I want to first thank you all for the support and reviews. I really appreciate it. Between university, work, family, a short vacation and lost luggage, I had little time to write, therefore this chapter took so long. This is actually half of the original chapter, but the chapter started to take on monstrous proportions (I was already on 7,000+ words and probably halfway) so I decided to cut it and give you guys something to read in the meantime. It's unedited, so bear with me. Also, it's a Poppy-heavy chapter, but once you've read the next, it'll make sense. Thank you all for reading!

Chapter 3. For Frost

Seeing him, at first, had been a shock. She'd had no time to prepare. Liam hadn't told her anything, hadn't warned her of his presence – he'd forgotten to inform her, Liam would later claim, but she knew he hadn't told her on purpose. Knew she would've gone ballistic, would've forced him to retract the invitation. She would have instructed the guards to deny him entrance to the club, had she known. But she hadn't known and so seeing him there, standing next to her brother, had been a shock. She had walked away without saying a word.

The second time she had been ready, had even sought him out, strengthened by Beck's presence on her arm and the alcohol running through her body. And then she had noticed her.

Her dress was stunning, her hair long and Jasper's arm so casually around her shoulders, was enough to make anger burn through her veins. She'd held a tight rein on it, though. Barely. And when he had walked away from her, pulling the girl with him, it felt like the day of the King's Cup all over again.

'She's a nice girl,' Liam had said.

'And there's nothing going on between you and the bodyguard, so why be bothered,' Robbie had added smartly. She hadn't been in the mood for that, had left Beck with his best mate and her idiot brother and had stalked off in search of more alcohol.

She might've seen them huddled together in a corner, might've seen them kiss and she might've begged Ashok to hook her up with something, because all of this was just opening up old wounds. And when her high kicked and she almost felt euphoric, she looked for that girl. She found Jasper first and followed his gaze, that penetrating gaze that used to make her shiver, his gaze which was now focused on someone else. On her.

She was high and she was drunk, and she just wanted him to look at her like that and so she joined her on the dancefloor.

The wound was already open; rubbing salt in it was only the logical thing to do.

Even now she could hear her own voice echoing in her mind, when she had whispered in the girl's ear. Cursed herself still.

'He's a good one, Poppy. Don't take him for granted, like I did.'

Or perhaps he's taking you for granted, she had thought smugly when he had followed her out on the balcony, because he was looking at her like that now and not at Poppy anymore and the God's damn it all, but she had missed him so, so, so much.

She hadn't planned on kissing him back, hadn't planned on going there again, had simply wanted to get him away from Poppy, for whatever self-destructive reasons.

And self-destruct she did.

Afterwards, she had latched herself onto Beck to forget, and secretly she hoped he was doing the same, because every time she glimpsed him from the corner of her eye, he was kissing Poppy. Deep down she knew it wasn't so – knew that for him there was nothing to forget at all – and she wondered whether her bleeding heart was leaving a trail.

When one of Ashok's mates had dragged her into a restroom, showing her a little, white envelope, the night had turned into a blur. Thank God.

When they had gotten back to the palace, Liam had chewed her out and Robbie had berated her, but she hadn't listened and she hadn't cared much because at least the drugs had lulled her senses and seeing Jasper didn't seem to hurt as much anymore.

Except it did.

That was why she didn't know what had possessed her less than two weeks later – perhaps she simply liked to inflict pain upon herself – when Liam had announced to her he was having lunch with Jasper in the palace gardens. She had jumped off the sofa, had barked at him to give her five minutes, because, in the name of all things sacred, she was bloody coming with them.

Perhaps she needed new wounds. Perhaps he hadn't hurt her enough and maybe a reminder why he was bad news was what she needed. Or maybe she simply wanted to see him because she missed him so fucking much.

She hadn't expected bloody Poppy to be there too, though.

And so she sat in the garden, shades on her face, with only her thoughts to occupy her, and for fuck's sake, what was she doing here? Her salad tasted stale and her tea was bland, and the company, even her brother, was getting on her nerves. She was craving a cigarette, wanted some alcohol, needed her drugs. This prison of her own making was driving her crazy.

