Playboy Princes: A Dark College Romance(12)

"Right, so literally every New American king?"

"Exactly. But Jordan and Rafe went to high school together at Arbon Prep and became the best of friends. So Jordan applied to Arbon without his father's approval, then when he was accepted, there was this whole scandal because King Munroe couldn't decline the enrolment without insulting all the other royals attending Arbon. Like he thought his country offered a superior education for his son or something." Mattie spoke at a million miles an hour, like she could make me forget the hot guy she'd been eye-fucking across the field. He was cute, I'd give her that. But I thought Mattie liked her guys with more... vagina?

"Okay, so if he indirectly said his son was too good for Arbon, he'd have damaged a lot of political alliances?" I double-checked I was understanding Mattie's gossip correctly. "So where did that leave Princeton?"

Mattie screwed up her face, echoing what I suspected. "Offended as fuck."

With almost comical timing, shouts came up from the field below us.

"Oh shit," Mattie cursed, rising slightly out of her seat like she wanted to get down there and intervene. I'd admit, I felt the same way.

Number twelve for the Princeton Panthers was toe-to-toe with Jordan, his body language aggressive as he snarled something into the New American prince's face. For his part, Jordan looked like he was about to start swinging. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, the thick fabric of his goalie gloves only highlighting the gesture.

"Crap," I muttered, my heart thundering as Rafe strode across the field to where Jordan and number twelve were arguing. Something about the way the Swiss prince stalked over the grass told me he was going to punch first, ask questions later.

Mattie grabbed my hand, squeezing my fingers and looking just as worried as I felt. Instinct told me to get down there and punch number twelve myself, regardless of what his deal was. He clearly had issues with Jordan, which meant he had issues with me. Like it or not. But Mattie looked torn.

"We can't do anything to help," she told me, but I suspected she was also telling herself. "The refs won't let it get out of hand."

I rolled my eyes, thinking of the fight I'd witnessed during the last soccer game. The one where Alex had taken a swing at Rafe. The referees hadn't been in any hurry to intervene that time.

Still, before Rafe reached Jordan and number twelve, other members of the Princeton Panthers had already separated the two guys. Two of them were tugging their team member away, creating a buffer zone of their own players to keep him away from Jordan, while another player—number eight—spoke to my friend in a much less aggressive manner.

"Okay, you're going to need to explain what just happened," I told Mattie with a long exhale.

She cringed and sighed. "Number twelve? That's Zachary Westbridge." She paused and gave me a meaningful look, like the name was supposed to mean something to me. "Jordan's half brother."

"What?" I exclaimed, my spine straightening as I halfway jumped out of my seat. “He said he had a sister but made no mention of a brother.”

Mattie groaned. "I forget how tightly our advisers keep information about heirs under wraps when it's all common knowledge to us. Okay, so, Jordan never talks about it, so swear you won't ask him about it?" I nodded quickly. "Zachary is actually older than Jordan by like... six months? I think?"

My jaw dropped. "What?! He should be the crown heir then?"

Mattie gave me a knowing shrug. "Except that he was the byproduct of a super scandalous affair that King Munroe had when he and Queen Diane were going through fertility issues. Zach's mom, Lady Silvia, was six months pregnant when Queen Diane conceived Jordan... so as you can imagine, it became a bit, uh, awkward in the New American court."

"Wow," I murmured, my eyes locked onto Jordan as he paced the field. His anger and agitation were clear as he rolled his shoulders and scowled at anyone within twenty feet of him. "So, then what happened?" Illegitimate children weren't the shameful thing they had been in the Middle Ages when religion ruled kingdoms. Now they were often a necessity to continue family lines. Or at least, they were for commoners. We didn't enter into genetically matched engagements as children.

"King Munroe disowned Zach and all but exiled his mom. She raised him on her family estate in Alberta." She was squirming uncomfortably in her seat with all of this information, and my instincts told me there was more to the story.

I frowned, keeping my eyes on Jordan again. He looked so pissed off...

