesy photos we need to shoot."

I turned smirking a little at Philip. It had been painful for me to deactivate all my social media channels and then recreate new ones for the public eye. I had an official Facebook, Instagram and Twitter account to converse. My re-branding was more everyday girl than a Royal who was too busy to have social media. The team was doing a good job of making me a social media butterfly. Since my engagement, my public profile has gotten 500k followers and counting. For them, it's a way to keep the press of my tail and focus about what made me more likeable.

"Come on, Philip, it's not that hard," I said reassuringly turning to look at him. His glance back told me he still remembered how I had to take pictures for an hour just to get a good shot of me eating cake.

"You both looked too forced," My social media manager huffed. "Freestyle, look in love."

He let go of my hand and I wasn't sure what to do. I could tell the same for Philip. He put his hand around my shoulder and smiled at the camera.

"No, we want something candid," The social media manager said, it's a wonder how she can sound less irritated.

Philip frowned.

"Hug her," she urged.

Philip obeyed. Almost robotically. Maybe that was missing in our lives, we're following a script and we're not actors.

"I think I can stuff Alastor and Greg in between the two of you." She groaned. Never mind, I didn't know who the two of them were but by her exasperated tone, I could guess they were large.

I shuffled closer, pressing my face to his chest. I could smell him, the fine perfume replaced the smell of the salt water he always swam in. His clothes were tight, casual, fitting his body. With me pressing so close to him, I could feel his heartbeat which skipped a beat at the sudden proximity. 

"Alana," Philips voice rumbled.

"Mhm?" I moved back a little to see his dark eyes.

Then his lips were on mine, in a light hesitant kiss. 

"Perfect! We got the shot!" I heard dimly in the background. I was more focused on his lips on mine but he pulled back at that, a grin on his features.

"Finally," he said pleased, "Can I go now?"

"No, we need another five shoots and tomorrow, you've got to do the engagement photo shoot that we'll play on your wedding. Think of this as practice." She smiled as our eyes met, "The two of you, go get changed into your next outfit. Philip get rid of that lipstick stain, Alana go get a touch up."

I bent down, covering the flush that formed and ignoring the feelings that had fluttered awake in my stomach from our kiss, nodding and trying to be as business like as I could. Yet, I couldn't ignore the feelings of warmth that woke up in my stomach. I didn't want to be the only one who felt that way.

Later that evening, I checked my instagram page to see which photo they uploaded. My stomach flipped and a stupid grin crept up my face, they were right, they had a perfect shot.

---

Philip came late into my bed, shirtless and exhausted as he slipped under the duvet. "You're late," I whispered.

"One week left to our wedding, my mother wants everything to be perfect." He mumbled.

"I'm scared."

"Me too."

"I don't know the person I'm marrying," I continued, searching his eyes for the tourist I liked for the boy that gave me butterflies when he kissed me in todays shoot.

He faltered, "well, you can ask me questions."

I didn't pause to think, the question slipping out from my tongue. "Did you go to university?"

"Georgetown University, I graduated with a masters degree in International Relations Law and Organisation." 

I blinked, a little startled, "Did you have any girlfriends?"

Philip laughed, "I've dated three girls, all of them were intimidated by my crown."

"Who were they?"

"My first girlfriend was at sixteen, she was the daughter of a visiting Italian ambassador. We were the same age and played together. The ambassador stayed for a month, and we were in a relationship two weeks in her visit and we stayed together for a year till the distance bothered us a lot."

"What's her name?"

"Venetia." 

"Did you love her?"

"Puppy love?" Philip guessed, "by the time we ended it was mutual. We're still friends. The next girl I dated was the Princess of Netherlands, her father was visiting and we liked each other, she was 18, I was 22. She wasn't the crown princess either, and my mother liked a lot. I think you might have heard of her, Princess Sofie." He paused. 

I shook my head, my knowledge of the monarchy system was poor, much less how many royals there were. 

"Regardless we ended on a bad note much to the disapproval of both our parents who wanted us to at least, stay together. I think my mother was hoping I'd still come around when I came home from Australia if it wasn't her, my mum would have liked me to court Princess Fabianne from Belgium."

"I doubt she wanted a baby from me."

He smiled, "Neither did I, I just needed a friend."

"Me too," I admitted. "So who's number three?"

"A close friend, we got closer since Sofie can be a tad bit demanding and she often caught me on my bad days. She tried cheering me up often and soon I left Sofie for her." He was silent on the bed, "I love her."

A sharp pang hit me. "But you two broke up?"

"A month before Australia," he replied.

"Why?"

"The crown naturally, she wasn't a royal or daughter of an ambassador or anything of worth," Philip laughed, "we were a secret couple, hardly anyone knew about it."

"Who was she?"

Philip had a bittersweet smile, "you'll laugh but her name is Destiny, she's also Greek."

"I'm sorry," I apologised. For being here, for marrying you, for not giving you a shot at true love.

Philip ran a hand through his messy hair. "You didn't chose this."

I turned around the bed, moving away from him. It was easy with all the space this bed had to offer. I paused. "Would you have dated me if this all never happened?"

"We were on our first date when we realised you might be pregnant Alana," Philip answered, he sunk in the bed, pulling the duvet with him. "Get some sleep Alana."

"Goodnight," I whispered.

I tried to ignore the sharp pang in my chest at the name Destiny at the way he said it, the feelings that her name evoke in his eye.

Love.

He loved her, he still loves her. 

And I've never had the chance to love someone.