Once again Liam had her fooled. Forgotten to inform her. As if.

He – bloody Jasper – had the fucking audacity to look comfortable, to even smile – he never smiled, why was he smiling? – at Liam, at her, and at her – and every time he smiled at Poppy it felt like a knife being jabbed deeper into her side. Perhaps he was just better at acting than she was or maybe – and fuck, even thinking it hurt – just maybe she really hadn't meant anything to him after all.

It was nauseating watching them. They weren't the most affectionate couple, but the way they behaved around each other showed such ease. The slight touches – she had seen her hand on his leg a couple of times already – and the way she would feed him small bites from her plate – 'You should really taste this, Frost,' and she would just force the fork into his mouth. There was nothing romantic about it, but it irked her either way – and when he removed a smudge of chocolate from the corner of her mouth, she practically choked on her tea.

'You don't like the food, Princess?'

She was shook from her thoughts when the girl – Poppy, she needed to start to refer to her as Poppy – addressed her with a concerned look on her face.

'You can call me Eleanor,' she smiled so sweetly her gums ached, glancing at Jasper from the corner of her eye. 'And it is good, I am just full. Had a hefty breakfast this morning.'

'You don't mind then,' the girl – Poppy! – grinned as she reached over and took a hold of Eleanor's salad bowl. So much for being concerned. She should start calling her the Pig.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust as Poppy started to eat the remnants of her salad, but Liam thought it an excellent idea and joined her. The Prince and the Pig, how fitting. It sounded almost as good as the Princess and the Bodyguard.

She snuck another glance at Jasper, was surprised to find him looking at his girlfriend and supposedly best friend with amusement on his face.

She scoffed.

'Problem, Princess?' he asked and she knew he was baiting her.

'None at all, Jasper,' she replied. 'None at all.'

He smirked smugly and she pretended her tea was mightily interesting.

Liam and Poppy had launched into a conversation about the party and her ears perked up when she heard Poppy complain about Jasper's lengthy absence.

'You'd think the bastard would stay by my side,' she complained, 'me, being all alone and not knowing anyone there. I could've been roofed.'

Jasper snorted.

'She left me as soon as she had the chance,' he told Liam. 'She and her new friend even had the nerve to tell me I was boring and when she discovered you and Robbie I'm pretty sure she cursed the day I was born.'

'She's not alone,' Eleanor muttered. She signalled one of the waiters who were standing at ease at the edges of the garden terrace.

'Can I get something stronger,' she asked. 'Coke or speed preferably, but weed will do just fine.'

When the boy stared at her, she rolled her eyes.

'Wine,' she snapped. 'White and dry.'

'Do you mind if I share a glass with you,' Poppy asked and Eleanor had to resist the urge to glare at her.

She was the fucking reason she was drinking in the first place. Well, her and that good for nothing bloody ex-bodyguard.

She plastered on a big smile and nodded graciously. 'Of course.'

Wine. Something else they had in coming besides their taste in men. She snorted at the absurdity of it all.

'I waved at you,' Poppy said incredulously and Eleanor only just noticed the conversation had continued without her. Were they still on the subject of Jasper's disappearance?

She wished for the waiter to return quickly. She did not want to be reminded of what he had been doing during his momentary absence. At least, not sober.

'You came from the balcony I believe,' Poppy said and Eleanor felt Liam's eyes burn into her.

'Where were you, Lenny?' he had asked, when eventually she had returned to the party, eyes red-rimmed and considerably more intoxicated than she had been before.

'The balcony,' she had replied nonchalantly, and when he had asked her with whom, she had taken his full glass of rum and had walked off.

'The balcony,' Liam repeated Poppy's words. 'Really?'

Yes,' she said, oblivious. 'And then when I waved at him, he just walked the other way. Bloody prick.'

She slapped Jasper playfully on his arm and Eleanor sweetly smiled.

'What a prick,' she repeated and she revelled in the way his jaw tensed.

