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Taylor sat on the windowsill of her London apartment, her legs tucked beneath her as she stared out at the city lights. The invitations from Lucas sat unopened on the coffee table behind her, the royal crest gleaming under the soft glow of the lamp. It had been two days since Lucas handed them to her, but she still hadn't decided what to do.
Her fingers traced the rim of the wine glass in her hand, the deep red liquid catching the light. The city below pulsed with life — cars streaming down the streets, voices echoing from the sidewalks — but Taylor felt detached from it all. Her mind was too tangled with thoughts of Alexandra.
She hadn't heard from Alex since she landed back in London. No calls. No texts. Just silence. And maybe that was for the best.
Because if she was honest with herself, the idea of stepping into Alex's world still terrified her. It wasn't just the press — although that was part of it. It was how easy it had been for the media to spin the story of Alex and Amanda back together. How seamless it looked. As if they belonged together, two perfect, polished pieces of a royal puzzle.
Taylor had seen the headlines:
"Reunited at Last? Princess Alexandra and Lady Amanda Share Intimate Moments on Tour"
"Princess Alexandra and Lady Amanda — Back Where They Belong?"
"Power Couple of the Crown?"
No one had criticized Alexandra for being with Amanda. No one had questioned it.
But with her? Taylor wasn't so sure it would be the same.
She could already see the headlines:
"American Pop Star Seduces British Princess"
"Taylor Swift and Princess Alexandra — Scandal at the Palace?"
"Royal Family in Crisis Over Same-Sex Relationship?"
The scrutiny would be brutal. Every moment they shared would be dissected. Every gesture, every look, every word. It wouldn't just be Alex under the microscope — it would be Taylor too. Her career, her music, her image. And Alexandra's place in the monarchy? It could be destroyed.
Taylor's gaze drifted to her phone resting on the side table. She had typed out so many messages to Alex — apologies for not answering, explanations for why she'd gone out with Matty, reassurances that Amanda didn't matter — but she never hit send.
Because if Alex had been able to face Amanda and the press and all the palace politics, then Taylor should've been able to face a couple of headlines.
But could she? Could she stand in front of the world and claim Alexandra as hers?
A knock at the door startled her.
"Come in," she called.
Jack Antonoff had come from New York to help her with her new album, and she also needed a familiar face. Jack stepped into the room, her arms crossed, brow furrowed in that way that Taylor knew meant business.
"Are you seriously still thinking about it?" Jack asked, walking over and plucking one of the invitations off the table. He turned it over in his hands. "It's a royal event, Taylor. You don't just ignore this."
"I know." Taylor sighed, setting down her wine glass. "I just... I don't know if it's the right decision."
Jack sat down beside her. "The right decision for who? For you or for Alex?"
Taylor's jaw tightened. "Both."
Jack watched her for a long moment before leaning back. "Look, I'm not going to tell you what to do. But if you're waiting for permission from the world to love Alexandra, you're never going to get it."
Taylor rubbed her hands over her face. "But Amanda—"
"Who cares about Amanda?" Jack cut in. "Alex was with her for years, and it never stuck. It's you, Taylor. It's you she's calling in the middle of the night. It's you she's looking for in a crowded room. Amanda might have been the easy choice, but you're the one Alex wants."
Taylor's chest tightened.
"And if you're worried about what the media will say?" Jack shrugged. "They'll talk. That's what they do. But you survived a lot. You survived the Kanye thing. You survived all of it."
Taylor laughed softly. "This is different."
"Is it?" Jack's gaze sharpened. "Because from where I'm sitting, this is exactly the same. It's a story — and you get to decide how it ends."
Taylor's gaze drifted to the invitation in Jack's hand. The royal crest gleamed beneath his fingertips.
"I don't know if I'm strong enough for this," Taylor whispered.
Jack smiled faintly. "Then you've underestimated yourself."
Taylor swallowed hard.
"You're not scared of the press," Jack added. "You're scared because Alexandra matters. If this was casual, you wouldn't even hesitate."
Taylor's heart pounded.
