Fashion Week
Alexandra stood in front of the gilded mirror, the soft golden light of her bedroom highlighting the delicate embroidery on the deep emerald Alexander McQueen gown that clung perfectly to her figure. The bodice was structured, hugging her waist and emphasizing her shoulders, while the skirt flowed in elegant waves, pooling slightly at her feet. The subtle sheen of the fabric caught the light as she turned, examining the way it moved with her body.
Her mother had insisted on this dress — after making her try on what felt like every single design from every British fashion house in existence. Alexander McQueen was a symbol of British excellence, her mother had said. Wearing anything else would be practically treasonous.
"It's stunning," Taylor had texted her earlier that morning when Alexandra had sent her a picture of the dress during her fitting. "You're going to kill it."
Alexandra smiled to herself at the memory as she adjusted the neckline of her shirt after change her clothes again. Taylor. God, just the thought of her made Alexandra's heart race in a way she still hadn't quite gotten used to. The night at Taylor's apartment had left her feeling... steady, grounded, in a way nothing else ever had.
But now, reality was creeping back in. Tonight wasn't just about looking good — it was about being seen, about playing the part. And as always, the crown came with expectations.
Her phone buzzed on the vanity table. Alexandra sighed, assuming it was Lucas or maybe James checking in on her before the event. Without looking, she picked it up and unlocked it.
And froze.
There was a text.
Amanda Egerton
"Miss me?"
Attached to the message was a picture. A very explicit one. Amanda's bare skin, the curve of her hip, and a sultry smirk that Alexandra knew all too well.
Alexandra's eyes widened as heat flushed her cheeks. Her stomach twisted — not in the good way Taylor made her feel — but in that deep, sharp way that accompanied every encounter with Amanda.
"Oh, for fuck's sake..." Alexandra muttered under her breath, locking her phone and tossing it onto the table.
Not even five minutes of peace.
A sharp knock on the door pulled her from her spiraling thoughts.
"Lexie?"
Her father's voice. Alexandra took a steadying breath and crossed the room to open the door.
King Edward stood there in his tailored navy suit, his expression warm but slightly tense — a sign that this wasn't just a father-daughter visit.
"Are you ready?" he asked, looking her over.
"As I'll ever be," Alexandra replied with a small smile.
He extended his arm, which she took. "Good. We have a meeting."
"A meeting?"
"Just a small one," he said. "The anti-monarchist faction requested an audience. We need to address some... growing concerns."
Alexandra's stomach sank. Of course. There was always some kind of political fire to put out.
"Why am I involved?" Alexandra asked as they walked down the corridor, their footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors.
"Because you represent the future of the monarchy," her father replied calmly. "It's important they see you as engaged, thoughtful... approachable."
Alexandra rolled her eyes. "Right. Approachable."
They entered the small receiving room where three representatives of the anti-monarchist faction stood, their postures stiff and their expressions guarded. Alexandra recognized them — seasoned critics of the crown — but her father greeted them with the same warmth he showed foreign diplomats.
"Thank you for meeting with us," one of the men said, shaking the King's hand. "We appreciate the audience."
"My pleasure," the King said, guiding Alexandra to sit beside him. "I believe you know my daughter, Princess Alexandra."
They exchanged polite nods. Alexandra folded her hands in her lap, keeping her expression neutral.
"As you're aware," the man began, "there's been growing unrest regarding the crown's expenditures and its relevance in modern society. We believe it's time to discuss serious reforms."
Her father smiled tightly. "We're always open to hearing the people's concerns."
Alexandra felt her phone buzz in her lap. Her heart sank.
Instinctively, she glanced down — just as another text from Amanda flashed across the screen.
"I'm thinking of you. Wish you were here."
Her pulse spiked. She tilted the phone away, resisting the urge to curse out loud.
"Princess Alexandra?"
She snapped her gaze back up, realizing too late that the man was speaking directly to her.
"I'm sorry?"
The man's smile was thin. "I asked for your perspective on the matter. After all, the future of the monarchy will one day rest in your hands."
Alexandra's father glanced at her expectantly.
Shit.
Alexandra forced a smile. "Well, I think it's important to adapt with the times. The monarchy has survived for centuries because it has been able to evolve. I'm confident that we can find a balance that honors both tradition and progress."
The man raised a skeptical brow. "And if that balance includes reducing the power of the crown?"
Alexandra hesitated — but her father smoothly cut in.
"We're always prepared to have those conversations," he said with a practiced smile.
The tension in the room eased slightly, and Alexandra exhaled.
The meeting wrapped up quickly after that. Alexandra stood, brushing her hands down her pants, just as her phone buzzed again.
