Shaking my head, I lean forward, resting my hands on my knees. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“Like I said, he’s miserable. He’s putting on a brave face, but I see it. It might be one thing if it was just the crown, but it isn’t. He’s going to be king, which means his first priority will be to find a queen. In other words, he’s going to have to get hitched, and soon.”
I narrow my eyes, “And?”
“And there are rules about who he can marry. The most likely candidate is a woman who, not only do I personally despise, but who would very likely make Aiden’s life miserable. But list of eligible ladies is painfully short. If I know Aiden—and I do—he’ll do what he feels is right for his country, his own needs be damned.”
I can’t help but remember what Aiden had told me about his own parents’ marriage. The thought of him in a similar situation breaks my heart.
“He deserves better,” I mutter. “He deserves to be happy.”
“I agree. Which is where you come in,” he says, splaying his hands toward me.
Standing, I round the sofa, “Oh no. You can’t possibly be considering what I think you’re considering.”
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he opens it and hands it to me. There, the frozen image of Aiden and me smiling at the top of the Wonder Wheel stares back at me.
“I’ve known Aiden for as long as I can remember. I’ve never—in all that time—seen him as happy as he is in that moment.” His tone is serious as he points to the photo. “Whatever else you may be, you’re good for him. In ways you probably don’t even know.”
I stare at the image for a long time, immediately able to once again feel the warmth of his body, the smell of his cologne. It hits me like a crashing wave, threatening to take me to my knees.
“Does he know you’re here?” I ask, reluctantly handing him back the phone.
“No,” he says, pocketing it. “I didn’t want to tell him in case…”
“In case I refused.”
“In case you didn’t care,” he clarifies. “But if I thought that, I wouldn’t be here.”
Wrapping my arms around my waist, I hug myself. How could this actually be happening? How long had I dreamed that Aiden would show up at my door and sweep me into his arms again? And now, all this, it was almost too good to be true.
“I’m just a waitress,” I say flatly. “Waitresses don’t marry princes, no matter what the storybooks might say. It just doesn’t happen.”
“True enough, and I’m pretty sure his mother is rolling over in her grave as we speak. You’re far from the ideal candidate, hell, you’re not even technically eligible for him to choose if he wanted to. But I think I can fix that.”
“How?”
He stands, holding out one hand. “Do you trust me?”
“This is insane.”
“That’s not what I asked,” he says, shaking his head. “Do. You. Trust. Me?
I hesitate for only a moment before laying my hand in his.
“I do.”
Leaving on A Jet Plane
Six hours later we’re making our way onto a small private jet at JFK. I’ve managed to stuff a month’s worth of clothes into one oversize suitcase and one ratty denim backpack. Liam waves for me to go ahead and I climb the narrow stairs, ducking into the cabin.
“There she is,” Tommy says, folding a newspaper across his lap. He’s wearing black slacks and a tan shirt, his shiny loafers—minus socks—exposing bare ankles. He stands, opening his arms for a hug. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder I opt for a handshake instead.
“I told you she’d come,” he says to Liam, who stands behind me.
“May I?” Liam asks, taking my bag and passing it off to a steward in a black vest with a white bow tie.
Behind Tommy, a brown-haired woman leans into the aisle, eyeing me from head to toe.
“You must be Haven”, she says, standing and offering me a hand which I shake. “I’m Sarah Norwood. Tommy’s sister.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah,” I offer.
“You’re quite pretty,” she says. “Is your hair naturally red?”
I reach up to touch it on reflex. “Oh, thanks. Um, yeah it is.”
“Excellent,” she says, waving for me to take a seat. “Has Liam explained everything?”
Sitting, I cross my legs, “Mostly, I think.”
She grins, motioning toward the steward. “Would you like a drink before we take off?”
“Just water, thank you.”
“Well, in a nutshell, we’ve decided to offer you up as a potential candidate to be Aiden’s queen,” Tommy begins, his voice enthusiastic. “Anyone has to be better than that bitch Genevieve.”
