"You are really stupid, Chris."
Chris threw Taylor a dismissing roll of his eyes. "Oh yeah? Says the girl who only bought one pair of socks."
"How was I supposed to know it was going to be cold?" Taylor said innocently.
"The hint was in the word skiing," Chris said. "A sport that is done on snow."
"Oh fuck off, Chris, I don't need this right now."
Emmy laughed lightly at her friends' bickering. Their fourth day was being spent with a trek through the snowy woods, up the slopes and then back to the restaurant for a late-afternoon snack. Jake, Guy, Skippy and Harry were all competing to be the most able-bodied man, as they marched ahead swiftly, showing no sign of fatigue or muscle aches. In front of Emmy, Zoe and Lizzie walked at an average, easy pace. Finally, the three of them brought up the rear, with Taylor moaning every few seconds that her feet hurt and then taking every opportunity she could to pick a fight with Chris.
"Who's idea was this?" Taylor called ahead. "Because whoever's it was, I deserve a piggy back."
"I believe it was Harry's," Jake said, smirking at his best friend.
Harry scowled. "Skippy's the single one here, I volunteer him."
"You can't volunteer me," Skippy said, outraged. "I have to volunteer myself. Which I don't."
"Besides," Guy said. "You're actually also single, Harry. Hate to point that out."
"Yeah, but I'm not supposed to be," Harry replied smugly. "The only person here I'm allowed to carry is Emmy."
"Is that an offer?" Emmy said.
He shook his head at her, chuckling; over the last four days, Emmy had grown remarkably confident and comfortable around his friends, and he could tell. That first day, she only spoke when spoken to, as few words as possible, before blushing and looking away. Now, she got on excellently with Zoe and Lizzie, and his friends had made an enormous effort to involve her in all their conversations. The result: Emmy was confident and was not afraid to tease Harry in front of them.
"You probably only weigh...what? Six stone?"
"Oh, hilarious," she said, as he slowed to walk with her, Taylor and Chris. "You know, that was such a terrible guess I think you're only trying to flatter me."
"Emmy? Have you seen yourself?" he said matter-of-factly. "You look six stone."
"Six?"
"Well, maybe not that little, but you're short and you're small. Forgive me for guessing your weight badly."
She smiled to herself and rolled her eyes. "Where exactly are we walking to?"
"Just the top of this hill," Harry explained.
"Then what?" Taylor asked.
"We run down," he said. "Trust me, it's the greatest thing you've ever done in your life."
Taylor giggled. "Sounds like fun."
Emmy glanced at her friend, then mentally chuckled. Taylor was doing very badly at trying to convince Harry that she was not at all starstruck around him.
"Here we are," Skippy called from ahead, and the four of them hurried to catch up with them. "Who's running first?"
It was mad. A messy jumble of people running up and down the hill, and Emmy watched as they fell down, as they landed face first in the snow, as Harry spat the frozen water from his mouth and as Skippy fell over in front of him, sending them both sprawling on the cushioned ground. Emmy laughed at them all.
"Wooh!" Chris shouted, as he, too, ran after them, falling halfway down and laughing as he brushed snow from his hair.
"Emmy! Taylor!" Harry called, looking up at them. "Come on!"
Emmy glanced at her best friend, anticipation growing within her, eagerness. Excitement. Without waiting for Taylor to say anything, she jump to start her descent, then ran down in leaps and bounds. The cool air made her eyes water, and it scratched the back of her throat as she laughed, her amusement falling from her easily before, all of a sudden, her body was moving too fast and her legs couldn't keep up – she fell in a heap on the floor.
Harry's laughter met her ears, and she looked up to see him reaching for her. Without asking, he grabbed her arms and gently pulled her to her feet.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," Emmy laughed, glancing behind her to see Taylor dart past. "That was...hilarious."
"Thought you'd enjoy it," he said. "We could try and go back up there again, but the climb kills."
"The run down kills a bit as well," she said, stretching to give her muscles some relief. "Lunch now?"
"Yeah," he said. "Guys? We going to lunch?"
Skippy jumped up and cheered. "Lunch! Yeah! I'm starving!"
"Shut up, Skip, you're always starving," Guy dismissed.
Their banter echoed behind them as, as a group, they made their way across the last few slopes towards the restaurant.
Taylor let out a low, somewhat teasing, whistle as Emmy emerged from her room. The group were going out to a club nearby to enjoy their final night in Switzerland, and Emmy had dressed for the occasion in a black dress with a sparkly bodice and a slightly figure-hugging waistline. It wasn't sexy, nor revealing, nor over the top but, for some reason, Taylor felt the need to treat her like she was wearing something that resembled lingerie.
"Woah," Taylor teased. "Who are you dressing up for?"
