.like i'm dreaming.

“Eh, probably my upcoming novel, to be honest. I’m not really about keeping things from them. Opinions, happenings, etc. They’ve known about all my exes, whether they liked them or not. They hear about it when I get pissed about someone or something. But they don’t know about the book yet, and I’m publishing under a pseudonym. So that’s fun.”

“Well I’m a wicked archer. Don’t care how long it’s been since I last did it, I can tell ya right now that I’m still mad good at it. I’m also a good writer, though I need a lot of help editing, but still! The writing part is easy for me and I’m damn good at it. I’m also proper loyal to my family, besides mum who can suck it, and my friends. Seriously, my friends can tell you, I’m kind of amazing. Not like, trying to be egotistical or anything, I just am a great friend. And finally, my siblings all make me proud. Even my little brother, knobdobber that he is. One of these days, he’ll come ‘round and get it together.”

“Oh shite. Hermmmm....” She spent a moment counting silently, fingers rising and falling as she edited in her head. “Okay okay, um, here we go. ‘Left hanging by tiny–’, wait no that’s six words. Fuck, lemme try again. ‘Little man inside and out’? No, that’s too broad. Fuck me, this is hard.” A moment’s pause. “How about, ‘opposite of Big Dick Energy’? Yeah, that’ll have to do. Basically, I had the BDE in the relationship and he couldn’t handle that. That happens a lot.”

“Oh yeah, that’s the dream, isn’t it? Wait... you’re asking romantically, right? I’m going to assume you are, ‘cause if you’re asking me to settle down, like, behavior-wise?” She let out a raucous laugh.“Dream on, kiddo, that’s no’ happening for a good long while. No matter how much my mum wants it. Especially because my mum wants it.

“Romance, though... yeah, that’d be nice. I’d like it. I mean, I’ve not had a lot of real, close relationships. Just a few good ones. And they were fine, but inevitably, something just was off and we had to split. Sometimes it was them, sometimes it was me. Who am I kidding, it was usually me, let’s be real. But someday, it’d be nice to find someone I really click with, if that’s even possible. That’s going to be hard with this whole stupid betrothal thing—THANKS AGAIN FER THAT MUM, REAL GREAT, I LOVE IT—but who knows, maybe I can sabotage that somehow?”

A LATE NIGHT Text

@ REGGGGGGIE: hey HEY do u dag

@ REGGGGGGIE: sorry dropped my phone on my face

@ REGGGGGGIE: ok but do u remember the name of that pap i punched last time we were in london ?

@ REGGGGGGIE: i had a dream about him an i wanna @ him on twitter and remind him how i broke his nose lmao

“Hear hear!“ Alphonse downed the remnants of his drink, practically bouncing in place. The delicious thrill that came just before doing something he very clearly shouldn’t do was coming back to him in waves. Abandoning his glass to the nearest tray to catch his eye, the prince waited a second or two before pursuing his latest terrible idea. He passed through the crowd into the chilled night, taking a moment to examine the garden while he still had a good view from above. 

He tapped the woman’s arm lightly, pointing to a statue of some potentially important figure sitting primly among a number of hedges. “Over there, that’s a good place to stash our stuff. I say we take off in opposite directions and race back here. Extra style points if you can reach that guy on a horse in the middle of the palace square without getting caught.” The prince hadn’t bothered waiting for an answer, practically leaping down the stairs. “Unless you’re afraid of a little competition.“

Streaking with a stranger in another royals garden. Was there any better way to spend New Year’s Eve? Sorcha couldn’t think of any. It certainly beat out all her past New Years experiences by several miles. She paused and followed the man’s indication, nodding with approval at his choice. “Good eye.” Ohoho, and he’d made it a challenge. She was practically giddy with excitement as she bounded down the stairs after him. “Competition is my middle name, laddie! Or at least it should be.”

