Chapter 7

C HAPTER 7

Thanks to a healthy dose of internet stalking, I know that the sweaty, half-naked boy in front of me is Theo's younger brother, Henry. If I hadn't seen pictures of him with Theo, I wouldn't have guessed that they're related, thanks to Henry's dark curly hair, dark eyes, and the dimple on his right cheek. I can't see the dimple now, though, because he's frowning at me, his bare skin glistening as he uses a balled-up shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

"This is the moment where you tell me who you are and beg me not to call security," he says.

I'm surprised by his threat, because Theo would never. "I'm Wren."

He stares at me blankly, which is the soul-crushing moment I realize Theo hasn't told his brother anything about me.

"Go ahead and call Winston if you have to," I say defensively.

Henry's dark eyes flash at my casual mention of Theo's bodyguard. "Does my brother know that you're here?"

I bristle at the question. "He's the one who brought me here."

Henry blinks at me wordlessly before checking his phone. He turns his back to make a call and lets out a frustrated grunt when no one picks up. "I'm not trying to be rude, but Theo couldn't be arsed to tell me that he'd be having visitors."

I hold my hands up. "I'm kind of a surprise."

Henry snorts with laughter. Theo didn't talk much about his brother, except to say that Henry would make a better monarch, but I know the basics from the internet. Henry Alexander Philip James is eighteen years old. His birthday is in January, he goes to school in Scotland, and he's allergic to shellfish. He's not depressed. (As far as I know.) He's cute. (It runs in the family.) And he's just some guy. (As in, nothing about him screams should-have-been-king .)

Henry pushes his curls out of his eyes. "So, why are you here?"

I'm tempted to explain the situation with the paparazzi before I remember that Theo said we needed to get our story straight. I shrug. "You'll have to ask the King."

"Are you the girl from the train-station video?" He narrows his eyes at my orange hair with suspicion, and it seems like a good time to change the subject.

"I didn't see you at the park this morning."

He rolls his eyes. "You wouldn't have, as I was uninvited."

"Why?"

"You'll have to ask the King," he says with a wink, clearly pleased with himself. I'm struggling with how to respond when the door bangs open.

Comet barges in first, turns three circles on the rug in front of the fireplace, and then flops down on his belly. Victoria is next, and she stops short when she sees me. She has a small frame and hair that looks dark blond or light brown, depending on the light.

Her eyes narrow at the sight of me. "You're the girl in the pictures."

"Guilty," I say.

"What pictures?" Henry asks.

Theo enters the suite behind her, his expression stormy. "I tried to kill the story, but they didn't even give us a chance."

"Are we surprised?" Victoria's low voice drips with sarcasm.

Theo surveys his sister with a furrowed brow. "Did you get out of the park okay? Did the paps follow you? Do you need to eat?"

"What pictures?" Henry asks again as he crosses the room to join his siblings.

Victoria waves away Theo's concern and addresses Henry instead. "I'll show you." She stretches out on the rug, her head resting on Comet's belly; Henry and Theo crowd around her phone.

There's a quick knock at the door and Winston pops his head in. "Ms. Wheeler, your sister and friend are here. I've directed them to the Gold Suite, however—"

"Wren!" Brooke elbows her way past Winston and into the room, glaring daggers at me. "What is going on? Who in the fu—" She sees half the royal family and her words die in her throat.

Silence reverberates through the room.

"Hey, Brooke," the King says, grinning widely. "Fancy a cuppa?"

Brooke goes slack-jawed at being personally addressed by Theo. "Apologies, Your Majesty," she says, sinking into a quick curtsy. I'm shocked she knows how to do that.

"Take a cue from your sister—there's no need to curtsy in here," Theo says.

"Speak for yourself," Victoria says without looking up from her phone. "Maybe I want the Americans to curtsy for me."

"Good luck with that. If there's one thing I know about Wren, it's that she doesn't give a shit about my title, and she will never curtsy." He winks at me, charm oozing off him again. "That's why we're friends." He tips back another drink.

And with that, I've officially run out of the mental capacity for this conversation. "I'm going to leave."

Theo steps toward me. "I can show you to your room."

"I'll find it."

"It's right next door."

"Easy enough. Knock on the wall three times when I'm allowed to leave." I whistle for Comet to follow me.

He stands, forcing Victoria off his stomach, and trots to my side, licking my hand once to say hello. "Can I bring him to my room?"