"So why the bad blood between them? What happened?"

Mattie blew out a long breath, hunching her shoulders. "Well, for one thing, Zach and Jordan have had their mothers poisoning them against each other their entire lives. Every time they’re in the same place together—which happens a lot in royal circles—they end up in a fight over something stupid."

I shifted my gaze back to her, narrowing my eyes. "And the other reason?"

"The other reason?" She cringed. "Is that Zach’s my fiancé."

I swear, my jaw just about hit the fucking floor.

"I'm going to need you to repeat that."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh come on. You know we all get sold off at like age six.” She faked a gag.

"Yeah, I know. I just thought you'd have mentioned this before now. Damn, Mattie, way to be a shitty friend." I was teasing, and she knew it.

"Shut up," she grumbled, jabbing me in the side with her elbow. "Anyway. It's caused no end of drama whenever we have interactions with Zach. He's a bit of a douchebag, to be honest, and slutty as all hell. Jordan and the guys kinda hate that he's my future."

I nodded, understanding where they were coming from. "But you were just staring at him like you wanted to lick him all over."

Mattie snorted a laugh. "I'm not fucking blind, Vi. If it helps, I totally looked at you like that when we first met, too."

I laughed before my humor faded away at another thought. “It’s kinda odd that you’d be matched to someone who is exiled though, right? I mean, you’re a princess and he’s pretty much nothing.” Her laughter died off, too, her brow furrowing.

“Is this the actual proof we need that it’s all about the future royals?” I pushed. “That they only care about the perfect genetic match for babies and since he has royal blood, he’s eligible?”

Mattie no longer looked remotely amused. “Yeah. They always joke about royals being genetically superior, but it’s starting to look like they’re actively working to make that happen.”

I had a flashback to that fucking nurse again when she all but sexually assaulted me during her examination. In truth, I really had no idea what she’d done. I was just assuming she’d told me the truth, and the whole truth at that. I was no doctor and hadn’t exactly checked what she was sticking inside me… it could have been anything.

The thought of that, the feeling of being violated, had my stomach churning.

“We need to know more,” I murmured.

Mattie nodded, but then the announcements started and we focused on the game, relaxing into our seats. Given how high the tensions were between the teams, I'd bet it would be a good one, and I was glad to have the distraction.

"Thanks for telling me," I said to my friend after a few moments of silence. "But there’s one more thing I'm wondering now..."

Mattie shot me a sharp look. "What?"

I bit my lower lip, anxiety churning in my stomach. "Who is Jordan engaged to?"

As soon as the words left my lips, I wanted to take them back. I already knew Rafe's betrothed and knew she posed zero threat to me. Not that I cared. It wasn't like I actually wanted to date Rafe or anything crazy like that, but we had fucked.

Jordan, though? I could actually see myself with him... going out for dinners or movies or just, I don't know, hanging out. Intimately.

Mattie shook her head. "I don't know."

Well, that wasn't what I’d expected.

"What do you mean, you don’t know? Jordan's a crown prince; he's engaged to someone isn't he?" I frowned at her now, uncertain if she was lying to spare my feelings or something. But seriously, who could be that awful? Claudette was already taken—by Rafe—and no one else was remotely as horrible as her.

She nodded. "Definitely. But he's never told us who, and no girls at Arbon have laid claim, so..." She shrugged. "Noles and I think it might be a younger girl, and Jordan's respecting her by not publicizing their engagement until she's eighteen."

I sighed. That rang true to his personality. Damn him for being so... decent.





Chapter 9





The Arbon Royals won the match, but fuck it was close. There were no fights on the field, but it was one of the most intense, aggressive matches I’d seen in a long time. That included sports that were not soccer. “Wow, that bad blood wasn’t at all obvious out on the field,” I said somewhat sarcastically. “They kept it well locked down.”

Mattie snorted. “I’m just grateful no one got punched.”

“Not yet,” I murmured. “Luckily the dressing rooms for the two teams are on opposite sides of that long hall, so they won’t end up throwing down while half-naked.”