'Nobody asked you, Eleanor,' he said. He was fiercely protective of Poppy, Eleanor had already deduced a while ago, and perhaps she was jealous, and maybe not, but she wouldn't mind having his hand on her knee and not Poppy's, squeezing gently, making her feel comfortable, even though he thought Eleanor hadn't seen it and she pretended not to.

She was grateful when the waiter returned with a bottle of white. Impatiently she snatched it from his hands and took a big gulp straight from the bottle.

The way his jaw tensed, how he flexed his hand when he thought no one was looking, told her that he was annoyed and she loved it. Perhaps she didn't have his love anymore, but she would settle for his anger.

'So Poppy,' she interrupted the conversation between her brother and the girl, couldn't care less about it and smiled broadly at Poppy. 'Tell me more about yourself, I am simply dying to get to know you.'

She prided herself for only allowing the slightest bit of mockery into her tone. He, of course, heard and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. She fed on his discontent. Thrived on it.

She almost forgot to listen to Poppy.

'Where were you born?' she asked, adopting a look of confusion, and Poppy laughed.

'Most people give me that face,' she grinned, 'Jackass Lane. It's in the area of Keston. Pretty sweet place to grow up. Literally six houses, one of them ours. Lots of jackasses, though, but that's to be expected.'

She smirked at Eleanor and the Princess grinned back before she even realised what she was doing. They fell into easy conversation, speaking of Poppy's childhood, her growing up in a house with five brothers, her moving to London and Eleanor, in all honesty, didn't even have to work hard to feign attention. The girl spoke a lot, but listening to her was manageable, perhaps even enjoyable. Mostly, it seemed to annoy Jasper and that was the only incentive Eleanor needed.

She leaned forward, closer to Poppy, lapping up every word that came from the girl's mouth. She handed Poppy the bottle, urging her to take a sip too, and from the corner of her eye she saw Jasper narrowing his eyes. Eleanor ignored him.

'Amazing,' Eleanor gushed at something Poppy had said and the two girls shared a laugh. Liam looked on satisfied, Jasper feigned indifference.

But she knew better. Eleanor knew better. When she laid a hand on Poppy's arm, conspiratorially inching closer, whispering in the girl's ear, she could practically feel his anger, this burning fire, and it sent a spark through her in ways more rousing than she cared to admit.

She shivered and signalled the waiter for another bottle.

She twirled a lock of Poppy's around her finger, pulling slightly, and when Poppy leaned forward, Eleanor smugly looked over her shoulder. Jasper was glaring at her and she smiled at him serenely. His anger was radiating from him in waves and she basked in it. Ran a finger down Poppy's arm and she told her that, yes, she loved Banbury cakes and they should certainly get some soon. Definitely.

'I don't think so,' Jasper interrupted. 'The two of you aren't going anywhere.'

His hand, previously on Poppy's leg, was balled into a fist, but aside that there was hardly anything showing he was mad or even irritated. But Eleanor knew better. She saw it in his stance, in his slightly faster breathing, in his eyes, those fucking dark eyes staring at her, penetrating her and for fuck's sake, she could feel it in the heat and wetness already gathered at her centre. She was aching for his touch and it was pitiful, she knew, but there was nothing she could do about it.

His eyes were hard as he stared at her and she smirked.

'Jealous I'll steal your little girlfriend from you?' she asked. 'Like you tried to steal what's mine?'

'Eleanor,' Liam exclaimed, but she ignored him.

'Afraid that she'll like me better than she does you?' she continued, taunting him.

'No one likes a bitch, Eleanor,' Jasper replied. 'And we all know what you are.'

'Frost!' Poppy punched him in the side, eyeing him sharply.

'Behave,' she mouthed, but he shook his head.

'No,' he said, getting up from his chair. Eleanor rose with him, almost delighted, eager. Liam and Poppy followed, sharing a quick, worried look.

'I am not jealous, Princess,' Jasper sneered. 'And I am not afraid. This isn't about you. You need to understand, I don't give a fuck about you.'

