Surprise Packages

by Layla Valentine

  He raises his eyebrows. “What makes you ask that?”

  “My friend Melissa thinks she saw your face in the papers when she was in Italy.”

  He lowers his eyes. “She’s correct. You’ll have to congratulate her. Most people don’t recognize me when they see me. I’m used to traveling fairly unnoticed in this part of the world.”

  I’m boggled.

  “It’s true? You’re really a prince?”

  He takes a long sip of his drink. “Is it a problem for you?” he asks. “I mean…if we’re going to continue our evening together. Which I would like to.”

  I have to admit, I’m charmed. He seems so flustered, not taking my interest for granted at all. Still, I can’t let him off scot-free here.

  “I can’t believe you’re a prince and you weren’t going to say anything to me about it,” I say, shaking my head in mock disappointment.

  “But…I did say something,” he counters.

  “What? No, you didn’t!” I’m trying to be flirty and figure this guy out at the same time.

  “The very first thing I said to you,” he protests. “I introduced myself as Prince Alessandro, remember?”

  My cheeks flush as the memory comes flooding back. “You told me that was just a joke, though.”

  “I suppose I did do that,” he admits easily. “You didn’t seem very receptive to hearing I was a prince. And in a way, I was joking. Being a prince of Avaran isn’t quite the same as being a princess on Royal Blue.”

  “Right,” I say hotly. “Because one of them is real.”

  “No, no, that’s not what I mean,” he says. “Avaran is a small nation, one very few people are familiar with, and that means I can move through the world without the kind of attention that’s focused on you. I imagine it’s much more difficult to be in the position you’re in, where you’re recognized everywhere you go.”

  “That is hard,” I admit. “And…well, this is embarrassing, but you’re right to say people don’t know much about Avaran. I couldn’t really tell you much about it at all.”

  “You’re not alone,” he assures me.

  “I feel bad,” I say. “I’ve been talking about myself all evening, and I haven’t made any effort to learn more about you or where you’re from.”

  Our glasses are empty.

  “Would you like another drink?” he asks, starting to get up.

  “No thanks.” I want to keep a clear head. Tonight has had enough surprises already. “So what am I supposed to call you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…well, do I address you by a title?”

  “No. Definitely not. I don’t want it to be like that. Besides, I’m not your prince,” he points out. “I’m not royalty in this country. And even if I was, I would only want you to call me by my name.”

  “Okay,” I say. “What is your name, though? Are you Prince Alessandro, or Alex?”

  God. I sound accusatory now. I’m sitting here and accusing a prince, a real prince, of setting out to deceive me. Of dishonesty. He’s been spending the evening with me, being nothing but kind and supportive, even accompanying me back to the party when there’s no reason he should want to be there, and I can’t seem to stop questioning him.

  But then, I have to have something to call him, don’t I? I’m feeling overwhelmed.

  “I will take that drink,” I say suddenly before he can answer my question.

  I’m expecting him to point that out, but to my surprise, he nods and rises gracefully, departing for the bar and leaving me alone to sort out the tangle of my thoughts.

  As soon as Alex, or Alessandro, or whatever I’m supposed to call him, is out of my immediate vicinity, I whip out my phone. I feel at such a disadvantage, and I’ll take any opportunity to gather a little information that will help me interact with him more appropriately

  Avaran. I’ve heard of it, of course, but it’s one of those little nations that have worked their way into my awareness without my being able to say exactly when or how it happened.

  It’s not as if I’ve ever met anyone from Avaran—until today, of course. I’ve never been there or dreamed of going there. I’ve never eaten at an Avaranian restaurant or studied Avaranian art. I couldn’t even point to it on a map.

  Deciding to start there, I quickly pull up a map. There it is, right on top of the boot cuff of Italy, tucked up under Slovenia like it’s actually trying to hide. It’s a tiny little place, smaller than any of the other countries around it, and suddenly it comes back to me where I first heard of it—a fifth-grade geography unit that had us memorize the largest and smallest countries on every continent.

  But seeing it doesn’t actually tell me anything about the place. There’s a feeling you get in your mind when you think about a country you’re familiar with, a sense of the national flavor, and I feel nothing here. What is Avaran like? What does it stand for? Are its people ruggedly independent to a fault like Americans? Are they cold and structured, like Russians, or more ‘live and let live’ like the French and Italians?

  And what might being the prince of Avaran consist of? Does the country have resources that need to be controlled and distributed carefully? Does it have allies that need to be placated or enemies that need to be guarded against?

  I look up at Alex getting our drinks from the bar. He’s so gorgeous my heart speeds up just looking at him.

  What is he doing here? The prince of a European nation…is he here for political reasons? Will he be meeting with world leaders, maybe in the conference room of this very hotel? It’s not impossible to imagine— this is a really nice place, and I know that Peter does rent the conference rooms out to important people for meetings. But why would anyone come to California to do politics? That part of it doesn’t make any sense.

  I set my questions aside. He’s on his way back now, drinks in hand, and the time he spent away from our table hasn’t brought me any closer to being ready to deal with the fact that I’m sitting opposite a prince. I should have done more internet searches, read more articles—but I don’t know what I would have been looking for. I’m completely out of my depth here.

