Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(19)

Yeah, looked like it was going to be your typical school dance.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m glad I caught you. Dean Morgan has requested a progress meeting. He wants to see how you’re settling in.”

Alarm bells tinkled in my head because the timing of this was very convenient—right after I’d found out about everything and tried to break up with Alex. Maybe they’d noticed I was avoiding him? Or maybe this was about Brandon. Either way, it was a good opportunity to gather some information—and I didn’t even have to create an excuse to do so. It was handed to me like fate was giving me exactly what I wanted.

“When does he want to see me?” I asked, annoyed that I might miss the soccer game if it was now. Sure, I’d acted like Mattie had to drag me along, but truth be told, I was turning into a secret superfan of this damn sport.

“Monday morning before class will suffice,” he said. “Just come along whenever you’re dressed and ready. We’ll accommodate you.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I’ll be there.”

He nodded before tipping his head to Mattie. “Greetings, Princess Matisse. Hope you have a wonderful day.”

He turned and walked away. Mattie didn’t say a word, but the look on her face was one of distaste. “Never trusted him,” she said, slipping her arm through mine. “He’s hiding something for sure. Don’t go to the meeting without me.”

I shrugged. “I can look after myself.”

She chuckled before tugging me along. “I know you can, but that’s when someone comes at you face to face. These bastards are sneaky. They’ll never be honorable about it, and you’re so new to this world. It’s backstabbing and deception at every turn. Just… make sure you take me along.”

“Sure, sounds like a plan,” I said. I felt better knowing she’d be with me.

We hurried through the academy to the sports arena, and I blinked at the new security detail waiting at the main entrance. Four of them blocked the way, checking every person before they were allowed entry.

We had our bags searched, a quick pat down, and a guard used a scanner, running it across us to detect… something.

“Has there been a threat?” Mattie asked the closest guard, a female, probably ten years older than us.

Her face showed her displeasure at being questioned, especially with the crowd behind us waiting their turn, but she clearly recognized the princess addressing her and thought better of brushing Mattie off.

“Resistance agents have been seen in the area,” she said, her accent mild. “There was also a bombing in an upmarket German street. Dean Morgan felt it was prudent to incorporate more security for these large events.

Mattie’s expression didn’t change with this information; she just nodded and murmured, “Thank you,” before she dragged me into the main stadium. We didn’t chat as she used her epic bitch face and some sharp elbows to secure us our usual seats directly behind our home team.

"So,” I finally whispered. “That was weird. Have you heard anything about the resistance being in the area?”

She swallowed, moving her head much closer to mine. “My parents sent us coded updates that basically advised the new threat level around Arbon is a three. One is neutral, two is caution, three means there’s legitimate concern.”

Great. “This isn’t about the fights?”

She shook her head. “No, definitely not. The fights have been run for years, and nothing weird is happening there, outside of the raids. That side of the resistance is just fun and games; it’s the other side we have to worry about.”

Like we didn’t have enough to deal with.

Deciding not to dwell on it now, I turned away from the security still scanning people and out into the stadium. “Whoa.” I surveyed the crowd. “Big turnout today. Who are we playing again?"

Mattie wrinkled her nose at me. "Damn girl, have you been under a rock lately? We’re playing the Princeton Panthers."

"Oh." My mouth rounded in surprise. "We’re playing a team from New America?"

Mattie nodded. "Yep, and there's some bad blood there with Jordan. He was supposed to attend Princeton, you know?"

I shook my head. "No, I didn't know. What happened? I thought all royals came here to Arbon."

"Nope." Her gaze was locked on the field, her eyes tracking the opposing team as they warmed up with drills across the field. "Not all of us. Just lots."

I frowned at her, then followed her line of sight again. She wasn't tracking the team... She was tracking a player.

"Who's number twelve, Mattie?"

Her gaze shot to mine, wide-eyed and guilty, while her cheeks stained pink. "Huh? Why would you ask that?"

I grinned back at her, smug as shit for guessing correctly. "So? Who is he?"

She cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the field. "No one. Anyway, what was I saying? Right. Jordan. So every other New American heir has actually attended Princeton since like... forever. Since the Monarch War."

"Right, so literally every New American king?"

"Exactly. But Jordan and Rafe went to high school together at Arbon Prep and became the best of friends. So Jordan applied to Arbon without his father's approval, then when he was accepted, there was this whole scandal because King Munroe couldn't decline the enrolment without insulting all the other royals attending Arbon. Like he thought his country offered a superior education for his son or something." Mattie spoke at a million miles an hour, like she could make me forget the hot guy she'd been eye-fucking across the field. He was cute, I'd give her that. But I thought Mattie liked her guys with more... vagina?