Tour part 2
Alexandra sat stiffly in the cream-colored leather seat of the private jet, the steady hum of the engines vibrating beneath her feet. The late afternoon sun slanted through the small oval windows, casting a warm glow over the polished mahogany trim.
Her phone was in her hand, and her thumb hovered over the screen. She hadn't planned on checking it, but the notification had popped up automatically — a link to a news article from one of the more aggressive tabloids.
Taylor Swift and Matty Healy spotted holding hands in London — are they together?
The headline was in bold red font, the photo underneath crystal clear. Taylor and Matty walking down the street, Taylor's fingers intertwined with his. Matty was grinning, cigarette tucked behind his ear. Taylor had her sunglasses on, but Alexandra would've known that profile anywhere — the curve of her smile, the tilt of her head toward him.
Her stomach twisted.
No.
Her hand tightened around the phone.
"Oh, that's definitely a downgrade."
Alexandra's head shot up. Amanda was sitting across from her, long legs crossed, her dark red lipstick perfectly intact despite the length of the flight. She was holding a glass of wine, swirling it idly as she studied Alexandra with sharp amusement.
"I follow her too," Amanda continued, taking a small sip from the glass. "Keep your enemies close and all that."
Alexandra's jaw tightened. She set her phone face-down on the small table beside her.
"Don't start," Alexandra said, her voice low and dangerous.
Amanda's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Just making an observation."
Alexandra's gaze cut toward the window, where the gray clouds stretched endlessly below them. Her mind raced. Why hadn't Taylor answered her messages? Why hadn't she said something — anything — if this was happening? If this was true?
"You don't actually think this is real, do you?" Amanda's voice was light, but her eyes were sharp.
"Why wouldn't it be?" Alexandra snapped.
Amanda tilted her head. "Because it's Matty Healy. He's a rebound at best. It's not serious."
Alexandra's stomach burned. "You don't know that."
Amanda arched a perfect brow. "Sure I do. And so do you."
Alexandra's throat tightened. A wave of vulnerability washed over her — and she hated it.
"Don't worry," Amanda said, leaning back in her seat with that same feline smile. "You'll forget about her. Eventually."
Alexandra's gaze sharpened. "I'm not going to forget about her."
Amanda's eyes glittered with something dangerous. "We'll see."
There was a long, tense silence. The engines hummed beneath them, steady and relentless.
Amanda leaned forward, her tone lowering into something more intimate, more dangerous. "You and me, Lex... we've been doing this dance for years."
Alexandra's chest tightened.
"We always come back to each other," Amanda said, setting her wine glass down on the table with a soft click. "She's a phase. A cute one, I'll admit. But we both know how this ends."
Alexandra's heart hammered painfully in her chest. She forced her expression into steel. "You're wrong."
Amanda's gaze didn't waver. "You think so?"
Alexandra lifted her chin. "I know so."
Amanda's smile widened, slow and dangerous. "Alright, then. Go ahead. Fix whatever you're thinking. Fight for her. But when it falls apart... you know where to find me."
Alexandra's hands curled into fists at her sides.
Amanda stood gracefully and stretched, her silk blouse slipping slightly off her shoulder. "I'm going to freshen up. Let me know when you're ready to see reason."
Alexandra didn't respond.
Amanda walked toward the back of the jet, her heels clicking softly against the carpet. Alexandra stared after her until the door slid shut behind her.
Her chest was heaving. She picked up her phone and opened the photo again. Taylor's hand in Matty's. That familiar smile. That familiar comfort.
Her eyes stung.
Alexandra leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.
No. This isn't over.
Taylor leaned back against the smooth leather of the private booth, her heels hooked over the edge of the seat. The club was dimly lit, the hum of conversation mixing with the low pulse of music coming from the DJ booth. Matty was sitting across from her, his arm stretched lazily over the back of the seat, a cigarette tucked between his lips despite the fact that they were technically in a no-smoking section.
"You're staring," Matty said with a smirk, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.