"Just go," Jack said softly. "You don't have to promise forever. Just show up. See what happens."
Taylor's hand closed around the invitation.
Jack stood, straightening his jacket. "And for the record... I think you'd look fantastic in a tiara."
Taylor laughed despite herself.
Jack smiled. "Sleep on it."
After Jack left, Taylor sat there for a long time, the invitation resting in her hands.
Her phone buzzed on the table. A text from Matty.
"So... castle this weekend? We'll make them talk 😉"
Taylor's thumb hovered over the screen.
But her thoughts were already with Alexandra. The way Alex's eyes softened when they were alone. The way her hand always found Taylor's in a crowded room. The way Taylor's heart had cracked when she saw those pictures of Alex with Amanda — not because she thought Alex had betrayed her, but because she knew how easy it would be for Alexandra to choose the easy path. To let Amanda back in. To give up on Taylor.
And yet... Alex hadn't.
Taylor took a breath and set her phone down.
She stared at the invitation for a long moment before standing and crossing the room. She opened the top drawer of her dresser, placed the envelope inside, and closed it.
It wasn't a no.
But it wasn't a yes either.
Alexandra stood by the window of her bedroom in Buckingham Palace, the city lights of London flickering in the distance beneath a misty night sky. Her phone rested face-up on the windowsill, dark and silent. She had checked it so many times that her thumb hovered over the screen almost instinctively now. But there was nothing — no missed calls, no messages, nothing from Taylor.
It had been four days. Four days since she'd landed back in London. Four days since those pictures of Taylor and Matty Healy holding hands had exploded across the internet. Four days of silence.
She had tried everything — calling, texting, even a voice message — but Taylor hadn't answered. Alexandra knew she should have stopped after the first day, but she couldn't. Because if Taylor wasn't answering... it meant something was wrong. Or worse, it meant Taylor had already made her choice.
Her chest ached just thinking about it. The image of Taylor's hand in Matty's flashed in her mind, and she clenched her jaw, forcing the bitterness down.
She had always known it wouldn't be easy. She had always known there would be resistance, pressure, scandal. But she had thought... she had hoped that Taylor would be willing to face it with her.
Now, she wasn't so sure.
The soft creak of the door opening behind her made Alexandra glance over her shoulder. Lucas stepped in first, dressed in his usual casual style — dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and an old leather jacket that somehow still smelled faintly of smoke.
Behind him, Lord Henry followed, dressed in a sleek navy suit, his dark hair combed back with practiced elegance. He carried a glass of whiskey in one hand and wore a knowing smile.
"Ah, Lex," Henry said, strolling toward the sitting area. "You look positively tragic."
"Thanks," Alexandra said flatly, turning her gaze back to the window.
Lucas sat down on the couch, stretching his long legs over the armrest and pulling a silver pipe from his jacket pocket.
"You've been moping for days," Lucas said as he lit the pipe. "It's starting to depress me."
"I'm not moping."
"Sure you're not." Lucas exhaled a thin stream of smoke toward the ceiling. "Just wallowing in dignified silence, then."
Henry chuckled, sipping his drink. "We have a solution for you."
Alexandra narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid to ask."
Henry set his whiskey down on the glass table. "Monaco."
Alexandra raised an eyebrow.
"I've secured the best villa," Henry said smoothly. "Private, gated, with a pool overlooking the cliffs. Everyone who's anyone will be there — models, artists, a few royals from less... uptight houses. It'll be a weekend of decadence and debauchery."
"I'm not in the mood for debauchery," Alexandra said, her tone sharp.
Henry raised his brows. "Oh, don't be like that. It's the perfect distraction. Lucas is coming."
"Of course he is," Alexandra muttered.
"And," Henry added, smirking, "I've arranged for certain... guests to attend. Boys and girls, of course. We wouldn't want to limit the options."
Alexandra shot him a pointed look. "You're not seriously trying to set me up."
"Why not?" Henry grinned. "You're single now, aren't you?"
Alexandra's chest tightened.
"Taylor hasn't called," Henry said, his tone more serious now. "It's been days. That's not a good sign, Lex."