“Genevieve St. Lauraunt is a duchess from one of the oldest families on the island. Her family came during the British occupation and made their fortunes first in the pearl trade, and later branched out into buying and selling internet domains. She is one of the few women who possess the required qualifications to marry Aiden. She’s the right age, she knows the right people, and she has a title.”
“Well, of those three criteria, I only fit one.” The steward hands me a bottle of water wrapped in a white napkin and I thank him.
“That’s where we come in,” Tommy says, taking a seat beside his sister. “We know the right people too—hell, we are the right people.”
“And, according to law, any person owning at least 100 acres of land on the island is eligible for a title and a seat on the council,” Sarah slips her hand into an attaché next to her seat, withdrawing a manila folder full of papers.
“It’s really rare for any of the landowners to sell off or divide their lands—a very limited commodity,” Tommy explains. “And to keep from splitting it between descendants, they keep their lands in a house trust. Any monies from leasing or farming the lands go into the trusts and are divided among the living house members. Each house has one seat on the council, but any members of that house are able to attend the meetings and have a voice in the general rulings. The King can introduce new laws or regulations, but everything has to be approved by simple majority. The only time the king gets a vote is in the event of a tie.”
“This is the deed to 100 acres of land in the middle region of the island. It’s mostly useless land, mountainous and only good for growing tea, but it’s enough to get you a title of your own.”
She hands me the papers and I glance over them.
“A hundred acres?”
“Of course, should you choose not to remain on the island, the deed would revert back to me, the original purchaser. Once the division is approved, the land will constitute a Duchy, of which you will be the Duchess. There are a few things we need to do to make it all legitimate, but it’s fairly minor. All you have to do is sign.”
“Wait, you’re talking about giving me 100 acres of land?” I swallow. “That’s… a lot to take in. Before we jump into all this, shouldn’t we make sure Aiden even wants me here? I mean, we spent one day together two months ago. He’s probably already forgotten all about me.”
From the seat in front of me Liam snorts.
“Of course,” Sarah says. “The coronation is tomorrow. Following that will be the Coronation Ball. Our plan is to re-connect the two of you there.”
“Ball?” I ask. “Like, a dance?”
Sarah nods. “We’ll provide a gown for you, of course. Unless you have something suitable?”
I shake my head. “This may be a bad time to mention this, but I can’t dance. I don’t know how.”
Sarah exchanges a glance with Liam who shrugs.
She continues, “Don’t worry, Liam will teach you once we arrive. Our family estate is not far from the palace, but we all have rooms on site for the events of the next few days. You’ll be attending the Ball as Liam’s date.”
“Why as Liam’s date?” Tommy pouts.
She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose with two fingers.
“Because,” Liam chim
es in. “No one will bat an eyelash if I show up with some stranger. If you—or any of the other nobles--bring her, she’ll be under the microscope of the entire court and the media before she can even blink.” Liam winks at me, “Perks of being a commoner.”
“Aiden isn’t gonna know what hit him,” Tommy says.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I mutter.
I manage to sleep for most of the flight, restless fits of nightmares punctuated by the occasional overheard conversation.
“You’re sure about this?” Sarah whispers.
“You didn’t see them together. He’s completely head over heels for this girl,” Liam responds.
A brief silence.
“What if it doesn’t work out?” she asks. “Maybe we shouldn’t be meddling.”
“Look, worst case scenario, they spend some time together and realize the whole thing was just a romantic fling and he’s finally able to get over her. Best case, they make it work and Aiden gets a wife he loves instead of a child eating hell beast.”
“Genevieve isn’t that bad,” she says.
They both chuckle and Sarah relents. “Ok, she really is.”
“I think you’re forgetting one possible outcome here,” she adds after a moment. “What if she can’t handle it? What if she breaks his heart?”
