-Xavier
Kellan
"It was just a game of strip poker. It is not as if I married a stripper."
That I could understand my older brother flipping out about.
"You couldn't have just closed the curtains?" He huffs. "The damn curtains, Kellan!"
"I could have, but then how would they have taken such a fantastic shot of the lucky ace tattoo on my ass?"
You want to see it, don't you? You want to be flashed or see me completely naked? Naked. Always choose naked.
His wife giggles from behind the magazine she's pretending to read.
"Really, Soph?" His annoyed expression falls to her. "You do realize laughing does not help this situation."
"What situation?" Sophia snips on another snicker, dropping the object back into her lap. "Kellan was simply....being Kellan."
"You're defending him?"
"No," she says slowly and looks up to lock eyes with him. "I'm just saying he has a point. It's not as if he married a stripper or did something worse like burn down a church in the middle of Sunday service-"
I extend my legs across the red cushioning of the love seat. "Are you saying if I burn down a church not on a Sunday that's acceptable?"
Sophia rolls her eyes.
Did you not feel as if that was valid information to know? Oh relax. I would never burn down a church. I prefer my media attention to center around my clothing or lack thereof.
"Your brother was simply having a little fun."
"Something I swear you used to be," I tease.
They say blondes have more fun. Truth is...we really do. Between my hair, my bright blue eyes, and my toned muscles from a timeless love affair with lacrosse, let's just say the fun never stops coming my direction with open legs. Or mouths. Rarely hands. I prefer the other options first anyway.
"Right, Soph? He used to be fun, didn't he? He wasn't always...scowling?"
She giggles again and my older brother oscillates his glare between us.
For the most part, looks wise, we're almost identical except that expression on his face has been more prevalent lately. I blame the pressures of being the royal couple. Our entire country, along with several others, is waiting and watching for their next move. Speculating. Scrutinizing. Spreading lies about Soph having surgery to tighten her tummy to keep my brother happy. People gossiping about his wife's choice in winter wear and exercise routines. His decision for them to attend or not attend someone's 'grand' birthday party. When oh when will they finally bare another heir to the throne that isn't anything more than just a title in a long list of other titles? A throne built on mutual assured prosperity that's discussed over brandy regardless of what time it may be. I assume if I cared more about what j thought or gave a damn about what is expected of me, I might frown a little more than I do, which is practically never. Kristopher used to smile quite often too before his love life was all the media wanted to talk about between my father's impeccable ability to soothe strained relationships from our family's past, and my inability to keep the royal jewels in my pants from being shined. Or at least he used to smile...more. According to him, I came out of the womb smiling and have yet to truly stop with the exception of our mother's untimely death.
"Kristopher is fun. He's just wearing his responsible big brother face," she brushes away as she turns the page in her magazine.
"Responsible big brother face or king in training face? Because I swear that's the same face father makes minutes before he begins his loving yelling, or 'shouting' as the rest of the world calls it."
"Has it ever occurred to you he has merit to his shouting?" he defensively counters.
I shake my head with a smirk. "None of my behaviors are new."
"Precisely." His hands wrap around the back of the red couch in our palace library where his wife is sitting. "You may dread the title of Duke and the social responsibilities we carry as Princes, but you have to grow up sometime, Kellan. For Christ sake, you're almost thirty! It's time you start behaving as such."
Dread the titles. Dread the social politics. Dread the long list of should dos and never dos. The only thing I don't dread are the royal jets I use as my own private taxi service to fly around the world on every whim I have. Beats the hell out of drowning in an ocean of archaic expectations.