"She's probably just—"
Henry cut her off. "With Matty?"
Alexandra's jaw tightened.
Henry sighed. "Look, I'm not saying you should give up on her. But sitting here, staring out the window like the heroine of a tragic period piece isn't going to bring her back."
"You think a weekend in Monaco will?"
"I think," Henry said, "that it'll remind you of who you are. You're Alexandra Habsbourg, not some lovesick girl waiting by the phone."
Alexandra hesitated.
"You don't have to make a decision now," Henry said, finishing his whiskey. "Think about it. After the ball tonight, we'll leave first thing in the morning. The jet's ready."
Alexandra frowned. "I haven't agreed yet."
"You will," Henry said confidently.
Lucas sat up, shaking the ashes from the pipe into a crystal tray. "You're going to the ball tonight, right?"
Alexandra sighed. "I have to. Mother's expecting me."
Lucas grinned. "Well, there you go. You survive the ball, and then you come with us. Monaco's not a bad place to lick your wounds."
"I'm not wounded," Alexandra said sharply.
Lucas tilted his head. "No?"
Alexandra didn't answer.
Henry stood, straightening his jacket. "Wear something sexy tonight," he said. "It'll make for better headlines tomorrow."
"I'm not interested in headlines."
Henry smiled faintly. "No, but Taylor might be."
Alexandra's eyes narrowed.
"You think she'll see them?"
"Oh, I'm counting on it," Henry said. "Let her stew for a while."
Alexandra shook her head, turning back toward the window. Henry's heels clicked against the marble floor as he walked toward the door. Lucas followed, but before he left, he paused.
"You know he's right," Lucas said.
"About what?"
Lucas leaned against the doorway. "You're not going to get over Taylor by sitting here waiting for her to come back."
Alexandra's throat tightened. "What if I don't want to get over her?"
Lucas sighed. "Then stop acting like you do."
Alexandra watched as he left, the door clicking shut behind him.
She turned back toward the window, her eyes drifting toward the dark cityscape beyond the palace gates.
The thought of Monaco made her stomach twist.
But the thought of Taylor — with Matty — twisted it even more.
Alexandra picked up her phone. Still nothing. No calls. No texts.
Her reflection in the glass showed the faintest flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
After a long moment, she set the phone down and walked toward the closet.
Maybe Henry was right.
If Taylor wasn't going to call... maybe it was time to make her come running.
The ballroom shimmered under the golden glow of the chandeliers, the sound of clinking glasses and soft chatter weaving through the air. Alexandra stood near the edge of the room, her back against the cool marble wall, a glass of champagne in her hand. She wore an elegant Alexander McQueen gown — silver silk with delicate beadwork that caught the light with every movement. Her hair was swept back into a sophisticated chignon, a few loose tendrils framing her face.
Henry stood beside her, looking effortlessly sharp in a tailored tuxedo. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his gaze lazily scanning the room. Alexandra's eyes, however, were fixed on the entrance.
That's when she saw her.
Taylor.
She stood at the top of the grand staircase, bathed in the soft glow of the chandelier. Her dress was breathtaking — a blush pink satin gown that hugged her figure perfectly, the off-the-shoulder neckline revealing her collarbones and the soft line of her shoulders. Her golden hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, and her lips were painted a soft rose.
Alexandra's heart clenched painfully. She almost couldn't breathe.
"Do you know who invited her?" Alexandra asked Henry, her voice low.
Henry smiled faintly, eyes glinting with mischief. "I didn't."
"Then who—"
"I did," Lucas's voice cut in from behind them.
Alexandra turned sharply. Lucas was leaning against the marble column, a glass of whiskey in hand, his tie slightly loosened. His expression was relaxed — far too relaxed.
"You invited her?" Alexandra's eyes narrowed.
Lucas shrugged. "I was tired of seeing you depressed."
"I'm not depressed."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Really? So the endless sulking, the moody silences, and the sudden interest in gardening were just... what? A phase?"
Henry chuckled. "He's got a point."
Alexandra's eyes flashed dangerously. "I don't sulk."
