Sam groans. “And? I doubt you’re calling me because it went well.”

“She started spouting all this crap about how we’d be perfect together, and—”

I’m cut off by the sound of Sam’s laughter. “What did you expect?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jace, Gretchen’s been in love with you since we were eight. You seriously had no idea?”

Mike’s never going to let me forget this.

“How would I know that? She’s never said anything before tonight!”

“But she’s always trying to get your attention, and she laughs at your lame jokes.”

“Every girl does that.” With one glaring exception.

Sam scoffs. “Okay, that’s mostly fair. I still thought you had some idea. I can’t believe she finally said something to you.”

“I think alcohol may have factored in. She got wasted.”

“Well, your last girlfriend did turn out to be a princess. That’s a lot of pressure for a first date.”

“I’m having trouble remembering why I called you.”

Sam just laughs.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

VIVIENNE

The cover of this morning’s tabloids displays two photos side by side. One is the official engagement portrait Charles and I took last week. The other is a picture I’ve never seen before. It’s of me and Jace in Lincoln’s dining hall. Who Should She Choose? is the headline splashed across the front. I toss the papers to the side and turn on the television.

“—and in an additional twist in the story surrounding Jace Dawson, new photos were released last night of Princess Vivienne with him during her time at Lincoln. The most notable part of these photographs is what the princess is wearing.”

“I didn’t exactly expect to end up on national television,” I mutter in response to the commentary.

“In these new photographs, Princess Vivienne is wearing a Fulton Football sweatshirt. Now, according to Lincoln University’s website, Jace Dawson’s hometown is Fulton, Nebraska—”

I let out a series of swears.

“Your Highness? Anne would like to see you,” one of the maids utters nervously as she enters the room. I let out a long breath, still uttering obscenities. I leave the sitting room and head for the wing that houses the Royal Press Office.

I enter Anne’s large office and walk into the connecting conference room to find she’s already sitting at the round table in the center of the room. My mother, my father, and Richard are all seated as well, along with a couple of Anne’s assistants.

I heave out another sigh and take the solitary remaining seat.

“You wanted to see me, Anne?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Anne and her assistants all rise and curtsy.

“Well, what is it?” I ask.

“I assume you’ve seen the news this morning?” Anne inquires.

I nod.

“Simply put, no one seems to be interested in the fairytale engagement story while rumors about you and the American football player are still consuming the press. The official statement and the engagement announcement were meant to kill the story. Instead, it’s still gaining traction. We need an outright denial that you two are still romantically involved to salvage the publicity around the wedding. From both of you.”