I hide out for the rest of the night. If I let Jace do this, it will be the most selfish thing I ever do. But am I really letting him do anything? He was right; it’s his decision too. And he’s made it. It’s my turn to make mine.

I turn on the television when I wake up, and the story is already being covered in Marcedenia.

“We’ve just obtained a copy of a statement released in the United States today by the South Carolina Sharks. For those of you who are wondering why we’re covering this, they’re the football team Jace Dawson plays for. Or rather played for, since he is the subject of the press release. It states Dawson is leaving the Sharks for ‘personal reasons,’ but doesn’t elaborate on what those might be. The vague language is the topic being discussed on every sports station in the States right now, since Dawson seems to be voluntarily walking away from a contract worth millions after being heralded as the best American football player in decades. Of course, the leading theory on this is that it may have something to do with his former relationship with Princess Vivienne, despite the fact she is expected to wed Duke Vanderbilt’s son Charles in just a few months. When asked for a statement, the palace refused to comment, only spurring further speculation.”

I turn off the television and get dressed. I’m eating breakfast in my usual room when one of Anne’s assistants appears. “Anne would like to see you, Your Highness.”

I nod. “Do you know where my mother is?”

“She’s in Anne’s office, Your Highness.”

“Perfect.” I rise and make my way to the press offices. I knock on Anne’s shut door.

“Come in,” she calls.

I walk inside to see she’s seated at the table, along with my mother and another assistant. I recognize her from my session with Jace. Cara.

“Have a seat, Vivienne,” my mother says.

“We need to know what you want us to do, Princess,” Anne states. “We can’t keep saying ‘no comment.’ There’s no such thing. By refusing to comment, we’re saying a lot, and the story is already out of control. The president of Italy is scheduled to arrive this afternoon, and do you know how much time she got on the morning shows? Five minutes! Out of an hour long segment! I need to write a statement, and I need to know what to say.”

I nod and stand. “Can I talk to you and Papa?” I ask my mother. “Privately?” I’ve made my decision, but this doesn’t just affect me.

She stands as well. “He’s in his study,” she tells me. “Let’s go there.”

We make the trip in silence. I knock when we arrive at the heavy wooden door.

“Come in,” my father calls. I open the door, and my mother and I step inside before I close it.

My father looks up from his desk. “Well, this is an unexpected surprise.”