"Sure," Lucas said dryly. He took a sip of his drink. "You're welcome, by the way."
Alexandra's gaze slid back toward Taylor. She was descending the staircase slowly, her eyes scanning the crowd. And then her gaze landed on Alexandra.
Alexandra's heart fluttered painfully.
Taylor's eyes softened.
Alexandra took a step forward — but before she could move, Amanda materialized at her side, wearing a sleek black gown that clung to her figure. Her dark hair was styled in waves, and her red lipstick was flawless.
"Oh, this is about to get interesting," Amanda said, following Alexandra's gaze toward Taylor.
Amanda's lips curled. "Well, well. The American pop star finally shows up."
Alexandra sighed. "Not now, Amanda."
But Amanda was already moving toward Taylor — and Alexandra had no choice but to follow.
Taylor was now standing near the base of the staircase, and Alexandra's pulse quickened when she realized Taylor wasn't alone.
Matty Healy stood next to her, dressed in a slim black suit with his shirt slightly unbuttoned. His dark curls were messy in that deliberate way that suggested he'd spent time making it look effortless. He had a cigarette tucked behind his ear and a casual smirk on his lips.
"Oh, good," Amanda said, her tone laced with sarcasm. "The bad boy phase. How refreshing."
Alexandra shot Amanda a sharp look, but Amanda ignored her.
Taylor's eyes flicked between Amanda and Alexandra, a faint tension in her expression.
"Your date doesn't look bad," Amanda said, her tone light but cutting. "What's he do?"
Taylor's gaze sharpened. "He's a musician. He has a rock band."
Amanda's smile widened. "Very good. Rock stars are good in bed."
Alexandra's jaw tightened. "Amanda."
Amanda raised her hands in mock innocence. "Just making conversation."
Matty chuckled, his arm sliding around Taylor's waist. "I like her. She's got edge."
Alexandra's eyes darkened.
Taylor's gaze flicked toward Alexandra — sharp and assessing. "I see you're keeping interesting company too."
Amanda's smile turned wolfish. "Oh, we go way back."
"Yes," Alexandra said, her tone clipped. "And that's exactly where we should keep it."
Amanda's eyes glinted dangerously. "Careful, Lex. You wouldn't want to make a scene, would you?"
Taylor's lips curled faintly. "Seems like the scene already started."
Alexandra's throat tightened. She wanted to pull Taylor aside, to tell her this wasn't what it looked like — but how could she explain away the headlines, the pictures, Amanda's smugness?
Amanda leaned closer toward Taylor, her eyes dancing with mischief. "You know, Lexie has a type."
Alexandra's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Amanda."
Amanda ignored her, her gaze flicking toward Matty. "Brooding musician. Slightly damaged. Tattoos." Her lips curled. "Familiar territory, isn't it, Lex?"
Alexandra stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Enough."
Taylor's eyes flashed. "Actually, Amanda," Taylor said smoothly, "I think you're mistaken."
Amanda's eyes narrowed. "Am I?"
Taylor's gaze slid toward Alexandra. Her eyes softened. "Lexie doesn't have a type."
Alexandra's chest tightened painfully.
Taylor smiled faintly. "She just likes me."
Amanda's smile slipped.
Alexandra's lips parted, her heart hammering in her chest.
Taylor's gaze lingered on Alexandra for a beat longer before she slipped her arm through Matty's. "We'll see you around."
Taylor walked away, Matty following, a lazy smirk on his lips.
Alexandra watched them disappear into the crowd, her chest rising and falling unsteadily.
Amanda leaned toward her, her smile sharp. "That was fun."
Alexandra's eyes were cold. "If you keep playing these games, Amanda, I'll make sure you regret it."
Amanda's smile widened. "Careful, Lex. That almost sounded like a threat."
Alexandra's jaw tightened. "You have no idea."
Henry appeared at her side, his brows raised. "That went well."
Alexandra's glare was ice.
Henry's smile widened. "So... are we drinking to forget or to strategize?"
Alexandra's gaze flicked toward the door Taylor had disappeared through.
"Both," she said.