Emmy rolled her eyes. "No one. Unless the paparazzi count, I guess."
"Really?" Taylor answered slyly. "Not for...another man?"
"Another man?" Emmy scowled and turned away, knowing exactly what was coming. "No."
"Not another ginger man?"
Emmy exhaled heavily and fixed Taylor with an unamused gaze. "Tay, please. This is our last night to relax before we have to go home. Back to work, back to...you know, the mess that my life has become."
"Why? What's happening when we get home?"
"Well, December is two weeks away," Emmy said. "And the engagement is the second week of December. I'm guessing that I'm going to have a lot of stuff to do."
"Nah, you've got a month yet," Taylor said dismissively, sitting back on the sofa in her own slinky dress. "Don't worry about any of it, Em."
Emmy sighed and sat down in the single chair, resting her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees. "Taylor...I'm nervous."
Taylor looked up from her phone, her eyes softening with concern as she saw the emotion on her best friend's face. She sighed. "Emmy..."
"And don't tell me that it's all going to be alright," Emmy said hastily. "Because...I know that. Because it has to be. It doesn't stop me being scared out of my mind, though."
"I know," Taylor said, smiling sympathetically. "Honestly, Emmy, I know. I don't understand how you feel because I could never understand, but I know. I know that you're scared, I know why and..." She hesitated, then said, "I know that you just need to enjoy tonight."
Emmy half-sighed, half-huffed impatiently. "It's not that easy, Tay-"
"It is," Taylor said. "Well, it is when you've got a hell of a lot of vodka inside of you."
"I don't want to get drunk-"
"Well, you're getting drunk," she said, getting to her feet and smirking down at her. "You're getting drunk whether you like it or not."
"Taylor, you know I don't drink."
"Well that changes now!" Taylor put her foot down to emphasise her words, and her stiletto banged the floor loudly. "Okay? You know what they say – drink is the answer-"
Emmy rolled her eyes at her best friend. "No one says that."
"Yes they do!"
"Who? Alcoholics?" She shook her head to herself. "For some reason, Taylor, that isn't really the path that I want my life to take."
Taylor scoffed and sat back down, flicking her hair from her eyes before fixing her gaze on Emmy. She looked straight at her best friend, right at her, and, for the first time, she saw everything that Emmy was about to go through. She was the engagement, the marriage, the family, the fame, and all the problems and nerves and fear and struggles that that would all bring. She saw Harry, good-looking and charming and funny Harry, and she realised that even his hand in marriage wasn't enough to make up for all of that.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.
Emmy sighed and ducked her head. "I'd rather talk about it now than later, when I'll have a 'hell of a lot of vodka inside of me', as you put it."
Taylor half-smiled. "Go on then. What's wrong?"
"Everything," Emmy said. "And the end of this holiday has just proved that to me."
"What's 'everything'?"
Emmy laughed a brief, bitter laugh. "This is where my life ends, Taylor. This is where it all changes and my life ends and a new life begins. A new life. And..." She swallowed, tears prickling her eyes now. Maybe she shouldn't have brought up this topic now – not when she had just done her make-up. "And a new woman will live that life."
"You can't change, Emmy," Taylor said softly. "You can't think like that. You have to be you. This is the rest of your life that we're talking about, you can't just act for your whole life."
"Why not?" Emmy said. "I have to pretend that I'm in love with him. I have to pretend that I'm living my dream life. When I'm not. When I'm being forced into this-" Her voice broke, and she looked away, swallowing.
"Em-"
"No." She pushed Taylor's tentative hands away. "I'm fine."
"You're obviously not."
"I am," Emmy said harshly, then sighed. "I'm sorry."
"What brought all this on?" she asked. "Is it because it's our last day?"
"Yeah," she said. "And I...I guess you triggered it, a bit."
"How?"
Emmy scoffed; couldn't Taylor see how she'd upset her? "You said about if I was dressing up for Harry..."
"And? I was only joking, Em."
"I know," Emmy said. "But...You don't understand."
"You weren't dressing up for him. I knew that."
"Yes, but in a way I wish I was," she said. "I wish that I loved him. Loved him enough to marry him. That would...make everything a lot easier."
Taylor smiled sadly, but before she could answer, Chris had came out of his room, a huge grin on his face.
"Hey hey hey," he sang. "Ready to go out and partay."
Taylor rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, Chris, you're not going to pull anyone while acting like a twat."
Chris scowled. "Just because I'm in a good mood-"
"Well we're not," she answered, then glanced at Emmy to see how she was doing. Chris followed her gaze.
"Emmy?" he whispered, unable to miss the tears that she was trying to blink from her eyes. "Emmy, what's wrong?"
