Keeping My Prince Charming

“Let’s go, Lola.” Xavier sighed deeply and we exited the room in silence. He stopped briefly in the corridor, pulled his jacket off and handed it to me. “Wear this,” he said stiffly, and he watched as I pulled it on and buttoned it up quickly. We continued walking in silence until we made our way outside and a valet pulled up to the front with a car. “Get in,” he said, his tone still low and his eyes dark. I knew that he was upset with me, and was probably questioning what I’d been doing in the room. I felt like it was a double standard. Why was he allowed to be mad at me when he had been with Violeta? Why was he the one who was acting like he was wronged when Violeta had just dropped a bomb on me?

The car pulled away and I sat back, shivering in the seat, feeling more alone than I’d ever felt in my life. And then something snapped in me. This wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the bad person here.

“So you’re just going to ignore me?” I turned towards Xavier, fuming in my anger. “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

“I don’t think I’m ignoring you.” His lips curled up as he stared at me. “I’m taking you home, aren’t I?”

“In silence,” I huffed. “And when you do talk to me it’s with an attitude.”

“Att-i-tude?” he said slowly and deliberately. “I have an attitude?”

“Yes, you do. Stop acting like I’m some whore or plaything.” I turned away from him. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“What do you want from me, Lola?” He asked so softly that I barely heard him.

“I want you to be a prince.” I shrugged, suddenly embarrassed to tell him everything I was thinking. I wanted him to tell me that he was sorry for this whole mess and that he wanted to start again. I wanted him to tell me that this was all a dream or some weird test or anything other than what it was.

“I am a prince,” he said simply. He gazed at me then, his eyes traveling down my body, noticing my uncomfortable slouch and tense shoulders. “I’m not a Prince Charming, though, Lola. They don’t exist. At least I don’t know any princes that would fit into fairytales.” His fingers caressed the top of my head. “Real life isn’t a Disney cartoon.”

“I never said it was.” I bit my lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“I’m not going to ride up on my white horse and whisk you away to a castle.” He rolled his eyes. “This isn’t some magical ride, and the world of royalty isn’t something to be envied and fantasized about. I mean, there is a ride I can take you on, but it will be very bumpy, if you know what I mean.” He paused and licked his lips as he stared at me. “Though, I’ve heard bumpy rides are the most enjoyable.”

“I never fantasized about being royalty.” I moved away from him, annoyed at his assumption. It was true that I’d never been someone that had any aspirations to become a part of the aristocracy, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that a small part of me had dreamed of being swept away and wooed by a prince. Who didn’t want a man to love and cherish them? Who didn’t want to be taken on a magical ride of love?

“This world—my world—is dark and deep and sinister. There are no happy endings. No fairytales. No knights in shining armor. There are just men that have titles and men that have money. And there are some men, like me, that have both, money and titles. We’re all just human. We’re not gods. We’re just like regular people, but we play more dangerous games. I am not the father of Violeta’s baby. This is part of her game to intimidate you to leave me. This is just the start of the games that we will find ourselves in.”

“What games?”

“You really want to know, Lola? You really want to be exposed to that darkness?”

“You’ve already exposed me to it,” I said softly, hugging his jacket around me tighter. “You already exposed me to Casper and I can’t imagine it gets much darker than him.”

“Then you can’t imagine much.” His eyes searched mine, and for a few seconds we just stared at each other in the darkness. “How do you think most of the royal families got into power, Lola? Do you think God came down and said, ‘I think you and you and you should rule the others’?”

“No.”

“Have you seen Game of Thrones?”

“A few episodes.” I nodded.

“That show is like my real life, Lola. Families fight and lie and backstab to get into power. That is how all the royal families in the world have gotten into power. Our history is deep and dark.” He sat back. “And that is why I love art. I need color in my life. I need life. I need beauty. I need something that hasn’t been spoiled by greed.”

“That’s why you love art so much?”

“Yes, that’s why I love art. And that’s why I’m an art professor.” He sighed. “I want to know that, for at least part of my life, I lived for me.”

“And the rest of your life...?” My voice trailed off as I stared at him, my brain ticking a hundred miles a minute. “The rest of your life you become a part of the darkness?”

“This is who I am, Lola.” He turned to me and grabbed my hand. “I was so worried when I walked into that room. So worried that something had happened to you. I made a mistake by bringing you here. It was unfair to subject you to this life.”

“What are you saying?” I frowned at the look in his eyes.