'Didn't seem that way at the birthday party when you were just short of fucking me on the balcony,' she snapped back and she didn't dare look at Poppy, pretended she hadn't heard her gasp, didn't see Liam's mouth fall open.

All she saw was Jasper and the way his eyes darkened and she had gone too far and it hurt, because his anger would feed her, but his contempt and disgust broke her down.

'I don't want my girlfriend hanging out with you,' he said slowly, carefully articulated, enunciated and his calm was so deceptive. 'Because I don't want you to drag her down. I don't want you to let her into your world and then spit her out when she starts to think she has a place there. I don't want here to believe the two of you can actually have a real bond, because you're incapable of becoming emotionally attached to people. I don't want her to get her hopes up, so you can hurt her.'

He swallowed, flexed his jaw and his nostrils flared as he breathed out heavily.

'I don't want you to use her for your own gain and then throw her out like she's trash.'

He looked back at Poppy, at Eleanor, ran a hand through his hair –

Liam had sat down again, slack-mouthed. Poppy simply stared. Opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out and she ended up looking just as stupid as Liam.

- and then he turned around, leaving them all behind, but mostly just walking away from her. Again.

Eleanor followed him with her eyes for as long as she could. He didn't look back, just kept walking. And it fucking hurt all over again. She was an idiot and she knew it. She didn't need him to say or do anything to be hurt by him. She was bloody good at twisting the knife in deeper herself.

He just kept walking. She was used to it.

And Poppy hadn't followed him, she just realised. She twisted around, facing the table. Liam and Poppy were both looking at her and suddenly she felt guilty. Fucking guilty towards this girl she didn't even know. This girl, this girlfriend.

And she wasn't a bad person. She wasn't this person Jasper thought she was – did he really see her like that?

'I am so sorry,' she said, 'so sorry you had to hear that.'

She grabbed one of the wine bottles from the table, evaded Liam as he made to grab her hand.

'I do like you,' she spoke quickly to Poppy. 'You seem like a nice girl and if you want to, we could hang out, just the two of us and clear up this entire mess.'

She sighed.

'I'm not really good at friendships, but I'm pretty sure we could make something work.'

She waved to both of them, Poppy and Liam, and fled back towards the palace, bottle firmly in her hand.

She needed a lot more than a bottle of wine to drown away Jasper's words.

When Poppy arrived at Jasper's later that day, he was lying in his hammock on the balcony, eyes closed, nursing a beer and a sour face. For a couple of seconds she just watched him, took in the shape of his face, his strong jaw, his generally lean build and she repressed the slight feeling of disappointment as she thought back to that night. At the birthday party she had known he had been upset when suddenly he had latched himself onto her, showing affection and a sense of cupidity she had not known he possessed. But to find he had actually been fucking the Princess – almost fucking the Princess – was something entirely different. She didn't know why exactly, but it hurt, and she wasn't happy. But she would suck it up.

She just wanted to know what the fuck happened between him and the Princess, wanted to know it all. He was still angry, though, still upset, and being the uptight son of a rock that he was, no matter how often she'd ask, he wouldn't answer unless he wanted to. She was tempted to flip the hammock, but decided against it at the last moment when he opened one eye and glared at her.

'Why, hello sunshine,' she grinned, snatching his beer from his hand.

'Took you long enough,' he grumbled and she shrugged.

'Needed to clear my mind,' she said. 'Apparently my boyfriend almost had sex with the Princess on her birthday party, which, might I add, I attended with said boyfriend.'

Jasper sighed and in one fluid motion he rolled out of the hammock, landing smoothly on his two feet.

'We're not talking about this,' he said, pushing her inside, closing the balcony door behind him.

'You're staying over?' he questioned, as she started taking off her jeans, kicking the legs off into the corner of the kitchen. She never walked around the house in pants. Said it constricted her. He wasn't complaining.

'At least clean up your shit,' he said. 'And I have a night shift, so I'll be leaving in a couple of hours.'

