The Royal Heir - Dancing with my eyes closed

One-month kiss anniversary

The reception's in full swing now. Dinner's over, the champagne's flowing, love, laughter and music are filling the air, yadda yadda. I should be in my element, right?

I plan to hit the dancefloor with a capital H soon, once Bella's finished smearing what's left of her tiny slice of wedding cake all over her high-chair tray anyway. But right now, as I'm watching the happy couple have their first dance, I'm feeling a bit, uh, reflective?

Not having Jen by my side today has been far weirder than I thought it would be, and I don't like it. I'm kind of seeing her everywhere, picturing where she'd be, what she'd be wearing, who she'd be talking to. It's like even though so many months have passed now, no time has passed at all.

If Tommy were here, he'd remind me that the metaphorical ball in my metaphorical box is clearly having a busy day. But he's not here.

After the first dance, others join the newlyweds on the dancefloor, and I think about grabbing Bella and heading over. But before I get the opportunity to de-cake her grubby face, I see Landon making his way over. He's smiling and relaxed; quite the contrast to every other time I've seen him over the last few weeks. "Maxwell!"

"Hey, Landon," I say, as he sits down in the chair that Jen would've totally been sitting in if she were here, and places a full flute of champagne down in front of him. I think from the lopsided grin and his tone of voice he's had a good few of those this afternoon.

"I really can't thank you enough," he says. "You've singlehandedly freed us from your father's hold, and brought my daughter endless joy."

"Well, I don't know about that," I say, swigging down some champagne myself. "I just started the ball rolling. Penelope has to take most of the credit. But it's awesome to see Penelope and Zeke so happy together."

There's an ominous cough, and when I look back up, my father dear is standing behind Landon, the venom in his eyes not very well hidden by his wooden smile. "Landon. Congratulations on your daughter's most joyous wedding."

"No thanks to you," I point out.

"I've no idea what you're implying, son," Dad says, throwing on that fake hurt expression that I recognise as fake so well because it's identical to mine. I only ever use it for comedic reasons, never to deceive people, though. Or attempt to. "I'm sure the evidence will show that this unscrupulous character was working completely alone."

"Huh, meaning you've covered up your slimy tracks."

Dad turns back to Landon. "Of course, just because circumstances have changed, I do hope that you stay mindful of our relationship, and the pros and cons that.."

There is rage in Landon's eyes, and in his tone as he bellows an abrupt response. "Oh, can it, you old bag!"

Landon is my new hero! Everyone in the room quietens and turns to the two of them.

"Excuse me?" Dad's pretty shocked. I mean, we all are. Just, most of us in a good way.

"You won't manipulate me anymore, you nasty old toad," Landon goes on. "My daughter showed courage and strength today, and I'll do the same from now on. So save your scheming. I will be supporting King Rick in the final vote, and his choice of custodian for his heir." He smiles at Bella, then at me. "You're doing a great job, Maxwell."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dad says, with an ominous glare. "Very well, Duke Landon. Enjoy the night."

Landon dances off, but Dad isn't going anywhere.

"What?" I ask him.

"It seems in order to express my congratulations on your newfound support," he seethes.