Once Upon A New York Minute: Part 1

by Sherry Ficklin

  The sound of sirens rings out in the distance and I rock back on my feet, looking up at Liam who is stating down at me with wide eyes. I follow his gaze, realizing I’m covered in blood to my elbows, its splattered across my shirt and pants.

  I blink up at him and shrug. Spinning on one heel he races to the bar and lowers his head into the garbage, retching.

  Beside me Sarah rolls her eyes. “We’re lucky he didn’t faint, actually.”

  As soon as the words escape her mouth, we hear a loud thud and look up to see Tommy unconscious, crumpled on the floor beside Delia.

  I laugh, knowing I shouldn’t, but unable to stop myself. The adrenaline has begun to fade, and my arms feel heavy as I wash myself the best I can in the water bowl.

  Paramedics arrive in time to handle the last bits of the delivery before loading Delia and baby into the back of the truck. They also manage to rouse Tommy, giving him a wool blanket and a cup of water as he sits on the edge of the table far from the delivery area.

  “Thank you, Haven,” she says weakly.

  “Anytime,” I offer.

  She grins, clutching the now sleeping babe, and they close the doors. We watch them drive away. Liam comes up to my side, waving as they pull away.

  “You ok, there captain vomit?”

  He snorts, “That was…disgusting.”

  I shake my head, “That was amazing, are you kidding?”

  “Wait, seriously?”

  I shrug, “I mean, ok, kinda gross, but did you see that tiny human? She grew that, inside her. Can you even imagine growing a whole person? It’s a miracle.”

  When I look at him, he’s grinning. “I suppose when you put it that way. I guess I never realized how insignificant the male contribution to life really is. It’s just kinda,” he makes a popping gesture with his hands and I laugh.

  “Yep, when we figure out how to reproduce asexually, you guys are screwed,” I tease. “Guess you’ll have to figure out other ways to make yourselves indispensable.”

  “You mean like driving you back to the palace so you can get cleaned up before dinner?”

  “Ugh,” I lay my hand on my blood-soaked shirt. “I’m starving. We never got lunch.”

  Liam goes green again, and I chuckle.

  He waves me off, “Lets just get back to the palace. Then I can decide if I’ll ever eat again.”

  We’re nearly back at the palace when Tommy hands me his phone. Apparently one of the paramedics told the story of the delivery to a friend, who called the media and they swarmed the hospital to see if it was true. Delia’s husband is giving a brief statement outside her door.

  “Yes, Lady haven came in for a late lunch, as she does often, and when my wife went into labor, she just rolled up her sleeves and delivered my son—and she sang the whole time. He and his mama are doing fine, just resting.”

  “Great,” I mutter. “Now they’ll be bugging Delia for weeks to get the whole story.”

  Sarah shrugs, “It’s good press, don’t complain.”

  “Considering yesterday they wanted to crucify me on the five o’clock news, I feel like if anyone gets to complain, it’s me.”

  Liam snorts from the front seat. “She’s right. You were heroic today, so let them make you a hero if it suits them.”

  I shake my head, lowering my voice to Sarah, “Is this how it’s going to be now? The press jumping on my every move?”

  She nods, “It is. For better or worse, that’s part of what you have to deal with being queen. Everything you do will be picked apart, sometimes you’ll come out on top, other times, they’ll roast you. That’s why it’s so important to stay on their good side. Give them positive news so they don’t go making up negative news.”

  As if on cue, we round the drive to the palace and see a swarm of photographers waiting out front.

  I scratch my head. “I really don’t want them photographing me like this,” I say, motioning to my clothes.

  “We’ll go in through the garage, they can’t get in there. Then you can change and either go talk to them or issue a written statement,” Liam says, pulling around.

  As promised, the garage is free of media, only a few guards milling around. They immediately lead us inside where I nearly run into Aiden. He holds out his hands, but I take a step back, gesturing to my ruined clothes.