'That's fine by me,' she said, leaning against the window, while taking a sip of his beer. 'Sleeping over here is always better without your company.'

'But back to our previous subject,' she said. 'You know, the one where my boyfriend almost cheated on me with the Princess, who decided that throwing it out on the table during lunch with her brother, said boyfriend and the latter's new girlfriend was the right thing to do.'

'You're not my girlfriend,' he said sharply.

'But she doesn't know that,' she countered.

'Then you go bloody tell her that if you feel so bad,' he snapped.

Poppy rested her head against the window, sighing.

'I do feel bad,' she admitted.

Jasper sighed, rolled his eyes.

'You were being a good friend to me,' he replied.

'But a bad friend to her,' Poppy said.

Jasper scoffed. 'The Princess is not your friend.'

'But she wants to be.'

'Poppy,' he sighed. 'You and the Princess are not going to become friends.'

'Why not?' she countered. 'Because you say so?'

'Yes, because I say so,' he snapped, slamming his hand against the windowsill.

'Then tell me about her,' Poppy said gently. 'Explain to me why. Explain to me why talking about her makes you so angry. Explain to me what happened. Explain to me why you almost had sex with her and then eventually went home with me. Explain this shit.'

He ran a hand through his hair. Stayed quiet.

'What?' Poppy said stubbornly, one hand on her hip. 'You don't want to talk about Eleanor, because she hurt your pretty, little heart? Because, how did you put it, she threw you out like trash? Because she was incapable of bonding with you?'

She threw his own words back into his face and she was fucking pushing his buttons. Fucking pushing it.

'No, I do not to talk about Eleanor, Poppy,' he said. His voice left no room for arguments, but Poppy wouldn't be Poppy if she ever took a fucking hint.

'Why not? Because some shit used to happen between the two of you and nobody wants to tell me what the fuck is going on? I want and deserve to know,' she snapped. 'The two of you ruined a perfectly fine lunch for no reason at all and she apologised to me, which by the way you have yet to do and said she would love to hang out again because she wants to be my friend.

'So either you tell me what happened or you keep your stupid secrets and accept that I'm going to be best bloody friends with Her fucking Royal Highness Princess Eleanor. And keep your fucking dick in your pants.'

She was breathing heavily, staring him down and the reign on his anger was barely there, so close to slipping. She took a step backwards, seeing the rage simmering in his eyes, and he took a deep breathe to calm himself.

'Did you like the palace?' he asked, ignoring her last statement, completely changing the subject. He did not want to think about the Princess, did not want to talk about her and he certainly didn't want to be fighting with Poppy because of her.

Poppy immediately smiled broadly, too broadly, because she didn't want to fight either, she just wanted to know, and she worried briefly if he could see through her facade.

'Bloody baby Jesus,' she exclaimed perhaps a bit too enthusiastic. 'I belong in that palace. That garden was fucking amazing.'

She did a little twirl, coming to a stand-still against him and grinned, dragging a finger down his chest.

'Imagine having to christen that entire palace,' she murmured lowly, biting her bottom lip. His eyes darkened and she grinned, because this she could deal with. Not dark rage, but upcoming lust.

'Liam seems happy enough with that Willow-y girl, but not all hope is lost. The Crown Prince has returned from the dead and after his coronation in three months, he will need a strong woman beside. I elect myself.'

Jasper smirked, placing a soft kiss on her bare shoulder.

'Heed my words, Frost,' she declared, offering her neck to him, 'for one day I shall be your Queen and you shall worship the ground I walk upon.'

'Don't I already,' he replied, placing a feather light kiss against her throat. He put a finger beneath her chin, pulled her close by the skirt of her boxers, and lifted her head, forcing her to look him in the eye. She smirked and he pressed his lips gently against hers, trailing her lips with his tongue. He teased her, slowly, and she sighed into the kiss, parted her lips.

She was an idiot, she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself.

'You kissed the Princess like this?' she murmured into his mouth. He snarled.