Liam doesn’t hesitate, “She won’t. She loves him. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t.”
Rolling over in my seat, I curl my knees up, shivering lightly.
It should probably bother me that these people—these strangers—were talking about my future as if I wasn’t in it, but it doesn’t. Because at the end of the day, Liam is right. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t in love with Aiden. And if he doesn’t feel the same, or if does turn out to be some romanticized fantasy that doesn’t hold up to teal life—then at least I’ll know. At least I’ll have tried.
I feel something touching me and I jerk, my eyes flying open. Above me Liam stands, draping a warm blanket over my legs.
“You looked cold,” he offers with a soft shrug. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
I pull the blanket up under my chin. “Thanks, Liam.”
With a nod he returns to his seat, letting his own eyes fall closed.
“Hey Liam,” I whisper.
He turns his head, looking back at me. “Yeah?”
I point to my cheek. “That scar under your eye. How did you get that?”
He grins. “Golfing.”
“Golfing?” I ask.
“When Aiden and I were kids, he decided to try to teach me how to golf. I got too close in his back swing and took a driver to the eye. Broke my nose and cut my cheek wide open. Aiden panicked. He ran all the way back to the palace to get help. He felt so bad we waited on me hand and foot for weeks.”
I can’t hide my grin. “I’m sure you didn’t take advantage of that at all.”
He makes a little bit gesture with his fingers.
“Get some rest, Haven. We’ll be there soon. If the jet lag doesn’t get you, the humidity will.”
“Consider me warned,” I say, letting my eyes fall closed again.
The next thing I hear is Liam calling my name.
“Hey, Haven. We’re here.”
Tossing the blanket aside, I stretch, rising from my seat.
Sarah hands me a pair of dark sunglasses from her purse. “You’re gonna need these.”
“Paparazzi?” I ask.
She chuckles, “No. Sun. Bright.”
She isn’t kidding. The moment I step out of the plane I’m assaulted with a glow so bright it feels like I’m actually stepping onto the surface of the sun. It takes my eyes a few moments to adjust before I trust myself to descent the stairs. There’s a black town car waiting, but I don’t get in right away. Pulling the glasses off, I take in the scene around me.
The airport is small, with no windows or doors, just open halls and canvas tent like roofs. The humidity is bad, but not unbearable, the air warm and slightly sticky. In the distance, mountains draped in green.
“It’s stunning,” I say.
“These mountains divide the whole island, east and west,” he continues. “The ancient people believed it was the ridge back of an extinct sea god.”
“And what do you think?” I ask.
He winks, “I think it’s something you have to see to believe. Come on, your King awaits.”
We load up the car and head toward the palace.
Fit For A King
I stare out the window as the car careens along a narrow-paved road following the coast.
“The island is just shy of five hundred square miles--most of that is owned by the crown and leased to individuals. The population sits at just over 100,000 people and was originally settled by seafaring Polynesians around 800 AD. They still represent about 50% of the island's population, with the rest made up of Europeans, Japanese people, and those of mixed heritage. It was annexed by England in the early seventeen hundreds—they were fighting with the French for territories in the region at the time—but we were able to regain our sovereignty in 1890. In 1899, the monarchy was re-established, and rules to this day,” Sarah tells me.
“I feel like I should be taking notes,” I say, still watching the view.
“There’s a lot you’ll need to learn, a lot you’ll have to know, if you remain in any sort of official capacity,” she says. “But there’s time. The main thing you need to know first is this. Besides the King, the ruling council is made of six houses—the six major land owners on the island. Most are European in descent; the only exception being House Neuygen. They come from a long line of Japanese royalty and won most of the land to the north of the island. Their representative, Duke Lee, is in his late forties and has a penchant for young ladies, expensive wine, and for American baseball. If you can win him to your side, he’d make a powerful ally.”
“The others you’ll get to meet. They’re mostly amiable, with the exception of Duke Rathborne. His family has land to the south west and has been vying to build a bunch of upscale condos. The others on the council are reluctant, fearing it will disturb the few farming and export industries we have.”
