Majesty (American Royals, #2)(5)

In the aftermath of her breakup with Jeff, Nina had spent a lot of time at home. It was just so comforting, eating her parents’ cooking and sleeping in her childhood bed. Avoiding the curious glances of her college classmates.

But she had more friends now, had carved out a place for herself. She no longer felt a desperate need to escape.

Thanks, Mom, but I’ll stay on campus for now, she typed in reply. Love you!

Rachel crumbled the remains of her cookie over a napkin. “Next time we should sneak in a bottle of wine, make this a drinking game.”

“You know I can’t drink on the job,” Jayne protested.

“You can’t get caught drinking on the job. There’s a difference,” Rachel said cheekily, and everyone laughed.

They kept on playing, the Jenga tower growing increasingly, dangerously high. Rachel knocked over a tile labeled FOREIGN AUDITION, which apparently meant that for the rest of the game, she needed to speak in an accent. Undeterred, she launched into a story about a guy she’d recently met, her accent veering wildly between Eastern European and French.

Nina stretched her arms overhead. She felt tired, but in a lazy, contented way.

“Anyway, he just texted to ask me out,” Rachel was saying.

“Accent!” Jayne scolded.

“My apologies,” Rachel corrected, in the most atrocious Cockney voice Nina had ever heard. “So, do you guys think I should say yes?”

She held out her phone, its plastic case covered in cartoon pineapples. The other girls obediently leaned forward to study the profile picture: an artsy black-and-white shot of a guy whose lip was pierced in at least six places.

“He seems pretty different from Logan,” Nina ventured, naming Rachel’s ex-boyfriend.

“Exactly!” Rachel had dropped the accent, but this time no one admonished her. “Different is what I’m looking for right now. You should know the feeling, after what happened with you and Jeff.”

Nina stiffened, though some reluctant part of her acknowledged the truth in Rachel’s words.

She’d met the royal twins over a decade ago, when her mamá began working as the king’s chamberlain. She and Princess Samantha had been best friends ever since, as close as sisters.

Then, last year, Nina had started secretly dating Sam’s brother. It had worked so well when it was just the two of them—but once the rest of the world found out, she’d become the target of nationwide abuse.

That was the thing about royalty: it was as polarizing as a magnet. For years Nina had watched people pass judgment on Sam without even knowing her, instantly deciding that they either hated or adored her, that they wanted nothing to do with her, or that they would use her for their own ends.

Once Nina dated Jeff, the same thing had happened to her.

She’d tried to ignore the ugly online comments and paparazzi’s catcalls. She’d told herself that she could handle it all, that Jeff was worth it. Until his ex-girlfriend Daphne had confronted her, revealing that she had orchestrated the abuse: she’d planted a photographer outside Nina’s dorm room and sold their relationship to the tabloids.

When Nina tried to talk to Jeff about it, he’d taken Daphne’s side.

She’d seen him only once since the breakup, from across the room at his father’s funeral. Then the Washingtons had left for Sulgrave, and Nina had finished out her winter quarter and gone to Virginia Beach, trying valiantly to wipe Jeff from her memory. Though it was pretty hard to forget your ex-boyfriend when he was your best friend’s brother—and the most famous man in the country.

“I’m sorry, Nina,” Rachel went on. “But we both need to branch out from that frat-boy crowd. Just think of all the types of guys we haven’t even begun to explore! Musicians, upperclassmen…” She cast a pleading glance at the other girls, who hurried to chime in.

“Those cute TAs who bike here from the grad quad,” Leila offered.

“Or artistic writer guys,” Jayne exclaimed. “Like the ones you’ll meet in your journalism class!”

“I’m not taking journalism so that I can meet guys,” Nina reminded them.

“Of course not,” Rachel said easily. “You’re taking journalism so that I can meet guys.”

Nina snorted. “Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll try to branch out, whatever that means.”

“I’m just saying you should put yourself back out there, go to a party with us every now and then. Come on, Nina,” Rachel pleaded. “Your new look is too good to be wasted on the library.”

Nina brushed her fingers through the ends of her newly short hair, which now fell to just above her shoulders. Her head felt curiously light without the weight of all those tresses. She’d done it on impulse after the breakup: she had needed, desperately, to change something, and this was as drastic a change as she could make short of getting another tattoo.

Now when Nina looked in the mirror, she found a new and startling version of herself. The bones of her face had become more prominent, her brown eyes gleaming brighter than before. She looked older, stronger.

The Nina who’d spent years pining after Jefferson—who’d contorted herself into someone she didn’t recognize, hoping to win acceptance as his girlfriend—was gone. And this new, fiercer Nina knew better than to get her heart broken by anyone. Even a prince.