Royal Fake

“No, Dad, I’m not. I’m marrying Avery Johnson. I’d gladly discuss this with you tomorrow at twelve, but we won’t be doing much more than signing some legal contracts. My mind is made up. I’ve found a suitable wife, who I’m sure you will love, and I plan to throw a party to make introductions and formally announce my engagement. If you want, you can get started with those arrangements.” I didn’t give him any time to rebuff me.

“Now, listen here, Liam,” he began to scold.

“Can’t. I have to go get my princess and get on the jet. See you in a few hours.” With that, I ended the call and bolstered my inner caveman as I readied my club to go and drag my future queen onto the plane.

I kind of didn’t care what she was thinking at that moment; I had to get her to Ireland and away from her people so that I could convince her to just give this mad idea a chance. I rang her as I drove to the address my security team had provided.

“Hi Liam,” she answered sounding as trepidatious as I thought she might.

“Hello, Princess,”—yes, I went there—I had to use everything I had. “So, I’m on my way to pick you up. Just checking to make sure you’re ready. And I know you might be thinking I’m a stalker, but I had to get you a security clearance, so I know where you live, legitimately.” I was oddly starting to babble, so I took a deep breath.

“Liam,” I did not like the way she said my name.

“Don’t have second thoughts, Avery, this is going to be wonderful, I promise.” I was losing her; I should have never let her out of my sight.

“No, it’s just… um… well, my roommate and Kylie have staged a kind of intervention…” her voice tapered off.

“Don’t you dare come near her…” I heard shouted by a shrill woman’s voice in the background. Great, I certainly didn’t need anyone swaying her further away from me.

“…and my Mom and Dad are on their way,” she seemed to apologize. Ugh, I didn’t think it could get worse.

“You’re an adult, certainly you can make your own decisions,” I huffed to the wrong person as it was her posse I needed to convince, not her.

“Well, they don’t seem to think I am.” I loved the tinge of anger in her voice, cause in that anger there was hope.

“Hold on, I’m almost there.” I ended the call and leaned into the driver. “Make it as fast as you can.” I used my most officious and commanding voice, but alas, it was New York, officious and commanding was bollocks.

“This isn’t a helicopter Your Majesty, I can’t go faster.” Though the driver’s voice was tempered, I could sense the irritation in it.

I hated that I had to leave James behind. If anything I could have bullied him into taking a side street and going faster, but I was stuck with the hotel’s elite travel partner… fuck it. I was going to have to just sit back and be prepared to come out of the car with my dukes up. When we did manage to get through traffic, I didn’t even wait for the driver to park. I jumped out as soon as he slowed down and dashed my way up to several flights of stairs to Avery’s apartment. It struck me only momentarily that I should have brought my bodyguards and security staff rather than sneak out and use James’ name to fetch a car. Since James had been pretending to be me for most of the trip it wasn’t hard to do. The Concierge didn’t even bat an eye when I used James’ name to book the car instead of mine.

Thinking perhaps I might be met with vehement adversaries, I wished I’d brought some muscle along. My acting skills were the only defense I had. Luckily, I’d studied theatre quite intensively at university, as I found it much easier to do my duty to the crown after honing the craft and using it to my advantage. I knocked on the door ready to rescue my damsel in distress.

“Are you serious, Avery?” I heard an angered voice call through the door.

“What? Alec did the very same thing when you hid out from him and I’m not hiding, you’re keeping me from going!” Avery shouted.

I was only a little surprised to see Kylie Morgan-Blair answer the door. I knew that Avery and she were close friends but didn’t expect to find her and Alec Blair emotionally armed and ready to toss me on my arse.

“Good Afternoon, I’m Liam McMurrough, the Prince of Ireland, I’ve come to collect Avery. Is she here?” I knew damn well she was there.

“Come in,” Kylie glared. How dare she glare like that? From what I’d read about her she’d had quite a scandalous past. Who was she to judge?