She sprinted towards the statue, skidding to a halt at its base and contorting her arms behind her to make sure the little clasp and zipper at the back were fully undone. She had the benefit of no bra to deal with, so her dress and her undies were shucked off in a flash, heels kicked unceremoniously to one side, and whatever shreds of shame remained in her nowhere to be found. “Eat my bare naked dust, handsome!” she called, before dashing to the left, her goods on display for anyone to see.

“Show me you can––” cut short without getting to finish, she was already strolling off. At first, he did nothing but arch his brow for a second time, but slowly. The ordeal is nothing new to him, he’d seen scandalous pursuits before but not from a girl he barely knew. It made it interesting to see how it would end. He followed her like a shadow until they reached the corridor and allowed her a head start in the dramatics. A small smile carved into his lips with a quick stifle and falling into character behind Sorcha a moment later.  His accent thick and obvious, “signora, the design was thoroughly vetted, it shouldn’t have malfunctioned. It’s a small miscalculation in measurements, surely.” The smirk worn almost broke his act then he noticed the guards patented rosy cheeks. “Hey, hey! Eyes up here,” he snapped repeatedly, “where is it? she needs privacy and we’re in a hurry.” The guards were hesitant yet flustered and he could tell the cogs of their mind were conflicted.

In her mind, Sorcha was cackling up a storm. If anyone at this party had been a mind reader, they probably would have heard her raucous laughter louder than anyone actually speaking near them. But in front of this guard, she was the model of demure embarrassment. After all, royals who knew how to lie were always going to do better on the world stage, and she’d learned to lie very well from a young age. It also helped that the Italtian gentleman who’d challenged her had decided to jump in and assist, and to her surprise he seemed to be an adept actor, too. In a half-whisper that the bodyguard could still hear, she begged, “Please, my fiance supposed to be showing up soon and I can’t see him like... like this.” Perhaps it looked like she was about to start crying, perhaps it was her newfound friend’s commanding tone, or some combination thereof. Either way, the guard (whose eyes jumped up from her chest when he was snapped at) coughed awkwardly and motioned down a hall behind them, mumbling directions to a bathroom about thirty feet down and to the left. “Thank you!” she sighed and hustled past him. When they were well out of earshot, the flush drained from her face and that impish smile took its place once again. “Well, well, look how easy that was.”

“I’m glad he has such a dedicated teacher,” Michael chuckled and let her lead the way. He did make her stop so he could look at a few pieces. “Wow, who knew the Norwegian royal family had so many nice pieces. I need to give people more credit.” He looked at Sorcha, “What do you think?”

Sorcha was pliable when it came to looking at art. She’d always been much better with words and a bow than with paints and canvas, so she was as equally appreciative of older art as of modern art. She stifled a laugh, trying to be discreet since they were technically out of bounds, and cocked her head. “Too right they do. Look at that.” She pointed up at a large portrait of a woman on a horse. “Can you imagine having to sit for hours just to be stuck on a regular old horse? if I have to have a portrait done, I want to be painted on something like a lion. Or a dragon.”

“ okay- but if we get caught, i’m running and YOU’RE going to be the one to blame, capeesh ? ” he was terribly bored of people asking him questions, and his family members were only good for giving dirty stares at each other- entertaining, but not fun. “ the council chamber. it’s probably locked, and honestly they probably don’t want me in it. “ ironically, the people wanted him in zimbabwe’s council chamber. she was right, the norweigans were cold like the weather. “ what’s so bad about the party to you ?? “

"Deal. I will shoulder all responsibility with my usual levels of charm and responsibility." That is, she would find a way to blame her mother. When he said where he wanted to go, Sorcha clapped her hands a little and nodded. “Oh, yes. That’s what I’m talking about. Exploring all the places they don’t want you to see. She shrugged and sniffed a little, glancing around at the ballroom. “I dunno, I was having an alright time. And then people kept congratulating me on getting engaged, and I got tired of telling them I wasn’t happy about it and they could stick their congratulations up their asses. Now there’s a bunch of geezers wandering around glaring at me and it’s getting old.”