  “Oh, I’d hug you right now but I don’t want to ruin your suit,” I say.

  His mouth falls open, his eyes darting from me to the others, then back.

  “Are you alright?”

  I make fists, bringing them to my chest. “I got to scratch two things off my bucket list today. I got to drive a race car and I delivered a baby. A real baby, Aiden. He was so beautiful.” I fan myself, “I mean wow. Today was just wow.”

  “You…delivered a baby?” His expression morphs from concern to delight as his glance shifts to Liam.

  “Delia’s newest,” he explains. “She went into labor at the Ooola. Haven swooped in and made the catch.”

  Aiden beams, “I wish I could have been there to see it.”

  He offers me his arm and I take it carefully, “Aiden, his eyes were so blue. I didn’t know eyes came that blue. And his hands were so tiny.”

  “I’m gonna go get cleaned up myself,” Liam says.

  “Liam threw up. Like a lot,” I whisper, but he hears me anyway.

  “Thanks for tossing me under the bus there, Haven. At least I didn’t faint like some people.”

  Tommy brings a hand to his chest, “I was overwhelmed with emotion.”

  Sarah snickers. “Haven handled it like a champ. She was all, boil water and give me your shoelaces. Just like in a movie.”

  I hold up a hand, “Um, no. There was way more blood and stuff than in movies. And the smell was…”

  Liam holds up a hand, “Please don’t.”

  “And we all need showers, stat,” I order.

  “We’ll see you both at dinner?” Sarah asks.

  “Of course, see you then,” Aiden says, continuing to walk me to my room.

  “And the racing was, I mean completely epic. Have you ever been behind the wheel of one of those cars?”

  He grins, “I have in fact, though it was a few years ago. I’m afraid my father put an end to my race career very early. Being the only heir to the throne has its disadvantages.”

  I frown, “That’s a shame. I can totally see you as a jet set play-boy racer with a woman on each arm, touring from city to city.”

  He chuckles, “Well, as interesting as that sounds, it’s only appealing to me if you are the woman on my arm—in every city.”

  I turn, releasing him at my door, “Flattery will not get you into my shower, Your Majesty.”

  He balks, “I wasn’t…I—”

  I cut him off, “Joking. But I wouldn’t mind a little help washing my back.”

  The adrenaline rush from early returns as if it never left, and my blood hums with the need for release. I make a display of pulling my shirt over my head so I’m standing in just my jeans and bra. “What do you say? Does the king have twenty minutes to spare?”

  He pushes me further into the room, slamming the door behind him as he strips off his shirt, “Oh, if you think we’re only going to need twenty minutes, you’re wildly underestimating me.”

  I laugh and he drops his pants, rushing forward and lifting me into his arms.

  Trouble in Paradise

  Cancelling the formal dinner, Aiden orders food to my room and we spend the remainder of the day lounging in bed. Wrapped in the warmth of his arms, I sigh, a contentment rolling through me like a lazy house cat. My hair is still damp form the shower and Aiden trails his fingertips across my exposed back, following the droplets of water and making me shiver.

  “Haven,” he whispers softly. “I know I should go but…would it be alright if I stayed here tonight?”

  Grinning, I roll on top of him. “I mean, I guess I could live with that.”

  He tucks a lose strand of hair behind
my ear, “No matter how much time I have with you, its never enough. I always just want one moment longer.”

  “You know, I thought of you today. I had this vision, of us—our future. Starting a family with you, how it would be.”

  “And what did it look like?” he asks.

  I kiss him gently. “It was so beautiful.”

  He grins behind my lips, “Any future with you is beautiful.”

  “You say that now,” I tease. “You’ll be singing a different tune when I’m the size of a truck, waddling around the palace eating crackers and snapping at everyone.”

  “Honestly? I can hardly wait.”

  Laying against him, I rest my head in the crook of his neck. “Do you think I’ll be a good mom? I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood.”