Theo's eyes dart to his sister. She frowns. "I guess technically he's yours," Victoria says begrudgingly.

"Technically, he is! Thank you for remembering." I push Brooke between the shoulder blades, steering her out of the room.

"Teenagers," Winston mutters under his breath as he returns my phone on our way out of the suite.

The door next to Theo's is already open, and Naomi is standing with her arms crossed in the open doorway. She frowns, clearly annoyed at having missed out on meeting Theo. I lock the door behind the three of us and scan our room. (Nicer than a Holiday Inn, but not as nice as Theo's room.) Brooke and Comet eye each other as he sniffs her from toe to butt.

"This is the dog?"

"That's him."

"His eyes aren't blue."

I slant her a look. "It wasn't about the dog."

"No shit, Wren! I was scared out of my mind! Naomi shows up in some James Bond car outside the crepe restaurant and insists I get in! I thought we were being Taken !"

"Okay, relax!" I hold up a hand. "No one is being abducted. We're here temporarily because some paparazzi took pictures of Theo and me. They're already online."

Naomi whips out her phone and starts scrolling. "‘Teen King High on Love in Toronto's High Park'!" She screams in delight. "It says that he was caught snogging a mysterious redhead while he was supposed to be on royal tour. Oooh, it sounds like he might be in trouble."

"‘Snogging'?" I shriek, snatching the phone to scroll through the rest of the pictures. "All we did was hug. That's a stretch!"

"‘Redhead' is a stretch," Naomi muses.

"Will someone please explain to me what is going on?" Brooke demands, and it's a reminder that Theo's not the only one who's been keeping secrets from his siblings.

"Don't think you can put this one off any longer," Naomi says, kicking off her shoes and sinking onto one of the beds, still scrolling.

When Theo and I were on the run in Europe, I'd told my family the bare minimum: that I'd met someone who owned a private plane and agreed to let me use it. Other than Naomi, no one knows that I spent Comet Week with Theo, despite a viral video of us from a train station that showed my blurry profile traveling with the runaway prince. I was worried someone from home would recognize me, but I didn't need to be. I had no connection to the royal family, and there was too much going on for anyone from Chicago to care who Prince Theo was spending his last days with. Brooke had even seen our marriage certificate and brushed it off as a joke.

"Do you remember when I told you that I met a boy in London?"

Brooke stares at me, dumbstruck for only a second as I watch her put the pieces together. "The private plane?"

"His."

"The boy in the Polaroid?"

"Him."

"The reason you've been in a funk all summer?"

Warmth rushes to my cheeks. I shrug sheepishly.

"Wren, you might have a problem," Naomi says, looking up from her phone with a worried expression.

"What now?"

"This website identified you as the girl in that train-station video. They also have your first and last name and know that you're an incoming freshman at Northwestern."

Brooke's eyes grow to the size of world-ending comets. She grabs my forearm and pins me in place. "Is that marriage certificate real?"

"I don't know," I admit.

"Wren!" She groans, raking her hands through her hair. "Mom is a lawyer! You didn't think to ask her to look into it?"

"I didn't want Mom and Dad to find out!"

"They'll know now."

Crap. Another thing to worry about.

"Where is it?" Brooke asks.

"Winston has it."

"Who?"

"The hot bodyguard!"

"I want to see it."

"It's probably in Theo's room. Go ahead and ask."

"I will!"

"Great! Do it!"

I stare at her expectantly. She doesn't move.

I'm shocked. I've never seen my big sister back down from anything. "Wait. Are you scared of him?"

Brooke scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Why'd you curtsy like that?"

She stands up, huffs across the room, and slams the bathroom door behind her, yelling " It's protocol! " through the closed door.

I flop backward on the bed. "That could have gone better."

Naomi pushes herself onto her elbow, propping her head up with her hand. "Do you want the good news or the bad?"

"Good, I guess?"

"You won't have to tell your parents about the wedding."

My stomach drops. "Why not?"

She winces. "The bad news is pretty bad," she says gently.

"Bloody hell!" A shout, followed by a long string of swear words, travels through the walls from Theo's room into ours. Fear prickles along my neck.

"Tell me."

Naomi hands over her phone. "I'm sorry, Wren."

Her phone is open to a gossip tabloid. I scroll through the headlines as my chest caves in.

Secret Wedding Disaster! Leaked Marriage Certificate Shocks Britain

King Theo Duped into Marrying Desperate American

Royal Crisis: American Wren Wheeler Reaches for the Throne!