“Because it would be cool to be famous for something,” Jay answered matter-of-factly when Iris asked her question. Despite what she and Cas said about Miles, he sprawled out even more on the sofa with his hands behind his head and both feet kicked up on the opposite armrest. “I wouldn’t mind getting word out about my autobody shop and being recognized for it. If a producer came along and said he wanted to make a show out of what I do, there’s no way in hell I’d turn that offer down.”

[color=#b97703]“Being famous is also overrated,”[/color] Caspian pitched in, wrinkling his nose at the subject. [color=#b97703]“You lose a lot of privacy, and everything you do has consequences because people are watching your every move. It gets old fast.”[/color] If he’d had his choice, he would have preferred to be a contestant on a reality show over being the heir to the crown. At least that way, his lack of privacy would have been temporary rather than something he would have to put up with for the rest of his life. There were some perks, he couldn’t deny that, but for the most part, he found himself dreaming of escaping from his fate and being a regular high born.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jay rolled his eyes. “We all know how you feel about it.” He and Miles had heard the spiel many times before, since the prince was fairly vocal about his distaste for the spotlight. They knew he would have preferred to live his life under a rock rather than put up with paparazzi, reporters, nosy supporters, interviews, and all the other things that came with being royalty in Aspiria. Neither of them understood it though. To them, being a member of the royal family sounded amazing, and they would have traded places with him in a heartbeat if they could.

Cas didn’t bother to reply. He knew his friends didn’t understand the weight that came with being the crown prince. Even if he’d liked the attention—and he didn’t always enjoy it—he also had to take into account the responsibilities, private classes, meetings with dignitaries, involvement with the military, and all the pressure he was under to meet the expectations of the monarchy’s main ring of support. It was a lot for one person to handle.

Glancing down at Iris, his smile returned as she carried on the conversation about TV shows in the capital. [color=#b97703]“Oh yeah?” he mused. “What was the film about? Now that you’ve said that, you’re gonna have to tell us the details.”[/color]

At her mention of going outside, Cas followed her gaze to the window. He wished he could assure her that she wouldn’t be cooped up much longer, but in truth, he had no idea how long it would be until she could leave the Kinders’ home. The soldiers might believe she had left the capital, but they still knew her face. If she suddenly reappeared in the streets, they would arrest her immediately. He paused in his absentminded tracing of her shoulder blades, perplexed by the thought. Maybe he could talk to Jacob about it. Surely the guard would have some ideas as to how he could smuggle her from Miles’ bedroom to a safer location—

“Who’s ready to eat?”

Abruptly, Caspian’s thought were interrupted when Miles burst into the room carrying two large, cardboard boxes in his hands. The smell of hot pizza wafted through the space, and his stomach growled reflexively. Closing the door with his leg, Miles strode over to the coffee table and set the food down on the surface along with a set of four plates. Dusting off his hands, he turned toward Jay, “Move over, jackass. You’re in my seat.”

“Make me,” Jay winked at him challengingly.

Without hesitation, Miles dove for him, and the two began wrestling over the sofa just as Cas had predicted. The prince snorted and leaned forward in his chair. [color=#b97703]“Mind grabbing me a couple slices while they’re occupied?”[/color] he asked Iris, placing his hand on her collar. [color=#b97703]“One of each kind of pizza, please. They’re both great.”[/color]