  He snorts, “And I did? For what it’s worth I think you’ll be a phenomenal mother. How could you not? You have so much love to give, and so much strength to share. Our children will be very fortunate indeed.”

  “It’s strange to think about the future, isn’t it? Everything has happened so fast, but I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life. And then I thought I’d lost you, only to find you again,” I trail off.

  “I know what you mean, it is sudden, but strong. You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?”

  I look up, resting my chin on his chest, “About you? Never.”

  “If you ever do, you must promise to tell me. If you should ever decide that you don’t want this life, you must be honest with me. I would never want you to feel trapped or like you don’t have a choice in things.”

  I kiss his chest, continuing a trail of soft kisses down his stomach. He shivers beneath me and I grin up at him. “Do I strike you as someone who doesn’t know exactly what she wants?”

  His eyes meet mine, dark and desperate.

  “I would never want to stand between you and what you desire,” he offers breathlessly.

  When I lower my head again, he moans my name.

  ***

  The next morning, I wake to an empty bed and a note.

  Haven,

  You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t have the heart to wake you. The council has signed the approval of our marriage, and I have a few things to tend to this morning. If you would meet me in the throne room before lunch, I have a surprise for you.

  Yours,

  Aiden

  Clutching the note, I make my way to the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. Opening my door I run into Tommy, who is holding a clip board full of papers.

  “Good, you’re up,” he says cheerfully.

  “Yeah, sorry about missing dinner last night,” I offer, blushing.

  He waves me off, “I understand. But I do have a few things we need to tackle today. Sarah gave me a list, in fact.”

  He holds up the clipboard. “Wanna do it over breakfast?”

  “Coffee, then papers,” I say with a nod.

  Together we make our way to the dining room where Liam is already digging into a plate of eggs and toast.

  “You just Missed Aiden,” he says in a curt tone.

  “I’ll see him later,” I say taking a seat across from him. “Is everything alright?”

  He makes a face, “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Narrowing my eyes, I stare at him. Ignoring me, he continues scraping eggs onto this toast and munching away.

  “Here, Coffee,” Tommy says, sitting beside me with a cup of his own. He motions for the cook who stands in the corner of the room, “Can you get us a few plates please?”

  Nodding, the man scurries off to the kitchen.

  “First on the agenda, your new assistant,” he begins. “We’ve put up three potential ladies as candidates, though technically it doesn’t have to be a female. The official title is Lady of the Chamber or Lord of the Chamber. Their job is to act as your go-between to the other offices in the household, like a private secretary.”

  “And who are the lucky candidates?” I ask in my best game show host voice.

  He slides his tablet my direction. I pull open the first file, “Lady Clair Dunmore, House Neuygen.”

  Looking over her resume, I whistle. “Does she really speak seven languages?”

  “Yep, and she knows everyone—in the court and beyond it. She even dated a certain red-haired monarch that shall remain nameless.”

  “I whistle. She’s overqualified to be a glorified PA,” I say, scrolling to the next. “Lady Rachell Darcey. As in Lord Darcey?”

  “Same, she’s his niece. Young, but eager to learn and she is quite media savvy.”

  “Which brings us to Lady Constance Rathborne. Ugh,” I say, “Really?”

  He raises a hand, “Dislike of her father aside, Constance is clever and generally well liked. She’d have been a candidate for queen except that a few years ago she developed a rare form of cancer that left her physically disabled. She’s much better now, though she still walks with a pronounced limp.”

  “Law student, until she got sick, specializes in finance and land trust, fluent in three languages, and something of a rising social media star,” I read. “But is she trustworthy?”

  “Why don’t you meet her and decide for yourself?” Liam suggests.

  “Yeah, that’s a given. Tommy, can you arrange it?”

  “Sure, and that takes us to our next item on the list. You have a meeting tomorrow with the Keeper of the Purse, the royal money man.”

  “What about?”