Next thing he had her up against the window, kissing her hard. Her breath was cut short as he grinded his hips into hers, his arousal tangible. His hand found the hem of her shirt, slipped beneath and his hand was cold against her hot skin. He sunk his nails into her flesh and growled.

'The Princess is nothing,' he breathed, his mouth still on hers. 'You're mine and she can't have you.'

She gasped as he turned her around, pressed her face against the window and kissed the nape of her neck. Dragged a hand up her side, forced it in between her body and the glass, cupping her breast, pinching a nipple. With his other hand he lifted her longshirt, his fingers hooking into her boxers and pulling the fabric aside. He was inside her in one fluid motion and for a moment he stilled.

'She cannot have you,' he groaned. He pulled her hair roughly, kissing the side of her neck. 'She can't.'

Then he slammed into her.

Her pulled her hair again, forced her to arch her back. Took her hard and fast. Her breasts were pressed against the window and she was pretty sure his neighbours could see her – the fucking neighbours could see her! – but when his fingers found her clit and started to rub – bloody hell, the shit he was making her feel – she stopped caring. She came hard and she could've sworn she saw some kid peeping at them from the window across the street.

He took her twice more before she left and she didn't complain, and even though she didn't ask and he didn't say, they both knew it was because of her.

She had brunch with the Princess at the Balcon three days later and though at first it had been a rather uncomfortable affair, they had decided Jasper was to be a topic unmentioned. They had their love of white wine in common, drug-related stories to share and while Eleanor liked fashion and architecture and Poppy was into photography and food, they found the four complemented each other and the day after they made the short drive over to Banbury, in search of Banbury cakes and architectural delights.

Poppy put off telling Jasper, decided she would wait a little. And while she put off telling him, she and Eleanor had lunch twice, dinner once and there might've been a visit to the London Zoo, which had been cut short when the paps had shown up.

The invitation to the palace came about two weeks after, when Poppy was running an errand at work. She had left her phone on her desk and Jasper couldn't help but to glance over. It was just a simple text, come over tonight, 19.00, and Poppy hadn't saved the number, but he knew it was from the Princess. He knew. He pretended to not have read the message when Poppy returned to her desk and she never told him about it.

He guessed they both had some secrets. Ironically enough the Princess was involved in all of them.

It was a bit after seven when Poppy arrived at the palace. Baker escorted her to the Princess' room. She asked him to make a detour, wanting to enjoy the beauty of the palace. He, of course, refused.

'Bloody git,' she muttered as she entered Eleanor's bedroom. The Princess was seated on her sofa, a bottle of vodka in her left hand and a cigarette in her right.

'Started the party without you,' she said, 'and yeah, Hagrid's a bit of an ass. But I prefer him to other bodyguards.'

'I'm sure you do,' Poppy said, letting herself fall onto the bed. Eleanor made a waving motion with her hand, indicating the bottle of whisky on the night stand.

'That's yours,' she said. 'I remembered you said you didn't like vodka.'

'Appreciate it,' Poppy smiled, as she started to pour herself a glass.

'So,' she said. 'What is your plan for tonight?'

Eleanor shrugged. 'Drink, talk, get shitfaced, dance, have fun, in this particular order.'

Poppy smirked.

'Talk, huh?'

Eleanor nodded, a similar smirk on her face.

'Yes,' she said, 'talk too. But first we need to drink.'

She held up her bottle and Poppy clinked her glass against it. She followed the Princess' example as she chugged the glass in one swing and she immediately refilled it. She couldn't fall behind on the Princess.

'I had dress fittings today,' Eleanor started. 'For the coronation.'

She took a swig.

'Robbie and Liam laughed at me because I looked ridiculous in every fucking gown the Queen Cunt made me wear,' she complained, 'and of course Mum was a complete bitch about everything, as to be expected.'

Another gulp.

'I got chewed out at work for something that wasn't even my fault,' Poppy countered, 'and I lost my keys so I had wait almost an hour in the rain for the locksmith because Frost refused to bring over my spare.'

She downed her second glass of whisky and Eleanor hid her surprise in a sip of her own. So what if Jasper had a spare key. She didn't care.