“And let me guess, he doesn’t like being told no?’
She nods, “Aiden has made his feelings about it known, but no doubt whomever Aiden chooses as his queen will be subject to intense pressure from Rathborne to try to gain influence over a young king.”
“Short story, he’s a dick,” Liam says flatly.
“Awesome,” I say, sitting back into my seat. “Anything else I need to know?”
Sarah offers me a sympathetic smile. “In time. For now, do you need anything?”
“I’d kill for a cheeseburger,” I admit. I hadn’t eaten on the flight, afraid my nervous stomach would betray me, but now it’s late and I’m starving.
Liam reaches behind him, tapping the drive on the shoulder, then winks at me. “I know just the place.”
After a few more minutes of driving, and a few more history lessons, we pull up next to a humble looking road side shack. Beside the bamboo cart is a massive grill. The moment we open the car door, my mouth waters.
“The Onah-Napor version of street food,” Liam says, leading me toward the stand.
He quickly mutters something in a language I don’t recognize but sounds like some version of Chinese. I blink at him and he flushes.
“Ah, It’s Narohi, the native language. English is the official language, of course, but some of the islanders still speak the old language.”
“It’s beautiful. Will you teach me?”
Looking away ne nods, “Sure. Sometime.”
“Well, how do you say thank you?”
He tells me and I practice it a few times, my clumsy tongue tripping over the sounds until he finally gives me a nod of approval.
The cook hands me my burger half wrapped in newsprint. I accept it with what I hope is a thank you. He nods, clearly pleased at my attempt.
I take a bite and juic
es explode in my mouth. “Is that pineapple? In the meat?” I ask around my bite.
“They put pineapple in everything here. You’ll get used to it,” Liam assures me.
“It’s amazing,” I admit.
“Better than New York?”
I hold up a hand, “Don’t get crazy, now.”
He chuckles and dives back into his own burger.
“Is it cow?” I ask, teasing.
He wags his head back and forth. “Maybe? Out here, could be goat.”
Pausing mid chew, I look down at the burger.
Goat. Huh.
“You alright?” he asks.
I dive into another bite, crossing my eyes at him as I do.
He laughs so hard he starts coughing.
“Oh, you’re gonna be fun at state dinners, I can just tell.”
Finishing my goat burger in record time, we set off again. This time we don’t stop until the car pulls up to a set of tall iron gates blocking a long drive. After a moment, they swing open and we drive through.
The palace isn’t huge, but it’s easy to spot the European influence in the architecture. With marble columns that rise three stories before curling into delicate scrolls. The palace is cut in a baroque style. Tall spires stretch skyward and narrow windows with iron parapets jutting forward. In the center of the face, above the top floor, an ornate tower rises, a white stone crest in the center flanked by two hanging banners. Carved gargoyles line the ridge, looking down at us as we drive forward and round the fountain at the center of the grounds.
I suck in a sharp breath.
It’s then that I feel Liam’s warm hand cover mine. When I look up at him, his eyes are intense—his gaze unwavering in a way that immediately boosts my confidence.
“Relax, Haven. You’ve got this.”
I nod, not trusting my voice as we step out of the car.
Staring up at the windows, I can’t help but wonder where Aiden is. Could he be just behind one of those thin panes of glass? Could he be watching me, even now. I can almost feel him, a ghost on the edge of my thoughts. Close by, but still unseen.
Liam offers me his arm and I take it, letting him lead me up the stone steps and into the massive foyer. The floor inside is checkered green and black squares, the same green stone in pillars holding the archways leading off in various directions. There are two white sculptures flanking the entrance, one a general of some kind, another a king holding a palm frond in one hand and a sword in the other. The palace is buzzing with staff and as we approach, a tall man in a dark suit stops us.
Once Upon A New York Minute: Part 1 Page 5