My Royal Engagement [PG+13] - [Royally Screwed #1]

8. Monte Carlo

Secrets were utter bullshit.

“Stop your moaning, little cousin for tonight, we meet our brides!” he grinned ecstatically. “I’ve got a feeling that tonight’s’ going to be lovely.” He had a mischievous smirk etched on his lips that I almost felt as if he were hiding something from me.

Right now though, I had bigger fish to fry—bigger things to think of. Like a kingdom that I will most likely gain to a bride I’d never met. Loveless marriage and all. At least they’d come from a good family. Growing up, I’d always been told I could have my fun with girls but I could never tie them down—get too attached. A part of me was used to it but there was  a part of me that yearned for real companionship—I’d been too lonely, the money—the fake friends were nothing compared to the real deal and the closest I got to that was fake too. Nothing I was is or ever will be close to real.

That was the bullshit here.

I’d never resented my fiancée—never thought ill of her because I always had it in my mind that she was like me—she was caged too and she would never get what she truly wanted. She had no choices so I sympathized with her. Maybe that would be enough for the rest of our lives.

 For now though I had to worry about tonight, about a masked girl in a sea of unknowns.

Tonight was going to be a challenge. Le Ballon d’hiver. The Winter Ball.

****
Dressed in a stitched, white, long sleeved cotton shirt, I put on the crimson velvet vest jacket over my body, tying the laces together in the front. I was—thankfully—allowed to choose my own costume for the night because my mother apparently had guests over so when I found out, I picked the least complicated and least most pompous and toned it down. It should have had gigantic shoulder pads but me, myself and I being who I am was allowed to choose what I wanted. In the end I chose plain black dress pants, a Shakespearean-era shirt that had baggy sleeves and a tie-up, crimson velvet vest jacket.

I was glad this was a masquerade because even if it was the least pompous, I looked—for lack of better words—like a jackass.

Behind me, someone made a wolf whistle and I found Louis, his black hair combed back along with his piercing blue eyes staring me up and down with amusement twinkling in his eyes. I threw a belt that was meant to go with my costume at his head and he easily dodged it and let out a laugh. Unlike me, Louis chose to ignore the dress code and wore a modern-day royal blue velvet Prince Charming costume, a freaking crown to match.

Such an idiot. 

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t allowed to wear it but since we were the hosts, we needed to stand out. So here I was, in the dressing room of my suite in the Fairmont. Since we were making a statement we didn’t stay in our palace and instead booked the whole of the Fairmont for our guests and ourselves. The ballroom was ready and the five-star restaurant was open for the whole night so that our guests could eat as they wished.

“You ready to meet our future wives?”

“You ready for me to kick you in the face?”

“You wound me, William.” He smirked.

“Just get out.” I said, clenching my fists. He really had to call me that, didn’t he? “Meet me at the ballroom.”

“How about no.”

“How about just get out! You’re such a child! You’re twenty years old, grow up!”

And our banter continued like that…for the next three hours.

Juliet’s POV

“Damn, I look good.” I said, staring at myself up and down at the full length mirror. Tonight was…going to change my life. For better or worse? I don’t know. The past two days were pretty exciting—a whirlwind of excitement actually that I thought none of it was real.