"Don't worry, Chris-"
"No, tell me," he demanded, moving to crouch in front of her. "What is it?"
Emmy heaved a huge breath, then shook her head. "Nothing," she murmured. "I'm fine."
"Emmy." He raised an eyebrow, and she couldn't help but smile sadly. "Tell me."
"I'm just...being silly."
"No you're not," Taylor piped up. "Emmy, you are not being silly. Your feelings are completely valid."
"What feelings?" Chris asked, then gasped. "Oh my gosh are you having second thoughts about the wedding?"
Emmy scowled. "It's a forced wedding, Chris, I've been having second thoughts from the start."
He chuckled. "Yeah. Sorry. But is either of you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"I'm just scared," she explained, after a sigh. "Tonight is our last night and...as soon as we get home, the scary stuff will begin."
Chris looked at her face, watching as her eyes began to tear again. He took her hand and squeezed it.
"Emmy," he said. "You have to remember that Taylor and I, we're here for you, okay? We're here whenever you need us for anything. And when we get home, yeah, it's going to be scary. But we'll be right there with you, yeah?"
She managed a small smile. "Yeah," she said, her voice wobbly.
"Good," he said. "Now let's go and get drunk."
Emmy still felt miserable later on. Sat in the club, tucked in a booth in the corner where no one catch a glimpse of them, Harry and Emmy sat with Taylor, Chris and Skippy. The couples – who were in frisky moods that night by the look of it – had instantly gotten up to dance, leaving the rest of them to drink and chat for the majority of the evening. By midnight, however, Taylor and Skip were drunk enough to find each other attractive.
"Would you like to dance, madame?" Skippy asked in his worst French accent, and Taylor giggled.
"Oui, oui, oui," she sang, taking his hand and following him to the floor. Chris took one look at them, his eyes finally straying from the bartender that he'd been watching a lot that evening, and he went after them.
Harry sighed; he'd made a beer last all evening as unwelcome work the next day awaited him. "Well, I never thought I'd say it but I'm the sober one."
Emmy smiled; she, too, had forced herself to keep away from the drink. That hadn't been hard: she'd never really drank much of it anyway. "I never imagined you to be the responsible one, either."
"I have work tomorrow," he explained. "What's your excuse?"
"My excuse?"
"For not being pissed."
She half-smiled as she rolled her eyes, then shrugged. "Not a big fan of getting off my head."
He chuckled. "They couldn't have chosen me a girl who was less my type."
"Oh, shut up, you love me really," she teased weakly, but as she said it her smile disappeared and the memory of the conversation she'd had with Taylor before coming flickered in her mind.
As ever, Harry read her like the headline of a newspaper. His expression instantly changed; concerned. "Emmy? You okay?"
"Yeah," she said, forcing a smile. "Have any other papers put anything about us online?"
"There's been a few pictures," he explained. "Mostly us on the slopes, you know. Someone put something on Twitter of us when we went to the city on Tuesday. I expect someone will see us in here and take a picture."
"What are people saying?"
He raised an eyebrow, suspicious, fighting a smirk. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because I do," she said.
"You can easily Google it yourself," he pointed out.
"I guess I..." She trailed off, then smiled bashfully. "I guess I know that you won't tell me the mean stuff that people have said."
"That's true." He chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. "God, I'm bored of this."
"This?"
"Sitting here," he said. "Nice of Jake and Guy to join us."
"You can't blame them for wanting to enjoy the last night with their wives," she said.
"Yeah." He sighed. "I spoke to my father today."
Her heart dropped; that wasn't normally a good thing to hear. "And?"
"Well, we have a meeting with him and Ed as soon as we get home," he explained. "And then we...we have an appointment."
"Where?"
"At the royal jewellers," he said.
"The jewellers?" She frowned. "Why?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh shit," she let out in a sudden breath. "Engagement ring?"
"You got it."
"Oh no." She sat back, her hands going to her mouth. "Now? This soon?"
"Apparently so," he said, bitterness tainting his tone. "Don't worry. It's three weeks away yet."
She nodded, the slightest relief coursing through her – it wasn't that soon. "Okay, that's good."
"Emmy, I want to talk to you." He wasn't looking at her, instead watching his hands as they played with his bottle.
"Okay..." she said slowly.
"I want you to know..." He paused, like he wasn't sure what to say and how to say it. "I want you to know that I'm on your side. I really am, okay? It's me and you, alright?"
She smiled. "Me and you."
"Me and you," he said, nodding.
It was a bittersweet end to their holiday – they clinked their glasses and said cheers and watched as Skippy and Taylor started dancing terribly to the new song. The next day, they would return to their lives, only to learn of Charles and Alexander's new plan for them.