  He sits down opposite me and slides me a drink. “It was a rum and cola, right?”

  “That’s right.” I take the drink and sip it to give myself a little more time to think. “Thank you.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. Are you feeling any better?”

  “What?”

  “Well, you looked a little dizzy when I stepped away. I had the feeling you were having trouble processing things.”

  Was I so transparent? I feel my face flush.

  “I’m fine,” I say, not troubling to confirm that he was correct in his assessment, that I was indeed rocked backward a bit by the news that he was a prince.

  He nods. “You wouldn’t be the first one to be thrown for a loop upon finding out who I really am,” he says. “Unfortunately, it happens more often than I’d like. People don’t know how to deal with royalty, how to talk to royalty. It’s just like I was saying before, really. It’s similar to what I’m sure you go through as a famous actress.”

  “The difference being that you knew I was an actress when you approached me,” I point out.

  “Bumped into you,” he corrects me easily.

  “Either way.” I tilt my head and laugh.

  “I understand your point,” he says. “I did know what I was getting into when I started talking to you. When I asked you to join me for a drink.”

  “I’m so glad you did, by the way. Ask me for a drink. But now I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be treating you,” I say.

  I’m a little embarrassed that all my insecurities about this situation are just pouring out, but I feel completely unglued—scattered—and I know I haven’t got a hope of keeping it together. It would be hard enough anyway, given how distractingly handsome he is. But then there’s the fact that I’ve never been around royalty before, and I have no idea how to act.

  “What do you
mean, how you’re supposed to be treating me?” he asks, a shadow of a frown crossing his face.

  “Well, I just mean…” my face is burning. “I don’t know. Am I supposed to bow to you or something? I mean, curtsey? I mean—” My God, I am really making a mess of my words here. “I don’t want to disgrace the United States in the eyes of the ruler of Avaran or cause some kind of diplomatic incident or something. I just don’t know what’s appropriate in a situation like this.”

  A smile lights up his face. “You don’t need to curtsey.” His tone is warm and sincere, and his eyes hold mine. “We’re just having a drink together. Treat us as two regular people having a drink together.”

  “We’re definitely not that,” I say.

  It’s so long since I’ve considered myself just a person. Always, I have to be aware of my other identity, my identity as Aeryn Redfall, my identity as a celebrity. Before, in my life back home, going out for a coffee or to pick up a bottle of my favorite nail polish was an impulse. Now it’s a carefully choreographed routine.

  And maybe this is what I get for sitting down with a stranger. Maybe I’m asking to complicate my life even further than it already is. But how could I say no? How could I turn down those hands, those eyes, those muscular arms? Even if this is just a drink. Even if I never do get to feel them around me—

  Oh my God. Am I fantasizing about a prince?

  I need to lock this down immediately. Alex is kind, yes, and I’m enjoying spending the evening with him, but I can’t allow myself to think that this is going anywhere. He’s a prince. I’m sure he’s not allowed to get involved with girls like me even if he wanted to—which, of course, he wouldn’t. There must be dozens of European royals interested in him, given the fact that he’s heir to a throne and absolutely gorgeous to boot.

  He’s watching me. “You’re really uncomfortable being around royalty, aren’t you?” he asks. “I wouldn’t have thought you would be.”

  “Why? Because I’m famous?” I say the word almost ironically. I have never felt my own fame less.

  “Well, partly that,” he says. “Being a Hollywood star is the American version of royalty, isn’t it? That’s what I’ve always read. And—well, let’s just say you aren’t the first actor I’ve met, and many of them do seem to have a superior attitude. But it isn’t just that. You play a princess on TV.”

  “A fictional princess,” I remind him. “You might as well say I know how to live without indoor plumbing because there isn’t any on the show.”

  He laughs at my joke.

  “I watch your show,” he counters. “I see the way you go through the routines of royal protocol. People who visit Redfall Palace treat you with the respect due their rulers. And you have to hold yourself apart from the rest of your community, the people who live in your town, both for your safety and for theirs. You understand more of the royal lifestyle than you know, Erica.”

  I like the sound of my name on his lips.

  “It isn’t like you think,” I say. “Those scenes are shot all out of order, for one thing, and sometimes they’re even split in half, so the person you would be talking to isn’t in the shot. Remember what I told you about Aeryn and Boniface, and how everyone thinks they’re seeing some secret chemistry between me and Chris, and in reality there’s nothing? What you see on TV has nothing to do with real life. When the cameras stop rolling, we all turn back into our true selves.”

  “You don’t feel some reality in your role as Princess Aeryn?”

  “No,” I say emphatically. “I’m not a princess. I’m just this girl from Ohio, and it’s still incredibly weird to me that I’m on TV at all. When people tell me I’m famous, I feel like they must have made a mistake, like they must be confusing me for someone else.”

  “You’re very humble,” he says. “You’re a beautiful and talented actress, and people all over the world know your name.”

  He smiles suddenly, and it lights up his face like a floodlight before he continues.