She waited until her father stepped away before checking it.
Another text.
"Should I come over tonight? Or are you still busy with the American girl?"
Alexandra's jaw clenched. Her thumb hovered over the screen before she finally typed a response.
"Amanda, stop."
The reply came almost instantly.
"Aww, did I hit a nerve?"
Alexandra's thumb hovered over the delete button — but then her father reappeared.
"You handled that well," he said, touching her arm lightly. "Your mother will be proud."
"Sure," Alexandra said tightly, slipping her phone back into her clutch.
Her father studied her. "Is something wrong?"
Alexandra forced a smile. "Nothing I can't handle."
"what will you be wearing tonight??"
Alexandra smiled, "Alexander McQueen"
"Excellent choice," the King said, nodding approvingly. Then he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know, I suggested wearing a McQueen suit myself tonight."
"And?" Alexandra asked, arching a brow.
"The Queen insists on one of my ceremonial military uniforms," he said, his tone dry. "Complete with medals. You know how much I love to wear full regalia."
Alexandra laughed. "You'll look fantastic."
"I'll look ridiculous."
"You'll look powerful," Alexandra corrected with a small smile.
Her father sighed again, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes. "I suppose that's the point."
Alexandra's smile softened as he kissed her cheek. "You'll survive."
Her father smiled back. "Of course. It's the crown, after all."
Alexandra watched him go, her expression thoughtful.
And as her phone buzzed once more with yet another message from Amanda, Alexandra was beginning to realize that wearing the crown wasn't the hard part.
Keeping her life from unraveling under it — that was the real challenge.
Alexandra's room was dimly lit, the heavy velvet curtains partially drawn to block out the late afternoon light. The faint scent of cedarwood and lavender from the room's diffuser mixed with the distinct, earthy scent of smoke curling through the air.
Lucas sat lazily in the corner armchair, one leg slung over the side, a worn leather pipe dangling from his fingers as he took a long drag. He exhaled slowly, the smoke unfurling above his head in lazy spirals.
"I don't know how you and James do it," Alexandra said, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Her heels were off, and her dress was slightly wrinkled from the long day of meetings. Her head tipped back against the carved headboard as she rubbed her hands over her face.
Lucas grinned through the haze of smoke. "It's the drugs," he said, raising the pipe as if it were a toast.
Alexandra snorted. "I doubt the perfect heir James does drugs."
Lucas chuckled darkly. "Oh, Lex, you'd be surprised." He took another pull from the pipe, the embers at the tip glowing bright orange for a moment. "He's not as perfect as everyone thinks."
"Right," Alexandra said with a roll of her eyes. "Next, you'll tell me he sneaks off to underground raves with you."
Lucas shrugged. "Maybe not raves. But he's got his vices. Just like the rest of us."
Alexandra shook her head, brushing her hair away from her face. She could feel the slight ache behind her temples — the product of too many polite smiles and carefully measured responses during those endless meetings.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She didn't even need to look to know it was Amanda. That had become a pattern lately — her ex sliding back into her life with the same calculated charm and emotional manipulation that had left Alexandra emotionally exhausted the first time around.
"Want some?" Lucas asked, holding the pipe out toward her.
Alexandra gave him a flat look. "I'm trying to clean up."
Lucas grinned. "Since when?"
"Since I realized that if I'm going to survive being dragged into every royal responsibility, I should probably try doing it sober."
Lucas chuckled. "I don't know, Lex. A little chemical assistance might help with that." He wiggled the pipe between his fingers.
Alexandra shook her head. "No, thanks. I have a lot on the calendar, little brother."
Lucas sat up slightly, arching a brow. "I think it's less about the calendar and more about the influence of a certain blonde American."
Alexandra's gaze snapped toward him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Lucas's smile widened knowingly. "Come on, Lex. You've been... different lately. Happier, maybe. Less guarded." He leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees. "Taylor's good for you."
Alexandra's lips pressed into a thin line, her mind flashing back to Taylor's apartment — the warmth of her touch, the softness of her voice as she'd talked about the Eras Tour. How natural it had felt to sink into Taylor's world, to share hers in return.
"Maybe," Alexandra said carefully.
Lucas's smile turned into a full smirk. "Not maybe. Definitely."
Alexandra sighed, rubbing her temples. "Even if that's true, it's not that simple."
"Why not?"
Alexandra shot him a sharp look. "Because I'm not just Alexandra. I'm The Princess Alexandra . You know how this works."
Lucas scoffed. "Oh, please. The crown's been through worse than two women falling in love."
