Not bothering to lower his voice, Elias looked him straight in the eyes. “Today is a big deal. Tradition. Heritage. Et cetera. King Julian not being here will amp up the calls for his abdication. It puts a lot more pressure on you.”
Gee, Eli. What would his next shockingly obvious epiphany be? That beer was good and girls are pretty?
That thought had been weighing on Christian all day. His father’s absence would be seen as a strong indication that he just didn’t care about ruling anymore.
And Christian wasn’t at all sure that he could disagree at this point.
“Well, luckily I’ve got Theo here to distract the masses.” He slapped Theo’s back so hard that the man stumbled forward, boots kicking up loose straw. “You’re five-months-ago news, Eli. He’s the new, hot man-candy of House Villani.”
“That’s the last thing I want to be.”
“Ha!” Eli punched him—not too lightly, from the looks of it—on the shoulder. “You don’t get a choice. It comes with the stunning princess you’ve tricked into choosing you.”
“After the way I embarrassed myself with the bow, people will only notice me to mock me, I guarantee.”
“Why’d you sign up to compete? You had to know you don’t have the skills.”
“Hey, the first time I picked up a bow was five days ago. I’m damn proud the arrow went toward the target and not out into the crowd.”
Christian roared with laughter. “Five days? What the hell?”
“Genevieve told me it was a requirement for all the men in the royal household to participate. And since it’s been announced officially that we’re together, I had to do it.”
“You believed her?” Elias slapped his back in sympathy. But with a shit-eating grin on his face. “She pranked you, Holst. That’s…well, that’s some truly well-executed hazing. I guess you’re really one of us now.”
Theo’s legs went out from under him. He sank onto a bale of hay. “You didn’t expect me to make a fool of myself? There’s no list of things expected of the princess’s boyfriend?”
“Hell, no.” Finally getting his laughter under control, Christian shook his head. “I mean, we expect you to not be a jackass. Or break her heart. That’s pretty much the whole list.”
Elias passed Christian the beer again. Jerked his chin at Theo. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
Theo snapped back to his feet, snarling. “Like you’re any better, Trebanti? I heard Kelsey had you hauling a ladder out to the west orchard because she had to handpick apples to bake a pie. Swore it wouldn’t taste the same if a gardener picked them.”
With a shrug, Elias said, “I have no shame. No regrets. It was a damn good pie. Crumbly stuff on top instead of a crust.”
Christian finished off the beer while imagining his other sister even finding the palace kitchen on the first try. And had to work not to snort the beer out his nose at the thought. “Genny will never bake you a pie. Or if she tries, you’d be smart to accidentally toss it out a window.”
Theo calmed down, thwacking his hat against his thigh. Probably worked off his humiliation snapping at Eli. “Her being a princess was a way bigger stumbling block for me than her lack of kitchen know-how.” Smirking, he added, “Genevieve’s got other…talents.”
Oh, man.
This is what Christian hated about his friends dating his sisters. How the hell had that even happened? “Hey, that’s my sister you’re making double entendres about. Keep it clean, or I’ll make you do a stint pulling the press at the apple cider booth.”
“We should go find our women.” Belatedly, Theo added, “And Mallory, of course.”
Elias nodded at Gregor as he led them out of the park. “Didn’t you get the memo? Mallory’s one of ‘our women’ now. Christian’s dating her.”
“Holy fuck.” Theo stopped, mid-step. And shot out an arm to grip Eli’s shoulder. “Are you serious?”
“About there being a memo? Regrettably, yes.”
“Sir Kai felt it best to quantify things now that we’ve gone public. So that everyone in the palace would have the same talking points.”
They’d fought about it, of course. Christian insisted that who he dated was nobody’s business. Kai just gave him a look like he’d been too clueless to add two and two and get four. Then he’d shoved the already written memo in front of him.
“This. Is. Huge.” Theo circled, hand jamming through his short brown hair. “I don’t know which will be the bigger issue. That she’s an American. Or that she’s your sister’s sister.”
“Cut it out. She’s not related to Kelsey. Not the tiniest bit. Don’t make this weird.”
“Is that the headline to the official press release? This Isn’t Weird?” Theo chortled.
Christian had hoped he and Mallory had been paranoid. That nobody would give two shits about them, once they knew.
