I hadn’t kissed anyone in so long I was beginning to doubt I ever had. For the last few years I had all but ignored men, kept them at a distance.

As people RSVP’d and sent in joint gifts I was constantly reminded that I had no date for the wedding no one guaranteed to dance with me or to sneak away with me if we got bored. It wasn’t just the lack of sleep that had me down, though. It annoyed me, even though I knew they were doing it out of love, but it felt like they didn’t think I would be able to handle the responsibility. I knew they were worried about leaving too much for me and Max, my brother, to handle while they were away for their month-long honeymoon. They’d been tying up loose ends at the Future Bird Trust and attending to the immediate needs of their estates and royal duties. I hadn’t slept much in the last week, trying to keep the wedding stress from landing on my brother’s or Samantha’s shoulders. The blue of my eyes looked pale, almost gray in the sterile bathroom light. I brushed the stray blond hair out of my face. Turning back to the mirror in the guest bathroom, I traced the bags under my eyes with my fingers and sighed. I wasn’t sure why I was feeling antsy as my brother’s wedding drew near. I took a deep breath and let the curtain fall closed. I peeked out the curtain of the top floor when the doorbell chimed-another delivery of wedding gifts for the soon-to-be-married couple. THERE WOULDN’T BE more press outside of Rousseau Manor if Queen Elizabeth herself was planning to parade around in her panties while singing the British national anthem.

Recklessly Royal by Nichole Chase