  “I have to say, there’s something stunning about the fact that you’re the one who’s flustered to meet me.”

  Chapter 5

  “Listen,” Alex says, playing with a packaged pair of crackers. “Try to put it out of your mind. It was easier, wasn’t it, when we first met?”

  “It was. I didn’t know who you were then,” I point out.

  “I liked that you didn’t know,” he says. “That’s why I come here. To America. To California. I’m not a famous face the way you are, of course”—he inclines his head respectfully—“but Avaran is a small nation, and among my people, I am certainly one of the most famous faces. Back home, everyone knows me. Everyone gives me special treatment because they think that’s what’s required of them. They think that’s what they’re supposed to do. Maybe they think that’s what I want. I don’t know.”

  He gets a far-off look in his eye for a moment. Then he turns his focus back to me. He looks almost sad for a moment. His deep brown eyes pull me into his warmth.

  “But as often as I can,” he continues, swirling his now empty glass so they ice clinks around in it, “I like to get away. I like to come here, where most people haven’t even heard of Avaran, where the concerns of my country are half a world away. People here just look at me and see an average person. Nobody special.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” I blurt out before I can think through what I’m about to say to him.

  He raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  But I can’t say it. I’m blushing furiously.

  He watches me, curiosity etched all over his face. “Tell me. What did you mean by that? Why don’t you think I can blend in?”

  “Because…”

  Oh God, am I really about to say this to a prince? Out loud?

  “Because you’re gorgeous,” I blurt out. “You must get attention everywhere you go. I know I had my eyes on you well before I understood who you really were.”

  He smiles faintly. “This is a city of beautiful people.”

  “Alessandro—”

  He waves a hand. “Call me Alex. Please. I don’t come here to be treated with formality. I come here to escape from that.”

  “You don’t like being a prince?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying, exactly,” he says. “I do like it. I like the responsibility, most of the time, and I like that I have the ability to do good work for my people, to enact policies that will help shape the fate of our nation and the way Avaranians live. I guess I think of it as a job, a lot of the time, and it’s a good job to have. It’s important. I feel…useful.”

  “That does sound nice,” I say. “I suppose I can relate a little bit. I mean, not that my work changes people’s lives in the same way. I don’t make national policy, obviously. But…well, I feel a little self-important talking about this, but some fans of the show have taken the time to tell me some wonderful things. I’ve heard stories from people about how Royal Blue gives them hope, how the show gives them something to look forward to every week, and Aeryn is someone they look up to and admire.”

  “That must be a nice feeling,” Alex says.

  I feel warm inside, and I don’t think it’s the liquor.

  “It is nice,” I say. “It makes me feel like what I’m doing is more than just having fun. Because it is fun, you know. Acting. The costumes, and the stepping into someone else’s life and personality. Becoming Princess Aeryn Redfall. I like the idea that all this fun I’m having is actually doing people some good.”

  Alex’s eyes are soft. “I feel exactly the same way. All the privileges I enjoy as a member of the royal family…don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy them. But I wouldn’t be able to accept them if I didn’t feel I was giving just as much back to my people. I would feel like an unjust ruler.”

  “It’s so strange,” I say.

  “What is?”

  “Everything tonight. The idea that I could have something in common with a prince. And not only that, but the fact that I met a p
rince here at all. It’s a bit surreal.”

  “I’m sure we have more in common than even that,” Alex says. “I meant what I said, you know, about celebrities being the royalty of America. You have your film stars and your TV stars, and everyone knows their faces, their names, the intimate details of their personal lives.”

  I think of the story Jay sold about me. It had honestly left my mind until just now, and I feel a sudden wave of dread at the thought of it.

  “Have you read articles about me?”

  “Yes, I have,” Alex says quietly.

  My heart sinks.

  “I don’t want to lie to you,” he says. “I don’t want to put you at a disadvantage in that way. You deserve the truth, Erica. But I want to be clear. Whatever I’ve read about you in any articles, I understand that it’s as likely to be false as true. I don’t enter this—whatever this is—assuming that I know anything about you. Reporters can be wrong, and they can exaggerate things to get a better story, and I know that as well as anyone. It’s happened to me. Back in Avaran, everyone who meets me thinks they already know who I am.”

  I don’t know what to say. I feel on the verge of tears, suddenly. What Alex is saying is exactly right—exactly my experience and the way I feel. He understands me like nobody has.

  These are problems I can’t complain to my old friends in Ohio about because they don’t know what it’s like to find yourself suddenly famous. I can’t talk to Lizzie about it either, because she feels so comfortable and at home in this world. But Alex is like me. Suddenly the things that divide us—our different nationalities, the fact that he’s a prince and my royal status is completely fake—seem not to matter at all.

  And before I can think about what I’m doing, I lean across the table and kiss him.

  Our lips meet for only a few precious moments before Alex breaks the kiss, and there’s a horrible moment in which I think I’ve crossed a line.

  My mind goes a mile a minute. Have I violated some unknown rule? We kissed before…I thought that was mutual, but what if I was wrong? What if that was just me kissing him, and he didn’t want to make things awkward by pulling away? What if—