Alexandra's eyes narrowed. "It's not that simple. Taylor's about to launch the biggest tour of her career. She's going to be under a microscope — more than usual. And me? The press already circles me like sharks. If this becomes public—"
Lucas shrugged. "So what?"
"So what?" Alexandra repeated incredulously. "You think the crown is just going to sit back and let me date the most famous woman in the world without consequence?"
Lucas's gaze darkened slightly. "They might not have a choice."
Alexandra's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Lucas leaned back, taking another lazy drag from the pipe. "The public loves Taylor. Hell, half the country is probably in love with her. If you two went public... they wouldn't be able to stop it. It wouldn't matter how much Mum protests or how much James grits his teeth."
Alexandra frowned. "You make it sound like some kind of strategy."
Lucas smiled slowly. "Maybe it is."
Alexandra exhaled sharply. "You're not as innocent as you look, you know that?"
Lucas grinned. "You didn't think I spent my time at those military barracks actually working, did you?"
Alexandra laughed despite herself. "You're a menace."
Lucas tipped an imaginary hat. "Runs in the family."
Alexandra's phone buzzed again. This time, she couldn't ignore it. She leaned over and picked it up — another message from Amanda flashing across the screen.
"Miss me yet?"
Alexandra's jaw clenched. Lucas, noticing her expression, raised a brow.
"Her again?"
Alexandra locked the phone and tossed it onto the nightstand. "Apparently she's on some kind of redemption tour."
Lucas snorted. "Let me guess — it's all about how she's changed and how you belong together."
"Something like that."
"And you're not buying it, right?"
Alexandra hesitated.
Lucas's expression darkened. "Lex. Come on."
Alexandra sighed, sinking back into the pillows. "It's complicated."
"No, it's not," Lucas said flatly. "Amanda's toxic. You know it. She disappears when it suits her, and then comes crawling back the moment you find something better."
Alexandra's gaze hardened. "It's not that simple."
Lucas sat forward, his eyes serious now. "Yes, it is. Taylor makes you happy. Amanda makes you miserable. You already know the right choice."
Alexandra's lips parted slightly — but she didn't say anything.
Lucas sighed, leaning back again. "I'm just saying... don't let Amanda fuck this up for you."
"I'm not," Alexandra said quietly.
Lucas studied her for a moment, then gave a lazy grin. "Good."
Alexandra shook her head. "You're very opinionated for someone who's barely out of military training."
Lucas smirked. "What can I say? I'm gifted."
Alexandra rolled her eyes but smiled. "You're impossible."
"And yet, you love me."
Alexandra sighed. "Unfortunately."
Lucas stood, stretching lazily before heading toward the door. "Just think about it, Lex. Don't overthink it — just... let yourself be happy."
Alexandra watched him go, her smile fading slightly.
Her phone buzzed again — this time, not from Amanda.
Taylor's name flashed on the screen.
Alexandra's heart fluttered.
She unlocked the phone and opened the message.
"Want to sneak out after the fashion show? I promise I'll make it worth your while."
Alexandra smiled, her chest lightening as she typed back a reply.
"Absolutely."
The after-party was in full swing, the dim lights casting a golden hue over the sleek, modern interior. The hum of conversation mixed with the low pulse of music. Waiters in crisp black uniforms floated through the room with trays of champagne and delicate hors d'oeuvres, and the room was filled with the scent of expensive perfume and the quiet clink of crystal glasses.
Taylor stood near the edge of the room, a glass of champagne in her hand. Her gaze followed Alexandra across the room — the princess was talking to one of the models from the show. The girl was tall, dark-haired, with sharp cheekbones and the kind of effortless elegance that only seemed to exist in the fashion world.
And then, just as Taylor took a sip of her drink, Amanda appeared.
"Taylor Swift, alone at a party?" Amanda said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she sidled up next to Taylor.
Taylor's gaze flicked toward her. Amanda was in a silky black gown that hugged her figure, a small diamond necklace resting at her collarbone. Her hair was styled in sleek waves, her lips painted a deep red. She looked exactly like someone who belonged at a royal event — polished and dangerous.
"Not for long," Taylor said coolly.
Amanda smiled. "Oh, don't worry. Alexandra will make her way back to you. Eventually."
Taylor's jaw tightened. "I'm not worried."
"Sure you're not," Amanda said, her gaze sliding toward Alexandra and the model. Alexandra laughed at something the woman said, leaning in slightly, her hand resting casually on the model's arm.
Amanda smirked. "Oh, Kiera. They had sex."
Taylor's spine stiffened. Her gaze sharpened on the model — Kiera — and then flicked toward Amanda. "Excuse me?"
Amanda's eyes glinted with satisfaction. "Oh, it was a while ago. Not exactly a long-term situation, but you know how these things go."