Taylor blinked, realizing her gaze had drifted toward the floor, where a couple was tangled together in a heated embrace. Her mind had wandered — again. She'd been thinking about Alex. About those pictures.
"Sorry," Taylor said, shaking her head and reaching for her drink. She took a sip of the dark liquor, the burn settling in her chest.
Matty's eyes, dark and knowing, stayed on her. "No, you're not."
Taylor sighed and set the glass down with a soft thunk. "I'm trying."
Matty's smirk widened. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Trying to forget her?"
Taylor's stomach clenched. She hated how transparent she was with him — how easily Matty could see through the carefully constructed exterior she had spent years perfecting. But that's what made him easy to be around. He didn't push, didn't demand. He just... understood.
"I'm not trying to forget her," Taylor said finally. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass. "I'm trying not to think about her."
"Ah," Matty said knowingly. "And how's that going for you?"
Taylor gave him a flat look.
"Yeah," Matty chuckled. He took another drag of his cigarette, the end glowing bright red in the dim light. "I figured."
Taylor sighed, leaning her head back against the cushioned booth.
Matty watched her for a moment before flicking his cigarette into the ashtray. "You know... if it helps, I can be a fantastic distraction."
Taylor gave him a small smile. "Yeah?"
"Mm-hmm," Matty grinned. "No emotional attachment. No complicated feelings. Just pure chaos and destruction. My specialty."
Taylor laughed softly, even though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Matty's gaze sharpened. "It's working, isn't it?"
Taylor shrugged. "It's... easier, being around you."
Matty leaned in, his dark curls falling over his forehead. "I'm honored. Truly."
Taylor rolled her eyes. "Don't let it get to your head."
He laughed, stretching out his legs. His knee bumped against hers beneath the table. "Too late."
Taylor smiled, but her mind was already drifting again. Back to Alexandra. Back to those photos.
Alexandra with Amanda. The headline had been brutal. "Royal Romance Rekindled: Alexandra and Amanda Together Again."
And the worst part? It wasn't just the tabloids. The actual media — the respectable outlets — had picked it up too. No one was questioning it. No one was asking if it was true or not. They were just... accepting it.
Because Amanda had been in Alexandra's orbit for so long that no one could imagine someone else being there instead.
Taylor's jaw tightened.
Amanda was perfect for Alexandra in every conceivable way. Born into wealth and status. Politically connected. Beautiful in that effortless, aristocratic way. Of course the media wasn't critical. Of course they supported it. Amanda fit in Alexandra's world in a way Taylor never could.
And Amanda knew that.
Taylor had seen it in her eyes at the fashion show, that quiet confidence when she'd said, "She's a princess. Women love power, and Lexie likes women."
Taylor's hand tightened around her glass.
"Taylor."
She blinked and found Matty studying her carefully.
"You're spiraling."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Taylor sighed, setting her drink down. "I hate that she hasn't called me."
"Or maybe you hate that she has called you, but you're punishing her by not answering."
Taylor's mouth twitched. "That's not what I'm doing."
Matty lifted an eyebrow. "Sure."
Taylor rubbed her temple. "It's complicated."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because... I don't know if I can handle it." The words were out before Taylor even realized she was saying them.
Matty's gaze sharpened. "Handle what?"
"Being with her." Taylor's voice was soft. "All of it. The public pressure, the expectations, the media watching us constantly. The criticism, the responsibility." She shook her head. "And Amanda..."
Matty's eyes narrowed. "Screw Amanda."
Taylor's head shot up.
Matty shrugged. "Seriously. You're Taylor Swift. Alexandra is obsessed with you. That's the headline."
Taylor bit her lip.
Matty leaned forward. "Look, if you don't want to be with her, that's one thing. But don't push her away just because you're scared."
Taylor's eyes darkened. "I'm not scared."
Matty's mouth curved. "Aren't you?"
Taylor's phone vibrated on the table. She glanced down. Alexandra's name.
Her heart leaped — and then crashed when it immediately stopped ringing.
