His Royal Highness Alexander Patrick Fitzwilliam, the Duke of D’Lynsal and heir to the crown of Lilaria, was the oldest child at twenty-seven with a younger brother, Maxwell Jameson Trevor, and a sister named Catherine Marie Rose. I clicked on the tab for Alex and read about his schooling, charities, and hobbies. I chuckled at the thought of him fishing and building things. Then again, I remembered his strong hands and decided it made perfect sense. There were several pictures of him alone, professional shots, and some candid pictures of him with his family or working with children.
I went back to the main menu and scrolled through some of the other royals. I stopped on Rousseau in surprise. Surely they wouldn’t have me listed yet.
But they did. Thank goodness there was no picture, but my full name, date of birth, schooling, and honors were listed. There was a short explanation about my upcoming reinstatement, but not a date. I was the twenty-fourth person in line for the crown. I almost shit my pants when I saw that little detail. I sat up straight and barked a laugh. I was in line for the crown. May every soul ahead of me live a long and prosperous life because that was not something I would ever want.
Below my information was a beautiful black-and-white picture of my mother with her birth and death dates. I ran my fingers over the screen and wondered where they had found the image. She was smiling at the camera, her head angled as if amused by something. Her biography and a list of her publications were listed below the picture. It was a small thing, but I was glad they had included her on the list.
I left that page and looked back through the other names. I looked through a list of charities the family was involved in and at pictures of state events. Jess deserved something nice for saving me from looking like an idiot in my jeans and boots. Thankfully, from what I could tell, my new clothes would fit in perfectly. The site didn’t really offer too much else for me, so I closed that page and went back through the other search results.
After a while I gave in to my impulses and typed Alex’s name into the search bar. I instantly regretted it. Headlines about a sex scandal popped up, links to stories about women he could be tied to, and speculation about what royal he would eventually marry. There were stories with the words player, model, stud, betrayal, and heartbreak in the titles. Like watching a train wreck, my eyes were drawn to the images icon. Maybe it was a sick impulse to torture myself or the need to make him feel even more unattainable, but I clicked on the link.
There are some things you can never un-see, and images of Alex in bed with another woman were on the top of that list. His bare back with sheets barely covering his h*ps and the look on the woman’s face would forever be etched into my psyche. There were pictures of the woman taking off her clothes while he watched from the bed. Pictures of her sitting on top of him that had to be from another day because she was wearing a different bra. It made me insanely jealous—angry enough to push my computer away and get up and pace around the room. I counted to ten. And then to twenty. I closed my eyes and scrubbed at my lids with the palms of my hands. I needed to calm down and think about this rationally. I knew he was a flirt and of course he had been with other women. It wasn’t like I hadn’t slept with guys before. Alex and I hadn’t shared anything but a couple of kisses. And yet… and yet, it still bothered me. After a few minutes I grabbed the computer off the bed and started to close all the windows, but a headline grabbed my attention.
“BETRAYED BY LOVER” was in huge letters over one of the pictures that thankfully had the more indecent parts fuzzed out. I needed to know, needed to see if this was something important. Maybe I just hoped it was important.
Prince Alex D’Lynsal of Lilaria is currently in a legal battle over pictures that were sold by an on-again, off-again ex-lover. In an official press release, the prince claimed the photographs had been taken without his permission and then used as blackmail. The royal family of Lilaria has taken a firm stance on the matter and refuses to answer any questions by the press.
It’s been speculated that the woman in the photos, Melissa Piaf, was trying to force the prince into marriage, but we’ve found no information to confirm those rumors. One thing is clear—the former model has made a name for herself. She announced on a national television show that several publishing and production companies had offered her money for her story. It remains to be seen if any of those deals come to fruition.
I sat back away from the computer and chewed on my thumbnail. If the press release from Alex was true, this Melissa woman was a real bitch. I couldn’t imagine waking up to find pictures of me with Chad or Thomas in the paper one morning. It must’ve been a terrible day—to have your personal bits flashed all over for the world to see. I checked the date on the article and sighed. Six months ago. I went back through the listings to see if there was any recent information. There wasn’t much else I could find. In fact, there were no recent images or stories about Alex until he came to the States. A few stories with pictures of us on campus or at the restaurant. It made my stomach turn. They talked about him like he wasn’t a real person, as if he shouldn’t care what they said about him. Now instead of feeling jealous, I just felt sick for Alex.
The thought of searching for my own name crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. Just the idea made me shudder. I closed the laptop and stuck it in my carry-on bag. Staring at the ceiling, I tried to turn my brain off, to stop thinking about the pictures and how terrible it was to imagine someone selling images of your intimate moments. Rolling onto my side, I punched my pillow, trying to get more comfortable.