'It seems we both had shitty days,' she smiled.

'I'll drink to that,' Poppy agreed.

'To bad days and this,' Eleanor said, her glass raised. 'Hear, hear.'

Poppy had been thinking about that, about this. Thinking about the Princess and her ex-bodyguard, because that was what she considered this. Jasper had been extra distant the past days, ever since their lunch with the Royal Twins. Or maybe it had been her that had been distant. She had been spending an awful lot of time with the Princess. Either way, there was no sense prolonging the inevitable. The only reason they were hanging out in the first place, was because the Princess wanted to know about her and Jasper and Poppy wanted to know about the Jasper and her. They wanted the same. They were just both too proud to ask first.

'So,' Poppy began. 'What's the deal with you and Frost?'

Eleanor had expected the question, had been expecting that question for the past couple of days, for two weeks already, but still she was taken aback.

'Excuse me?' she said, cocking an eyebrow at Poppy. 'What are you talking about?'

She innocently took a small sip from the bottle, eyeing Poppy all the while. The girl stared right back at her, unimpressed.

'What?' Eleanor shrugged. 'I really don't know what you mean.'

'You and Frost,' Poppy said, waving her hand around impatiently. 'Don't play me for a fool, Eleanor.

'You and Jasper Frost. What was the deal?'

'How is that any of your business, girlfriend of Jasper Frost?' Eleanor replied.

'You tell me, ex-girlfriend of Jasper Frost,' Poppy countered.

Eleanor sagged, sighed and shook her head.

'It wasn't a relationship,' she said, sounding almost regretful. She sank further into the soft pillows laying on the sofa.

'Then what was it?' Poppy pressed.

'With all due respect,' Eleanor said, taking a swig from the vodka bottle, 'but I don't know you well enough to discuss my personal life with you. Certainly not when it involves your boyfriend.'

'If you are serious about this friendship thing,' Poppy said, 'you'll have to open up to me someday. Why not now? Besides, why else did you invite me?'

You've got to trust somebody sometime.

Eleanor chuckled humourlessly as the memory came to her.

'Maybe,' she said musingly. 'But I am not doing this sober.'

'I'm pretty certain we're both not sober,' Poppy said. She pointedly looked at the bottle of vodka in Eleanor's hand and held up her own almost empty glass of whisky.

'I am not talking about that kind of sober,' Eleanor said. She got up from the sofa and walked towards her armoire. Hill had organised all her drugs after she had cleaned up her act and even though most had been flushed through the toilet, she still had some left.

Purely for recreational use of course. Or when nosy girlfriends of ex-bodyguards wanted to have heart-to-hearts.

She rummaged around for a bit before she triumphantly held up a small white envelope.

'Just what I was looking for,' she smirked. Poppy arched an eyebrow, shook her head.

Eleanor started chopping the coke on an old CD-case, expertly cutting it as thin as possible, shaping it into three straight lines, each about ten centimetre long. Intrigued, Poppy watched her. She had heard about the Princess' drug affinity – who hadn't? – but seeing her in action was something entirely different. There hadn't been any drugged up party pictures in the tabloids since Robbie's return, but clearly she hadn't completely kicked her habit.

'Eleanor,' she started, but the Princess cut her off.

'Poppy,' she said. 'Dear Poppy.'

She slid the CD-case over to her.

'Relax,' the Princess grinned. 'It's just one line.'

Poppy looked sceptical and Eleanor crossed her arms.

'You said you wanted to talk, right,' she said. 'Well, this is how I talk.'

She leaned over, held one nostril closed with a finger. Chasing one line with a straw, she sucked in through it and after, she inhaled sharply a few times. She repeated this with the second line and immediately felt the drip. She basked in it, sighed content with the numbness in her mouth, even though it tasted horrible.

She grinned at Poppy, bared all her teeth and for a moment she resembled a predator, eyeing its prey.

'Your turn,' she sang sweetly.

Poppy hesitated, but only for a second. She told herself for Frost as she snorted the remaining line of coke.