The Royalty

Chapter 23

Songs: Replay by Zendaya, I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston

Chapter 23

The first few days of our honeymoon, we didn't even leave the house. America and I would sit around the living room talking or playing card games. One day, we didn't even get out of bed until two o'clock in the afternoon. It was fun to just hang out and not have any responsibilities or worries. Not leaving the house probably was a waste of our time in France. We were only taking two weeks away from the palace. Most people would probably find it unusual to not even go outside when you were already four days in to the trip, but we were just comfortable at the house.

Eventually, America decided that, despite how happy we were with staying inside, we needed to leave and spend some time out.

"It's not good to stay cooped up in this place the whole time, Maxon," she had said. "There is so much out there to do and to see. I saw this nightclub not too far away while we were driving here. Can we go? Please?"

America had given me puppy-dog eyes so, of course, I'd said yes.

That was how I ended up alone in our bedroom, fixing my tousled hair and shrugging on a blazer. America was in a room down the hall, needing help getting ready from the small group of maids that had tagged along for the trip in case we needed them.

Tonight, we wouldn't be going to the club alone. Father had insisted that a small group of guards would come on the trip with us and would be with America and I when we went out. I'd talked it out with the head guard and he'd said that him and the other guards would accompany us inside to ensure our safety, but would be wearing casual clothes to avoid suspicion. I wished we could go without them, but I bet if I ordered them to stay behind, word would get to my father and I doubted that he'd have anything less than a fit.

Once I finished double-checking that I looked decent in the mirror, I headed downstairs to wait for America. I'd never been to club so I had no clue what to expect. America had told me she had been to one before. She'd had to sneak in since she was underage, but she said it really wasn't that big of a deal. People talked, danced, and drank. Still, it was intimidating to walk into this new situation. It was just another way to show America just how little of the real world I'd been exposed to.

My nerves halted for a minute when I noticed America descending the stairs. My God, she was a sight. She wore a red, skin-tight dress that didn't even reach the middle of her thigh. The fabric clung to her curves, not leaving much for the imagination. Her hair was curled loosely and flipped over one shoulder. With the red hair and dress, America looked like a dancing flame. I found that I had to lean heavily on a nearby piece of furniture to steady myself.

After getting over my initial shock, I felt my expression harden. "You're not wearing that," I said once she'd reached me. America frowned.

"Why not?"

I sighed and gestured to her dress. "You're married. You don't need to show off for men at clubs. That dress, well, is the epitome of showing off."

She glared at me indignantly. "Is that what you think of me? You think I'm showing off? I can't just wear a dress because I like it?"

I realized how that'd sounded and how much of an ass I'd made of myself. I stuttered as I tried to correct my stupid comment. "No, that's not what I-"

She cut me off. "Did it ever occur to you that, if I was in fact showing off, that it was for you?"

No, it hadn't. All I'd thought of was the looks she'd receive from the men and how if any of them laid a finger on her, I'd probably end up punching them in the face.