Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
In fact, if I had one wish, it would be to make it all go away. To wake up one day and stop being Prince Sebastian Nigel Fairleigh Ambrose, Prince of Frostmonte, heir to the throne of Frostmonte Castle. I even liked Henry’s name better than mine. Henry Denton. Simple. Two names. Easy to spell, say, and remember. He sounded like a normal fifteen-year-old. I definitely didn’t.
“It’s not even seven o’clock,” I protested. “I don’t go to bed at seven.”
“Right,” Henry said, watching me with a glimmer of teasing in his eyes. “But you need to go in, have a cup of tea with your aunt and uncle by the fireplace, make your phone call to queen mommy dearest, plan out tomorrow’s activities, lay out an outfit for yourself, take a bath, get in bed, do your nightly winding-down routine—”
“Shut up,” I said, giving him a small shove as he giggled at me. “You have routines, too.”
“Sure don’t.”
“You drink orange juice right out of the bottle, every single morning. Super gross,” I said.
“That’s not a routine, that’s just delicious,” he protested.
“And you definitely never go to sleep without turning on the hall light.”
He looked down at the ground, packing the soil with the toe of his boot.
“Well, yeah. Gotta have the hall light on in case I get up to pee.”
“In case a ghost is lurking in the hall, you mean?”
“Shut up,” he said, his smile widening.
“It’s okay to be afraid of ghosts,” I said. “I’m afraid of everything else in the world.”
“I’m only afraid of what your aunt is going to do if you don’t get back inside soon,” he said.
I let out a slow sigh. “Probably roast me up for tomorrow’s dinner. I do have a lot left to do tonight. I should get back.”
I had a momentary pang of longing for the days when my father was still alive. Even though he was the king of Frostmonte, he’d still come down to Berrydale on Sundays to attend church with his siblings, my aunt and uncle.
It was how I’d fallen so in love with Berrydale to begin with.
But my father was gone. Those days were gone. And now staying with my aunt and uncle only meant one thing: I got to be next door to Henry. f
And Henry made me feel like I was someone special because he liked me. The real me. Not just because I was a prince.
The air was silent between us, but I didn’t want to go home. I rubbed the back of my neck, my fingers icy cold against my skin.
I could tell he didn’t want to leave, either. If he’d been my boyfriend instead of a hopeless crush, I would have kissed him.
When I glanced back at the house I saw my aunt’s silhouette in the window. She was waiting. She knew I’d stay out here forever if I could.
“You know I’m not going anywhere, right, Sebastian?”
I turned back to Henry, swallowing over the stupid tightness in my throat. “I know you’re not.”
His eyes searched me, seeing right through me.
“I’ll be here when you get back from your holidays at the castle,” he said. He reached out, tugging on the sleeve of my coat. “I’m always here.”
It was true. He was always right here, one of the only things in my life I could count on to make me feel good.
“Let’s go sledding tomorrow, if it snows. Before I have to go back to the castle?” I asked.
Henry closed the distance between us and covered me in a big bear hug. “You know I’m just fucking with you, right?” he said, his voice soft. “When I tease you about the routines? I know your life is different than mine. It has to be.”
He smelled so strongly of pine after handling the sapling, and the bulk of his coat against my skin felt like being in a cloud.
“I know,” I said.
I let my gaze linger on Henry as he pulled away.
“See you tomorrow,” Henry said as he started back toward his house next door.
With every step he took, I felt the inside of my sternum ache a little more, like he had a string tied around my torso that tightened the further he was from me.
After tomorrow, I was going to have to be away from Henry for three long weeks. Twenty-two days, to be exact. My mother was set to arrive tomorrow evening to take me back to the castle for the holidays.
Berrydale Village was all warmth and kindness. Simple people with simple lives. People who’d rather talk about mulch or pot roast or TV shows than international royal politics. People who didn’t only think about bloodline and lineage. A sense of normalcy.
Frostmonte Castle was… icy. Cold stone and long, grey corridors. It was massive, and beautiful in an austere way, but every time I was in the castle I ended up alone in my room, looking out the window down at the villages below, wishing I was back in Berrydale. The only home I actually cared about.