Theo’s reaction—Theo, who was in his inner circle and thus far less inclined to pass a snap judgment—proved otherwise.
Eli had his phone out. “I’ll forward it to you. It’s got more spin to it than a washing machine.”
“Yeah, there’s no contest. The American commoner thing is definitely the biggest shock value that will have the people up in arms. This whole country’s got a stick up its collective ass about royalty and unsullied bloodlines. Hey, is that why you made her a baroness?”
“No. That was all Gran’s idea. There was no grand scheme behind us dating. She’s just…awesome, okay?”
Theo swept his arm to indicate the enormous festival spread in front of them. “So everyone knows?”
Maybe not.
Christian thought about how nobody had commented after their dinner date. How several in the restaurant had greeted him, and, yes, treated her as invisible. Not anymore. “They will after today. I’ll make damn sure of it.”
“This is going to be one hell of a show. I mean, I’ve barely gotten to know her since she came back, but Kelsey and Genevieve think the world of her, too. Obviously she’s awesome. Still…” Theo bent in half, bracing his hands on his thighs as laughter rolled out of him. “This’ll definitely shift the attention off me and Genny. Thanks for that.”
They joined the river of people, most dressed in traditional costumes. It felt to Christian like he’d been tossed in a time travel pod and zipped back a couple of hundred years.
All the cars had been cleared from the narrow cobblestone streets. The houses with their colorful paint jobs and tilted eaves were centuries old. All the vendor stalls were wooden, without any visible modern construction. Black cauldrons simmered over fires, brimming with rabbit stew and goulash.
Christian spotted the women—their women, damn it—at a picnic table, making traditional harvest wreaths out of herbs and berries.
Genevieve and Kelsey jumped up. Full blue skirts swishing with so many layers of petticoats they’d had trouble fitting in the car this morning, they hustled around the table to hug Elias and Theo.
Mallory stood, too. She smiled at him—that smile that was like warm caramel being poured over his heart—but she didn’t make a move to join him. Guess the protocol police, a.k.a. Sir Kai, had laid down the law about following Christian’s lead in public.
To hell with that.
He picked her up, swung her in a circle so that her long red braids flew to the side and her skirts fluttered up like an umbrella. After the third time, only when the world started tilting for him, did he give her a long kiss. No tongue, of course. He’d crushed enough public appearance rules by holding her, far more than just her hand, let alone kissing in public.
But Christian wanted to make a statement. One big enough that, yeah, it would send shock waves through the festival. One big enough to leave no doubt that Lady Mallory Wishner was involved with the crown prince. And that would demand that she be treated with respect.
“Hi,” he said softly, smiling down at her beautiful face. “I missed you.”
“Same here.” A little breathless from the swinging, she steadied herself with a hand on his chest, right over the dangling tie. “I watched you compete. That whole thing with the bow and arrow? If you’d shown me that our first night in the bar, you wouldn’t have needed to even buy me a beer. I’d have climbed you like a freaking tree.”
Interesting. Archery had never been a thing he used to get women in Moncriano. Everybody did it—albeit not as well as him. Interesting that an American could be that blown away by it. Gratifying, too, after so many years spent practicing until his blisters had blisters. “You don’t think it’s dumb? Old-fashioned?”
“Very old-fashioned,” she purred, running her hands in circles over his pecs. “And in those tall boots, that pirate shirt under the vest, winging that arrow to split Eli’s in half on the bull’s-eye? That might just be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
That compliment more than made up for giving his trophy away. “Maybe I’ll give you a private exhibition one night.”
Her green eyes sparkled like Lake Slobjda at dawn. “You’d better.”
Genevieve tapped him on the wrist. “I hate to interrupt, but we do have another shift of officially shaking hands over by the glassblowing soon. I’m told people have been lined up for a while.”
“I’ve been talking to people all day. Interacting. Why does it have to be as formal as a rope line?”
“Why do you ask the same question every year?” she countered. “It’s the deal, Christian. You know that. We grip and grin, we have lunch with the Harvest King and Queen, we hand out trophies for the games. Same as always.”
He did know. And was just off-center from working so hard to dodge all talk of the upcoming EU vote.
Everyone knew they weren’t allowed to comment. But everyone wanted to know the opinion of the crown prince, regardless. It’d seriously cut down on the fun factor of one of his historically favorite activities.