Matty's gaze flicked toward the phone. "You gonna call her back?"
Taylor didn't answer.
Matty studied her for a moment, then slid out of the booth. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand.
Taylor eyed him warily. "Where are we going?"
"To dance. To drink. To forget."
Taylor hesitated.
Matty's hand stayed outstretched. "Come on, Swift. Give me one night where you stop thinking about her."
Taylor's gaze slid toward her phone one last time. Then she stood and took his hand.
"Deal."
Matty grinned. "Now you're speaking my language."
But as Taylor followed him toward the dance floor, the weight of her phone in her pocket was a quiet reminder that forgetting Alexandra Habsburg would never be as easy as a single night.
The next morning, Alexandra stood beside her mother in a cobblestone street in a small town in the countryside. Her mother's expression was as hard and polished as ever, her perfectly tailored coat cinched tightly at the waist.
The town square was filled with locals, some holding small flags, others craning their necks to get a glimpse of the royals. Alexandra was smiling, but it was the diplomatic smile — the kind her mother taught her. The kind that didn't reach her eyes.
She checked her phone again. No messages.
Her stomach twisted.
Her mother's voice cut through her thoughts. "Alexandra, focus."
She tucked the phone into the pocket of her coat.
"Engage," the queen said through gritted teeth. "Remember, we are here to project warmth and approachability."
"Right."
Alexandra adjusted the lapels of her jacket and forced herself to focus. A group of kids were standing by the edge of the square, one of them wearing a bright red Manchester United jersey.
Amanda's words echoed in her head: Be yourself.
She crossed the street toward the group of boys. "Man, huh?" she said, raising an eyebrow at the jersey. "That sucks. Aren't you tired of disappointment after disappointment?"
The boy's eyes widened as his friends laughed. "Don't tell me you support Chelsea?"
"What can I say?" Alexandra grinned. "I have blue blood."
The group laughed.
Alexandra crouched down to the boy's level. "Who's your favorite player?"
"Rashford," he said proudly.
Alexandra's smile widened. "Solid choice. I was a Rooney fan back in the day."
The boy's face lit up. "Really?"
She nodded. "He had the best footwork. Although... Chelsea's defense is better now, so I guess I win."
The boy groaned. "No way!"
"Want to bet?" Alexandra challenged.
"How?"
Alexandra gestured toward a nearby pub. "Come on. First round's on me."
The boys stared at her in disbelief.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
The group hesitated, then followed her toward the pub.
Behind her, the queen's sharp gaze followed them. Alexandra could feel the disapproval radiating from her mother, but for once... she didn't care.
Inside the pub, Alexandra leaned against the worn wooden bar, her coat draped over a stool. The bartender looked stunned as she ordered a round of beers.
"You know you're a princess, right?" one of the boys teased.
Alexandra smirked. "So they tell me."
The conversation drifted toward soccer — formations, injuries, title predictions — and Alexandra found herself relaxing for the first time in days. The easy banter, the laughter, the warmth — it reminded her of nights at university, back when the crown didn't weigh so heavily.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Her heart jolted.
She pulled it out, half-expecting to see Taylor's name.
But it was Henry.
HENRY: You're all over the news. Princess Alexandra charming the locals. Scandalous!
Alexandra rolled her eyes and pocketed the phone.
As the boys debated whether Chelsea's defense would hold up in the next match, Alexandra caught her reflection in the bar mirror. Her smile was relaxed, her shoulders loose.
Amanda's voice echoed in her mind. Just be yourself.
Maybe it was enough.
But her smile faded slightly as her thoughts circled back to Taylor.
She needed to fix this.
The club was buzzing with life — flashing lights, pulsing music, and the electric hum of bodies moving together. Taylor was perched on a sleek leather couch in the VIP section, nursing a glass of champagne while Matty sat beside her, his arm slung over the back of the seat. His knee pressed lightly against hers as he leaned in close, saying something low in her ear that she barely registered over the sound of the music.