  “Becoming queen comes with some financial advantages, he’ll walk you through it all. But you will want to meet with your personal finance advisor first, maybe even take him with you.”

  “My personal finance advisor?”

  He nods, sliding a business card my direction. “Grant Ressick. He’s a genius accountant and he can meet with you today. His number is on there, just give him a call to set up a time and he’ll come to you. Sarah already gave him all the books on your new estate.”

  “Great,” I say, taking the card. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, first thing today, I’m supposed to take you to the royal dressmaker to be fitted.”

  “Fitted for what?”

  He shrugs, “Everything. They’ll take all your measurements and keep them on file. So if you should ever need attire for formal functions, they can put something together for you without you having to come in every time.”

  “So more new clothes?”

  “Not a full wardrobe, you still keep all your casual stuff, but yes. Once you’re queen, they will make anything you don’t want to have made somewhere else. You don’t have to use them, of course, but they are at your disposal and paid for by the crown.”

  I make a face at Liam, “Well today sounds like buckets of fun.”

  With a grimace, Liam stands to leave, “And on that depressing note, I’ll leave you to it. See you around, Haven.”

  I open my mouth to ask him to stay, to hang with me as I go about my day, but my mouth clamps shut on the words. I’m sure he has better things to do than to hold my hand through a bunch of boring meetings—nice as it would be to have him there.

  “Alright, Tommy. I’m all yours.”

  ***

  The dressmaker’s boutique is outside the palace in the main square. A cozy, warm place with softly glowing chandeliers, walls of mirrors, and comfy lounge chairs.

  The tailor and her two assistants take me to the back, stripping me to my undergarments, and draping me in a soft satin shift before beginning their work. I’ve never felt so uncomfortably like a barbie doll, being bent this way and that, measured and remeasured until they have specs on every inch of me. Then they take photos, hair color, eye color, skin tone.

  “Do you know what you’ll be wearing for the engagement photos, Your Grace?” one of the assistants asks, draping a tape measure over her shoulders like a scarf.

  “Um…no,” I admit. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead, actually.”

  She smiles wryly, “You’ll want something for
the photos, and another for the engagement party, and probably something else for the sitting—not to mention the actual wedding dress.”

  “The sitting?”

  “It’s tradition to officially crown the queen in an event called the sitting. It’s a coronation of sorts, though less formal than the kings, and it takes place in the palace itself.”

  “Right,” I say, taking mental notes to interview those assistants sooner rather than later.

  After finishing at the boutique, we return to the palace to meet with Grant. Tommy waits in the lobby, flirting with the bubbly, yellow haired receptionist as I go inside.

  Grant’s younger than I expect, with dark hair and eyes like Aiden’s, but he’s a bit shorter, a bit thinner, and wears a pair of black frame glasses. He clever though, and he walks me through all the income from the property, the annual taxes, and the wages we pay the ranchers. He also has a breakdown of my new house and the staff I need to operate it. All said and done, my monthly income is still startlingly high.

  “I think,” I begin, “That we can give a wage increase to the ranchers and still have plenty to cover all my expenses and then some.”

  “Yes, though I might offer a thought on that for you to consider,” he offers, splaying his hands.

  “Of course,” I say, sitting back.

  “The wage is, as it stands, still above average for the other farms in the area. If you increase wages beyond that, other farmers will leave to come work for you, most likely leaving other ranches shorthanded. It could be seen as a political maneuver, to sabotage the ranches of other Houses.”

  I fold my hands on the desk between us. “But the profits from my ranch are also higher than average, doesn’t it stand that the workers should be rewarded for a job well done?”

  He nods, “Of course, it is your decision.”

  Sitting back, I try to come up with a compromise. “But you’re right, I don’t want to upset the other Houses or drive other ranches out of business. What about this, instead of a flat wage increase we offer them a bonus, based on the performance of the ranch overall? Every year we exceed projected earnings, they get a cut of that income?”