Cass had no idea what he'd done the night before, but he was pretty sure he'd been drunk…like, drunk as fuck.

"Where is the…" he rolled over, searching for a lamp of something that would illuminate the circumstances.

"Get your lazy royal ass up and dressed. The woman you got yourself engaged to is having a ball, remember?" his assistant growled from the phone he'd accidentally turned on in his waking haze.

"Teller I'll go later," he growled, smacking randomly at the phone.

"How hungover are you? You're not even making words." his assistant chuckled. "My sister is sooo lucky to have you."

"Your sister can go fuck a dragon," Cass mumbled, finally managing a coherent sentence. He hung up.

Caspian was tired of the royal duties, the calls, the ribbon-cutting, the endless balls—the fact that he had to put up with that witch his parents had forcibly engaged him to. Caspian was grumpy, and when Cass got grumpy, he got drunk. It was the chain of events.

"Hello?" he called out, sliding out of the stranger's bed, glad to find himself fully clothed. "Is there anyone here?"

"Yeah, I know, places to go and people to see, walk of shame, blah blah blah," an ash-blonde girl said almost cheerfully, bustling into the room. She handed him a large Starbucks cup filled to the brim with steaming liquid.

"Um…thanks," Cass muttered, trying to wake himself up. "…uh…"

"Ashley," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry about not knowing my name; I'm not the girl you were with last night. I'd talk to your doctor about that, by the way…she had some decidedly Snooki-like attributes." Cass followed the girl into her kitchen, where he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

"Why am I here?" he asked, pocketing his cell phone before he could lose it again.

"I found you in the highest branches of my magnolia, trying to tell the entire world your opinion of the popular 'Pretty Little Liars' series. I don't like Toby either, by the way. His tan does look fake." She had her back turned, but from what Cass could see she seemed to be washing dishes.

"Yeah, um…I don't remember any of that…and if my publicity guy is any good, you'll be mightily well compensated if you don't, either," he suggested, frowning and knowing that things were about to get awkward.

"Yes, I know," Ashley replied, sliding a stack of plates into a cabinet. "Just don't molest my foliage again, okay?" She looked back at him seriously. "I mean that…I think you got pretty intimate with the rose bush out front." Cass looked down at himself in surprise, noting that he did indeed have multiple scratches on his arms, and there was a thorn caught in his shoelace.

"I guess I'll see you later then," Cass announced, standing and heading out to call a cab. "Thanks for letting me crash here. I'll try to restrain myself around your garden next time."

…

"Son of a gunslinger," Ed hissed as Cass walked into the mansion he shared with Sue. "Who roughed you up?"

"Apparently, a bush," Peter chuckled. "There's a leaf in your hair, dude." Cass looked in a mirror.

"Yeah…I don't know what I did last night, but according to the chick I met I climbed a tree and fell in her roses or something." Cass yawned. "Where's that beautiful bride-to-be of mine?" he asked, grinning.

"Man, don't even joke about that," Ed grumbled. "The lady's a monster, Cass, I swear. Today she almost shot me. Like, for serious, shot, with a friggin' bow and arrow."

"As your publicist, I can't recommend destroying gardens," Peter said seriously. "And as Susan's brother-in-law, I must say, you're screwed."

"Not even," Cass replied. "I don't even get screwed in this deal. I just get a bunch of responsibility I didn't ask for, a crazy Vicodin-addicted royal wife, and the right to be the uncle of your and Ellen's future reproductive successes."

"You forgot to mention that I get to be the godfather to your and Lucy's future illegitimate munchkins," Peter added, grinning. Cass scowled.

"Whoa, not cool, bro," Ed muttered, looking at Peter. "That's my sister you're talking about."

"Ed, I love you, but Lucy's totally—you know, she's all—" Peter paused. "What's a polite way of saying prostitute?"

"I'll show you polite," Ed growled, tackling Peter to the ground.

"Way to show polite," Cass commented, moving further into the house.

"Caspian? Are you home?" A dark-haired girl with average looks and lips that were a little too naturally poofy to be attractive flounced down the marble staircase in a dress that Cass could've sworn he'd seen some celebrity in only a few nights before.

"Yeah, I'm home," Cass grumbled, dropping onto the nearest couch.

"You do know that I've been planning this ball for months…well, years, really...and that you simply cannot be absent, right?" She smiled at him sweetly.

"I'll be there," Cass muttered, reaching for the remote.

"WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU LAST NIGHT?" Susan screamed, grabbing the remote and throwing it across the room, releasing the cloud of anger that Cass had been able to sense as soon as she had smiled.

"Royal business. Top fucking secret." Caspian closed his eyes and tried his best to look asleep.

"Oh? Royal business? Who is she?" Susan stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. "Had a satisfying night, Caspian? I see you've got the scratches to prove it," she snarled, and Cass crossed his arms over his chest.

"Look, bitch, I don't like you and you don't like me. You're free to do whatever the fuck you want as long as you leave me the hell alone. This whole thing is only going down because my parents wouldn't bail me out unless I married your fat ass. I'm going to sleep off my hangover now. If you throw anything at me, or yell again, then I don't think I'll be awake enough to make it to your stupid ball without bringing a ho or two to be my entourage. Bye now. Have fun." With that, he closed his eyes and drifted off.

…