The ballroom was a blur of gold and shadow, the sound of classical music weaving through the space as couples spun across the marble floor. Alexandra stood near the edge of the dance floor, a glass of champagne in her hand, watching Taylor from a distance.
Taylor was laughing at something Matty had said, her hand resting lightly on his arm. Alexandra's jaw tightened. It was stupid — she had no right to feel jealous.
"Are you going to stand there brooding all night?" Amanda's voice slid in smoothly from behind her.
Alexandra glanced sideways. Amanda was holding a glass of red wine, her sleek black dress clinging to her figure. Her red lipstick was still perfect, her eyes glinting with mischief.
"I'm not brooding," Alexandra said flatly.
Amanda's lips curled. "Sure. That's why you've been shooting daggers at Taylor's poor date all night."
Alexandra's gaze flicked toward Taylor again — Matty's hand resting casually on her waist as he leaned in to whisper something in her ear.
"I'm fine," Alexandra said stiffly.
"Of course you are," Amanda said. Then, to Alexandra's horror, Amanda handed Alexandra her wine glass and started walking toward Taylor and Matty.
"What are you doing?" Alexandra hissed, setting down the glass and following her.
Amanda didn't stop until she reached Taylor's side. Matty smiled lazily at her.
"Mat, do you want to dance?" Amanda asked, her voice silky and sweet.
Matty's brows lifted. He glanced toward Taylor, who gave a small shrug. "Sure," Matty said.
Amanda smiled. "Excellent."
"What are you doing?" Alexandra demanded as Amanda took Matty's hand and began leading him toward the dance floor.
Amanda's smile sharpened. "Obviously, you want to dance with Taylor," she said over her shoulder. "I'm giving you the chance. The sooner you realize she's nothing special, the sooner you'll come back to me."
With that, Amanda and Matty disappeared into the crowd.
Alexandra exhaled sharply, turning toward Taylor. Taylor's blue eyes were already on her.
"Well," Alexandra said, forcing her tone to be light, "since we've been abandoned..." She held out her hand. "Do you want to dance with me?"
Taylor hesitated for a moment, but then her hand slid into Alexandra's. Her palm was warm. Alexandra's heart skipped painfully.
Without another word, Alexandra led Taylor onto the dance floor. The music slowed, a delicate waltz beginning to play. Alexandra's hand settled on Taylor's waist, Taylor's arm slid around Alexandra's shoulder, and for a moment — just a moment — it felt easy.
But then Taylor's eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't like that guy," Alexandra said, her tone casual.
Taylor arched a brow. "Matty?"
Alexandra shrugged. "Although I must admit I like some of his music."
Taylor's mouth curled at the edges. "Are you really talking about that right now?"
"I'm just trying to be nice."
Taylor's gaze sharpened. "I wish you'd stop being nice."
Alexandra's hand tightened at Taylor's waist. "Matty and I are just friends," Taylor said.
Alexandra's eyes flicked toward where Amanda and Matty were laughing together. "Amanda and I are...friendly."
Taylor's mouth flattened. "I could see in the pictures how friendly you were," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.
Alexandra's eyes darkened. "Same as your pictures with him," Alexandra said tightly.
Taylor's jaw tightened. "We're nothing."
"Amanda and I aren't either."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Great."
"Great."
Taylor pulled her hand from Alexandra's grasp. "Enjoy your night," she said stiffly, then turned and walked away, her dress trailing behind her.
Alexandra exhaled harshly, her heart pounding. She was so frustrated she wanted to scream — or possibly throw her champagne at the nearest wall.
"You two look really cute together," Amanda's voice floated toward her.
Alexandra turned. Amanda was standing near the edge of the dance floor, watching her with a glass of champagne in hand and a self-satisfied smile on her face.
Alexandra's eyes narrowed. "What exactly is your goal here?"
Amanda's smile didn't waver. "I've been very patient and very nice with you," Amanda said smoothly. "Now dance with me before I get desperate."
Alexandra didn't move. Amanda arched a brow. "How was your dance?"