Taylor's gaze wandered across the dance floor. That was when she spotted him — Prince Lucas, dressed in a tailored black suit that was far too formal for a club but somehow worked perfectly for him. His light brown hair was slightly tousled, giving him that effortless, royal charm that made it impossible for him to blend into a crowd.
Lucas's eyes found hers immediately, and a slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Without hesitation, he crossed the floor, weaving through the bodies until he was standing in front of her.
"Lucas," Taylor said, genuinely surprised.
"Taylor," Lucas replied, his smile widening. "Fancy seeing you here." His gaze flicked toward Matty. "And with company, no less."
Matty, who had been half-draped over Taylor, sat up a little straighter and extended a hand. "Mat Healy. Pleasure."
Lucas's hand slid into Matty's, his smile polite but with an underlying coolness. "Of course. I've heard of you."
Matty's brow arched. "Good things, I hope."
Lucas's smile sharpened. "Mixed reviews."
Taylor's eyes narrowed. "Lucas..."
Lucas's gaze slid toward Taylor, his expression softening. "Relax. I'm not here to ruin your night."
Matty's arm tightened subtly around Taylor's waist.
"Then why are you here?" Taylor asked.
Lucas slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out two sleek, cream-colored envelopes embossed with the royal crest. He handed them to Taylor.
"What's this?"
"Invitations," Lucas said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "There's a party at the castle this weekend. Consider this my official attempt at diplomatic relations." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "One for you and one for... your friend." His gaze flicked toward Matty with a pointed look.
Matty's smirk widened. "I feel honored."
Lucas's smile didn't waver. "Don't."
Taylor's fingers ran over the smooth surface of the envelopes. "Lucas..."
Lucas's expression turned serious. "I know things are... complicated with my sister right now."
Taylor's chest tightened.
"And I know how stubborn Alexandra can be," Lucas continued. "But I also know how much she cares about you."
Taylor swallowed hard.
Lucas leaned in slightly. "She's a royal. She's been taught to guard herself, to put the crown before anything else. But you... you've already gotten past her defenses. Don't let that scare you off."
Taylor's gaze lowered to the envelopes. "You're really okay with this?"
Lucas chuckled. "Taylor, I'm not the one who has to live in that palace. But I am the one who sees how happy you make her." His eyes softened. "And how miserable she's been without you."
Taylor's chest tightened.
"And you?" Lucas gestured toward Matty with a tilt of his head.
Matty's arm didn't move from around Taylor's waist. "Oh, I'm just here for moral support," he said smoothly.
Lucas's mouth curved. "Sure."
Taylor hesitated. "Lucas... I don't know if—"
"Just come," Lucas interrupted, his voice soft. "Bring your friend. No pressure. Just... be there."
Taylor looked down at the invitations.
"It's a big step," Lucas added. "And Alexandra can't take it unless you meet her halfway."
Taylor's gaze lifted to Lucas's. "And you're okay with this? Really?"
Lucas smiled faintly. "You're not the first person to break my sister's heart. But you might be the first one who can put it back together."
Taylor's breath hitched.
Lucas's eyes softened. "Give her a chance."
Taylor nodded slowly. "Okay."
Lucas's smile brightened. "Good." He straightened, adjusting the cuff of his jacket. "See you at the castle, Taylor."
Lucas's gaze flicked toward Matty one last time before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Taylor sat back, staring at the envelopes in her hand.
Matty's finger traced lazy circles against her hip. "So..." he drawled. "That was interesting."
Taylor sighed, setting the invitations on the table in front of her.
"Are you going?" Matty asked.
Taylor hesitated.
"Because I'm free this weekend." Matty grinned.
Taylor bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the cream-colored paper. Alexandra's crest glinted under the dim light.
"I think..." Taylor said slowly, "I have to."
Matty's smile didn't waver, but Taylor could feel the subtle shift in his energy.
"Well then," Matty said, leaning back. "Looks like I'm going to a castle."
Taylor smiled faintly. "Yeah."
But even as Matty's hand brushed against her thigh, her mind was already miles away — with Alexandra.