Free Paper Princess: A Novel (The Royals Book 1) by Erin Watt

care?” Reed mutters. “You made it clear where you stand—and it’s no longer at our side.”
    “You’re my brother and I’m worried about—” He halts when he notices me approaching.
    They both tense up, and then Reed turns to greet me, and by greet me, I mean give me a laundry list of things I can and cannot do.
    “This is Jordan’s place. Her parents deal in hotels. Don’t get sloppy drunk. Don’t embarrass the Royal name. Don’t hang around us. Don’t use the Royal name to get anything. Act like a whore and we toss you out on your ass. Gid says your mom was a prostitute. You don’t try that shit here, got it?”
    The infamous Royal decrees.
    “Screw you, Royal. She was not a prostitute, unless dancing is your version of sex and if so, your sex life must suck.” I meet Reed’s hard eyes with defiant ones. “Do your worst. You’re an amateur compared to what I’ve been through.”
    I waltz past the Royal brothers and hike inside like I own the place, then regret it instantly, because everyone in the front parlor turns to stare at me. Pounding bass music thuds through the house, shaking the walls and vibrating beneath my feet, and loud voices and laughter echo from beyond an arched doorway to my left. A couple of girls in skimpy tops and skin-tight jeans eye me in disdain. A tall polo-shirt-wearing guy smirks at me as he raises a beer bottle to his lips.
    I fight the urge to race back out into the night, but I can cower and be a target for the next two years, or I can brazen it out. The best I can do is be bold-faced when necessary and blend in whenever I have the opportunity. I’m no one’s bitch, but I don’t need to make waves either.
    So I just smile politely in the face of their stares, and when their gazes shift behind me toward the incoming Royals, I take the opportunity to duck into the nearest corridor. I keep going until I find the quietest corner, a shadowy little nook tucked at the end of a hallway. While it seems like the perfect make-out spot, it’s empty.
    “It’s still early,” a female voice says, and I jump back in surprise. “But even if it was later, this part of the house is always empty.”
    “Oh God, I didn’t see you there.” I clasp a hand over my racing heart.
    “I get that a lot.”
    As my eyes adjust to the dark, I see that there’s an armchair situated in the corner. The girl on the chair pushes to her feet. She’s really short, with chin-length black hair and a tiny mole over her top lip. And she’s got curves I’d kill for.
    “I’m Valerie Carrington.”
    Jordan’s sister?
    “I’m—”
    “Ella Royal,” she interrupts.
    “Harper actually.” I peer around her. Was she reading with a flashlight? I spot a phone lying on the small table next to the chair. Texting with her boyfriend? “You hiding?”
    “Yup. I’d offer you a chair, but there’s only one here.”
    “I know why I’m hiding,” I say with sheepish honesty, “but what’s your excuse? If you’re a Carrington, don’t you live here?”
    She snickers. “I’m Jordan’s poor cousin twice removed. A complete charity case.”
    And I bet Jordan doesn’t let her forget it. “Hiding’s not a bad thing. If you run away, you live to fight another day. That’s my theory at least.” I shrug.
    “Why are you hiding? You’re a Royal now.” There’s a slight sneer in her voice that makes me strike back.
    “Like you’re a Carrington?”
    She frowns. “Gotcha.”
    I run a hand over my forehead, feeling like a complete jerk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s been a long couple of days and I’m dead tired and completely out of my element.”
    Valerie’s head tilts and she contemplates me for a few seconds. “Okay then, Ella Harper ”—she emphasizes that as if it’s an olive branch—“let’s find something to wake you up. You know how to dance?”
    “Yeah, sort of, I guess. I took lessons when I was younger.”
    “This will be fun then. Come on.”
    She leads me