Alexandra's throat tightened. "Maybe you don't think she's special," Alexandra said quietly, "but I do."
Amanda's smile slipped, just a little.
"Okay," Amanda said, her tone light. "Let's imagine you two end up together. Your mom hates her. The press loves to tear her down every chance they get. They'll make your life a living hell. And then what will you have left?"
"Happiness," Alexandra said without hesitation.
Amanda's smile sharpened. "Don't be naive."
"I'm not."
Amanda's gaze darkened. "The monarchy won't accept her," Amanda said. "Th monarchy accept me because I'm a Lady, the press accept me because I'm the daughter of one of their best investors. Taylor's not one of us."
"I understand," Alexandra said. "But I'll take the risk."
Amanda's smile faded completely. "And if it destroys you?"
"It won't."
Amanda's eyes narrowed. "You're awfully confident."
Alexandra's eyes softened. "Because I know her."
Amanda's lips parted slightly. For a moment, she almost looked hurt.
"Suit yourself," Amanda said, her tone cool once more. "I will wait for you to come crying to me when it all falls apart."
Amanda brushed past her, disappearing into the crowd.
Alexandra stood there, her heart pounding. Her gaze flicked toward Taylor — across the room now, talking with Lucas. Taylor's eyes met Alexandra's for a brief second, before she looked away.
Alexandra's chest tightened painfully.
She wasn't giving up. Not this time.
Taylor leaned back against the wall, the cool marble pressing into her shoulder blades as she watched the couples twirling on the dance floor. The strings of the orchestra floated through the air, the golden chandeliers casting soft light over the whole scene.
"I hate fairy tales," Taylor said suddenly, her voice low.
Matty's gaze slid toward her, his brows raising slightly. "Why?"
Taylor's eyes stayed on the dancers — on Alexandra, who was standing across the room talking to Henry, looking composed and elegant and so impossibly royal.
"I understand," Taylor said. "You're at a ball at the palace. It's not a big deal, but you put on a dress and come here, and suddenly there are all these expectations. And before you know it, you're believing all that crap you read as a kid. And you think... why can't she fight for me? Is it too much to ask? Is it too much to ask for her princess to—"
She cut herself off, biting her lip.
Matty watched her closely. "There it is," he said softly.
Taylor frowned. "What?"
"You should have your fairy tale, Taylor," Matty said. His expression was gentler than usual, his mouth tugging into a small smile. "I really hope you get it."
Taylor scoffed. "And what if it's not possible?"
Matty's smile widened slightly. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Because it's not easy," Taylor said. "She's a princess. Her life — it's complicated. Her family, the press, the monarchy..."
"Maybe," Matty said. "But none of that stopped you from falling for her, did it?"
Taylor opened her mouth to argue — but then she saw Alexandra approaching.
Her pulse quickened. Alexandra was walking toward her, looking devastatingly beautiful in that dress. The deep emerald silk clung to her figure, the neckline daring but still perfectly balanced between royal and rebellious. Her hair was swept back in soft waves, and her blue eyes were locked on Taylor.
"I think this is my cue," Matty said with a grin.
Taylor turned toward him. "Matty—"
"You're welcome," he said, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before walking away.
And then it was just her and Alexandra.
Alexandra's eyes swept over her, and her lips curled slightly. "I feel like I should have said this before," Alexandra said. "But you look absolutely radiant tonight."
Taylor's lips parted, but she couldn't seem to find her voice.
"Thanks," she finally said, her heart thudding painfully.
Alexandra's gaze softened. "We're going to Monaco this weekend," Alexandra said. Her voice was low and steady, but Taylor could see the tension in her shoulders. "I want you to come with me."
Taylor's eyes widened. "What?"
"Come with me," Alexandra said. "And Mat isn't invited."
Taylor's lips curved slightly. "He might be offended."
"He'll survive," Alexandra said, stepping closer. "He's probably a nice guy, but he came with the wrong girl."
Taylor's breath hitched. Alexandra's hand brushed against her arm, a light, tentative touch that sent heat rushing through her skin.