The pleasant chime of her laughter drew a smile from his lips and he attempted to channel it with sarcasm as he tilted his head to eye Sorcha in a way that expressed his unspoken, yet tangible,oh really? Having never visited Scotland, he’d have to take her word for it and kept a smile. “Let’s see how you navigate international waters then, hm?” He answered with a sharp smirk and sip of wine. “Just a word of advice, for this ingenious plan,  you will have to speak with your chest and not your lips.”

“Oh, you think I don’t know how to let my ‘chest’ do the talking?” Sorcha replied with another laugh. As she neared a door into a large hallway, she glanced around, taking stock of the nearest guards. She stepped back and behind the door a bit, out of view of most people, and fiddled with her dress. In a moment, one shoulder of her dress was slipped down, making the plunging neckline sag and exposing part of her... well, chest. It wasn’t a dress made to be worn with a bra after all. She shielded the exposed part with her arms, winked at her compatriot,  and then hustled out into the hall and towards the nearest guard. “’Scuse me! Sorry, hi, sorry, um...” Her face flushed and she stared around bashfully. “Could you, uh... could you point me to the nearest washroom? I’m having a, um, wardrobe malfunction.”

It was a pleasant surprise to have found someone with an iota of fun in their body. “And here I was thinking that renegade royalty was out of style. My brother certainly doesn’t seem to enjoy the look, but I prefer it. Why not enjoy what freedom we still have left?“ At least until he was chained down to a woman he didn’t know and given a position he didn’t want. But that was the last thing he wanted to think about tonight, when there were friends to make and a plethora of drinks to try.

The woman’s suggestion caused him to grin even wider than before, mirth rolling off of him in waves. “Now that sounds like a way to liven up a party, and with two people there’s a better chance of shaking off the security that’s bound to follow.” Alphonse glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if anyone was listening before turning back to her with a boyish smile. “Want to go?”

She let out a mock gasp and clutched at an invisible string of pearls around her neck. “Perish the thought! What would the world do without renegade royalty? Gossip about the mailman? Print tabloids about the cashiers down the shops? No no no, we make drama so that life stays interesting. And they can pry that away from our cold, dead fingers.” At that, she raised her glass again in a toast and took a large drink from the dwindling contents.

Sorcha could tell she had his interest, and did a little shimmy of anticipation. “You, my new friend, are a bold wee fucker and I love it! Let’s go, quick, before anyone notices.” She drained the dregs of her champagne and set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, then motioned for him to follow her towards a nearby balcony, where there appeared to be a set of stairs leading down into the gardens.

Michael chuckled, letting her lead her away and giving a reassuring nod to a nearby guard. He had this. “Oh good. I’m glad he has you to keep him on his toes or he might get very bored.” He glanced around, “Down there looks promising. It appears to be a full of art we can look at and touch without permission.” He knew Sorcha well enough to know what she might like.

She nodded with an air of feigned wisdom. “That is my purpose in life: make sure my dearest big brother is prepared for anything and everything once he takes over from mum.” She peeked in the direction Michael indicated, the corners of her mouth curling. “As always, you are a genius. Come on then, my hands are itching to fondle some priceless antiquities.” She started in that direction, a distinct bounce in her step.

“Well,” he said with faux modesty and a stiff smile, “I don’t know where you’re from but a palace this – this decadent isn’t sparing a cost with guards.” He didn’t personally mind escaping, there wasn’t a reason to stay for any of the festivities, per se. “But I’ll follow, only to see if you manage to get by them.”

It was hard to rain on Sorcha’s parade when she was tipsy, and she merely giggled and waved a hand. “Don’t you know? In Scotland, all out security is rabid wildcats brought in straight from the highlands. At least, that’s the joke at home. So I’m quite familiar with tight security.” She crooked a finger at him, beckoning him to follow. “You keep telling yourself that. You’re going to be floored by my ingenious plan. Once I think of one, anyway.”