Taylor's fingers tightened around her glass. "And you're telling me this because...?"
Amanda's smile widened. "Just a friendly warning. Alexandra's... history is complicated."
Taylor's expression didn't change, but her pulse was thudding in her ears.
"Does it bother you?" Amanda asked, her voice low and smooth. "Knowing she's been with other women? That she's... experienced?"
Taylor's lips curled into a slight smile. "She's allowed to have a past."
"Mm." Amanda's eyes darkened slightly. "She and I have... quite a bit of history."
"I'm aware," Taylor said coolly.
"And yet, here you are," Amanda said. "Trying to claim something that's never really belonged to anyone."
Taylor's eyes narrowed. "If that's true, why are you the one following me around and trying to undermine it?"
Amanda's smile thinned. "She's a princess. Women love power, and Lexie loves women. It comes with the territory."
Taylor raised a brow. "You sound jealous."
Amanda's eyes flashed. "Hardly."
Taylor tilted her head. "You know... if Alexandra really wanted you, she'd be with you right now."
Amanda's smile turned sharp. "We'll see." She gave Taylor a parting glance and sauntered toward the bar.
Taylor took a breath, trying to push down the knot of jealousy curling in her chest. Hearing about her past, especially from Amanda, left a bitter taste in Taylor's mouth.
"Everything okay?"
Taylor turned to see Alexandra standing beside her, holding out a glass of champagne. Alexandra's blue eyes were bright under the soft lighting, her Alexander McQueen dress skimming her figure perfectly.
Taylor hesitated before taking the glass. "Yeah. Just getting acquainted with Amanda."
Alexandra's gaze darkened slightly. "I'm sorry about that."
Taylor lifted the glass to her lips, watching Alexandra over the rim. "Do you regret it?"
Alexandra frowned. "Regret what?"
"Her."
Alexandra's expression softened. She reached out, her hand brushing Taylor's wrist. "I don't regret anything that brought me here with you."
Taylor's lips parted slightly. Alexandra's hand slid down to her fingers, intertwining them. The warmth of her touch steadied Taylor's pulse.
"Ready for the getaway you promised me?" Alexandra asked, a teasing glint in her eye.
Taylor's mouth curved into a small smile. "Definitely."
Alexandra leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Taylor's ear. "Good. Let's get out of here."
Taylor's heart gave a sharp thud as Alexandra's fingers tightened around hers. The jealousy and uncertainty from earlier began to fade, replaced by the electric pull between them.
Alexandra led her toward the side exit, her hand firm around Taylor's. The press would likely speculate about them tomorrow — pictures of Alexandra leading Taylor through the party, their hands linked, would be plastered across every tabloid by morning. And Taylor realized... maybe that didn't bother her as much as it used to.
Just as they were nearing the exit, Taylor heard someone call her name.
"Taylor Swift!"
Taylor turned to see a familiar figure walking toward her, a mischievous smile on his face.
"Matty?"
Matty Healy, dressed in a fitted black suit with his usual messy curls, slid toward her with an easy confidence. His brown eyes lit up as he reached her side.
"Fancy running into you here," he said, his smile widening. He glanced at Alexandra. "and you must be Alexandra"
Alexandra's eyes narrowed slightly, the barest hint of suspicion flashing in them.
"Your Highness Princess Alexandra" she said.
"Matty Healy," Taylor said, introducing him to Alexandra.
"A pleasure," Matty said, offering Alexandra a polite nod.
Alexandra studied him for a moment before offering a small smile. "Likewise."
"Didn't know you'd be here," Taylor said.
"I'm full of surprises," Matty said. His gaze sharpened slightly. "Though I suppose you've had a few surprises of your own tonight."
Taylor's brows lifted. "Meaning?"
Matty's smile tilted. "Just saying — seems like your life's gotten... more interesting." His gaze slid toward Alexandra. "Am I wrong?"
Taylor's smile softened. "Not wrong."
Matty chuckled. "Well, don't get too interesting without me. We should catch up soon."
Taylor hesitated. "Yeah... I'd like that."
Matty gave Alexandra a brief nod, then leaned in toward Taylor. "Take care of yourself, yeah?"
Taylor smiled. "You too."
Matty walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
"Friend of yours?" Alexandra asked, her tone light but her gaze sharp.
Taylor smirked. "Something like that."
Alexandra raised a brow. "Should I be worried?"
Taylor slid her arm through Alexandra's. "No." She smiled. "Let's get out of here."
And as Alexandra led her toward the exit, Taylor couldn't help but feel like everything was starting to shift — not just with Alexandra, but with herself. And maybe... that wasn't such a bad thing.