Alexandra leaned in, her lips dangerously close to Taylor's ear. "I know you think you don't belong in my world," she whispered. "But I don't like my world without you in it."
Taylor swallowed hard. Her heart was racing.
Alexandra pulled back just enough to look into Taylor's eyes. "I'll wait for you," she said.
And with that, Alexandra walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Taylor stood there, her heart hammering in her chest, her fingers trembling where Alexandra had touched her.
She didn't know what was more terrifying — the idea that Alexandra might be serious this time, or the idea that she might not be.
Alexandra sat back in the back seat of the sleek black car, her head resting against the cool leather. The city outside was dark and quiet, the streetlights casting a soft orange glow on the pavement. The driver's steady breathing was the only sound in the car aside from Alexandra's own pulse, which was thudding painfully loud in her ears.
Her phone was cradled in her hand. No new messages.
She had been sitting there for over an hour.
She's not coming.
Alexandra squeezed her eyes shut. It was stupid, really. To think that Taylor would just... drop everything and follow her to Monaco. That Taylor would want to step into the chaos that was her life — the press, the scrutiny, the expectations.
She should have known better.
She opened her eyes and glanced toward the building again. Nothing.
Her chest ached as she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. You tried, she told herself. You can't say you didn't try.
"Shall I pull away, Your Highness?" the driver asked.
Alexandra's throat tightened. She took a breath. Opened her mouth to say yes.
But then —
A door opened.
Alexandra's head snapped toward the building.
Taylor stepped out onto the sidewalk, illuminated by the streetlights. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, strands of it falling loose around her face. She was wearing dark jeans, an oversized sweater, and white sneakers. She was carrying a bag over her shoulder.
Alexandra's heart stopped.
Taylor hesitated for a second, standing beneath the glow of the lights.
And then she started walking toward the car.
Alexandra sat up, pulse racing as Taylor approached the car and opened the door. She slid in next to Alexandra, dropping her bag on the floor.
"Did you really think I wasn't going to come?" Taylor asked, closing the door behind her.
Alexandra's mouth opened — but no sound came out.
Taylor smiled softly. "Do you think I would let you go to Monaco with Henry and Lucas without me?"
Alexandra swallowed. Her hand was still resting on her thigh. She felt Taylor's hand brush against it, and then Taylor's fingers slipped between hers, lacing them together.
Alexandra's breath hitched.
"I didn't think you'd come," Alexandra admitted. Her voice was quiet.
Taylor's thumb brushed over her knuckles. "I almost didn't."
Alexandra turned toward her. "Why?"
Taylor's eyes softened. "Because I was scared."
Alexandra's brow furrowed.
"You're... you," Taylor said. "And I didn't know if I could handle being in your world. But when I imagined you leaving without me —"
Taylor's voice broke slightly.
Alexandra's chest tightened painfully.
"— I knew I'd regret it if I didn't try," Taylor finished.
Alexandra's hand tightened around Taylor's.
"I don't want you to regret anything," Alexandra said.
Taylor smiled faintly. "Then don't give me a reason to."
Alexandra leaned in, brushing a lock of hair behind Taylor's ear. Her fingertips lingered against Taylor's skin, her heart hammering beneath her ribcage.
"Come here," Alexandra whispered.
Taylor's lips parted slightly — and then Alexandra's mouth was on hers.
It wasn't a rushed kiss — it was soft, deliberate. Alexandra's hand moved to Taylor's jaw, her thumb stroking the line of it as their lips moved together. Taylor's hand curled around Alexandra's neck, pulling her closer.
When they broke apart, Taylor's forehead rested against Alexandra's. Their breaths mingled in the small space between them.
"So... Monaco?" Taylor whispered.
Alexandra smiled. "Monaco."
Taylor's lips curved. "Are we sharing a room?"
Alexandra raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to?"
Taylor's hand slid down to Alexandra's thigh. "Oh, absolutely."
Alexandra's breath caught.
Taylor smirked. "Shall we?"
Alexandra nodded toward the driver. "Let's go."
The car pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the quiet London streets. Taylor's hand remained in Alexandra's the whole way to the airport.