To Wed a Princess

It was 4am when the door to Eloise's apartments clicked open. She frowned and muted Swan Lake which had been playing quietly whilst she read on her kindle and looked up as Brian slid in through the gap before shutting the door behind him.

“I knew it,” he looked incredibly smug for a man in plaid pyjama bottoms and not much else.

“I'm not exactly dressed to entertain,” she murmured, but didn't move.

It was true. She wore revealing silk pyjamas, covered by a gold silk robe, her uninjured, bare leg sticking out from under it, which her kindle balanced on as she read. Her injured leg lay fully covered under the robe, a leg warmer and the bandages underneath that, propped up on cushions beside the other.

“What brings you here at such a scandalous hour?”

“You're not asleep,” he said as though he'd found the cure to world hunger.

She clicked “play” on the stereo remote control and Tchaikovsky started back up.

“I'm aware.”

“Christ, do you listen to anything else?”

“The Nutcracker, occasionally,” she smirked humourlessly at her own joke.

Brian walked over to the couch opposite to the one she lay on and slumped onto it.

“I wanted to be a ballerina when I was a child.”

“And so why didn't you become one? You could click your fingers and get anything you wanted,” it wasn't said lightly, but not grudgingly either.

“I planned to ask my father to get me lessons,” she sighed, eyes scanning over words which she wasn't taking in “But my nanny convinced me not to...practically forbade me. Said it would ruin my feet...make them ugly. Who has attractive feet, anyways?”

She wriggled her toes and then wrinkled her nose as if to emphasise her point.

“So why aren't you asleep?”

Bloody hell, this again.

“I can barely put this book down,” she lied, not even attempting to make it convincing at all “Will knows.”

“Knows what? About Charlotte?”

“No. That you and I are very much in love with each other and couldn't bear to ever be parted for more than a moment,” the words were said with such a lack of compassion that Brian laughed.

“Bet he took that one well.”

“Oh, yes, he's helping me plan the wedding,” she quipped, rubbing at her eyes “We'll tell the rest tomorrow, well, today.”

“Hey, Eloise, what are you reading?”

“What? Oh, erm,” she had to look back to the Kindle to actually remember “A Game of Thrones.”

“Wow, really can't put it down, huh?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, closing the cover over the Kindle and putting it on the coffee table between the two sofas “What's this miracle cure you supposedly have?”

He dug his hand into the pocket of his pyjama pants and then held out two white pills to her.

“Codeine. They'll knock you right out.”

“Codeine messes up your metabolism,” she wrinkled her nose “and it's not getting to sleep that's the problem.”

“More for me,” he shrugged before tipping his head back and throwing the pills into his mouth.

“I'm going to tell them myself,” Eloise sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Well I didn't think you'd tell them through your PA.”

“No. I mean without you.”

The vaguely amused look left Brian's face and his features seemed to become sharper, if that was at all possible.

“I don't think I can trust you like that, Princess.”

“Oh bloody hell,” Eloise breathed “And why is that?”

“What if you tell them the truth, huh? Devise some plan to get me arrested?” he stared her down as though trying to figure out if that was her intention.

“And what do I get from that? Hmm? I tell them alone so they can curse the day you were born and be angry about it freely...then I bring you in and you put on your nice guy act.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“This wasn't a suggestion,” she muttered “It's happening and I don't know why you're being so bloody difficult about it.”

“Who's taking the most risk in this little situation, huh?” Brian quirked an eyebrow, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

“Me!” Eloise's eyes widened “You could kill me!”

“Oh please,” Brian snorted “Tomorrow you could wait until I was distracted, tell everybody who I am and have a fuckin' swat team surrounding you 24/7 until I'm killed. You know the name of my boss, you could have the same done to him. What could I do? What kind of leverage do I have to stop you backing out? Give me one reason to trust you.”

“Why would I back out?”

“Once you break out of this little rut you're in,” he shrugged “You never would of agreed to this shit a month ago. I have every reason to be on edge.”

“Telling them like this is for the best. You're going to need to trust me on this.”

“You're gonna need to give me a reason to trust you. Without that...well, I never will.”

“Like what?” Eloise asked warily, carefully moving so that her feet were on the plush carpet and she was no longer sprawled across the sofa.

Brian's gaze left hers and she felt relieved – his eyes could be far too intense at times. He looked around slowly, as if looking for inspiration, and then his eyes lit up and he was staring her down again, although now slightly wary.

“Let me take a picture of your leg.”

Her heart sank.

“What?” her questioned came out sounding odd and strangled.

He shrugged and said nothing, clearly knowing full well that she'd heard him perfectly.

“No.”

“Then there's no trust in this deal,” Brian shrugged simply “Ever.”

“You're being unreasonable!” she breathed, brows furrowing in disbelief.

“No, sweetheart, I'm being smart. You want equality in this deal? You know what you have to do. That way if you go back on this deal, the photograph hits every social media site known to man.”

Eloise felt physically sick, knowing logically what she should do. What was one photograph over a lifetime of him having his way? Not listening to her? She'd guessed he'd want to even the playing field at some point, but this?

With a shaky breath, Eloise slowly stood, putting all of her weight onto her uninjured leg before shrugging off her dressing gown. Before the silk garment had even hit the floor, she was pulling down the white leg warmer, letting it fall and stay at her ankle. She didn't even bother to look at Brian, but saw him take his phone from his pyjama pant pocket – presumably to take the photograph he clearly wanted so much. By the time she'd begun to unwrap the bandages. The room felt like it was spinning around her. She did her best not to look at the wound as she clutched the bundled up bandages in her left hand whilst her right yanked up the pyjama shorts scandalously high to reveal all of the damage.

If Brian reacted, she didn't hear him do so and didn't even give herself the chance to see it, as she turned so that her right side faced him and she face the wall.

“Take the damn photograph,” she forced out, choking on the words.

One final indignity, it seemed. He may as well have rubbed salt in the wound.

With a quiet “beep”, the flash on his phone went off and she cringed, feeling hot tears spill down her cheeks. He was silent after he put the phone away and Eloise stood there, stock still, willing herself not to sob.

“Look, Eloise,” she heard him sigh reluctantly but cut him off.

“Leave.”

“I'm just-”

“Get. Out.” it was the closest she'd come to raising her voice in a while, but it was strained and her voice cracked on the second word “You have what you want, so leave.”

He sat there for a few more minutes, and Eloise wasn't sure what she was going to do if he refused. Call in security and let them see her standing there in that state? Call on one of her brothers, just hours before she was meant to insist she adored the man who'd upset her so much? Thankfully, it didn't come to that. Slowly Brian stood and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

It was only then that Eloise allowed herself to crumple to the floor, giving a cry at the resulting pain which shot through her thigh. It went without saying that she got no sleep that night, either.