“Sorry. I’ll kick myself back into gear.” He made a big show of swinging his arms and stomping, as if warming up. “I don’t want to be a downer for Kelsey and Mallory’s first Harvest Festival.”
“It’s been great so far. Aside from dressing up in eighty-two layers,” Kelsey grumbled, fluffing her skirts with an adorable pout.
“You really are my sister,” he said with a grin, tugging the fat blond braid hanging down her back. “I love the mingling, the food, the games. But I’d happily live without ever dressing up again.”
“At least you’re in boots, and not high heels. Take the tiny win,” Mallory urged.
Kelsey arched an eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise respond.
That was weird.
Weirder still when she took Elias’s arm and pulled him over to show off her wreath, without another word to Mallory. Genevieve did the same with Theo, after giving Mallory a commiserating half smile.
“You guys in a fight?” he asked softly.
Mallory plucked at the white scarf tucked into her navy-blue vest embroidered with gold-and-silver pinecones. “Oh, you picked up on the arctic freeze-out? Yes. No. We’re not fighting, per se, because there won’t be a winner or loser. Kelsey’s in a snit. I’m waiting it out.”
That sucked. Those two were so close. It had to be bugging Mallory. “Can I help smooth things over at all?”
She waved her hands frantically in an X shape of denial. “Definitely not. You need to stay out of this. Seeing as how you’re the reason for it.”
Baffled, Christian asked, “What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything. I, however, had the temerity and gall to date her brother. The poor judgment to distract you from your important duty of choosing a royal bride. I am all things selfish and bad for you and your country.”
He almost laughed, but then took in the tight press of her scarlet-slicked lips, the clench of her jaw. “You’re kidding.”
“No. Apparently little miss ‘I don’t want to be a princess’ has now drunk the Kool-Aid and wants to protect the sacred legacy of the House of Villani.”
Christian had no idea what Kool-Aid was, but he got the gist of it. “That’s bullshit. Gran can’t tell me who I can and can’t date. Neither can the prime minister. That means Kelsey doesn’t get a vote, either. I’ll set her straight.”
“Christian, please don’t,” she asked, interlacing their fingers. “I appreciate the offer. But this is a big hurdle we’ll have to work out in our new, no-longer-sisters capacity. Kelsey has to figure out that she can’t choose one piece of her family over another. Her heart’s in a good place, trying to be a full-fledged Villani and a good sister to you. She simply overshot the goal.”
He mostly agreed. Except for the part where he didn’t get to help. Seeing Mallory upset was not okay by him. So if he couldn’t fix the fight, or the hurt, at least he could distract her from it.
“You know what we haven’t done in a while? Made a bet with each other.”
“If the bet is which one of us will win at archery, well, I don’t take sucker bets. You’d take me down.”
“I was thinking bocce. Do you play?”
“I’ve never even heard of it.”
Americans. “It’s the national sport—how did you not learn that in your cramming to brief Kelsey on all things Moncriano?”
“Mmm. Sports seemed like a tab in the binder I could skip over.”
“It’s as easy as horseshoes. Or croquet. You just throw a little wooden ball and try to hit the stick. Fun for all ages. C’mon. I bet you can’t get to fifty by the time I get to eighty. I’m giving you the advantage since it’s your first time.”
“But you have to go do the rope line.”
“Later.” Because in the rope line, she’d probably be stuck next to Kelsey. He needed to get her clear for a little bit. “This’ll take ten minutes. It’ll be fun. Do you take the bet?”
Eyes already gleaming with competition, Mallory asked, “Winner gets what?”
Christian cupped his hand around her ear to whisper, “Choice of locale for our next…ah…encounter. Options include the state carriage, the indoor pool in the dungeon, and the back of my motorcycle.”
“Let’s go.”
He caught Theo’s eye and pointed down at the bocce green. Held up outspread fingers to indicate ten minutes. And mentally patted himself on the back as they got set up with balls. An old-timer explained the game to Mallory with lots of hand gestures and elbowing.
This would be great. Even more than that epic kiss they’d shared.
People would see Mallory playing their beloved game, with him, and it’d prove they were together. Statement made. The crowd would fall in love with her. The press would be nothing but compliments.
He took the first underhand throw after tossing the bright-yellow pallino. This’d be fast and dirty. Got his ball close enough to the pallino to make the spectators clap and exchange money. Guess they wanted in on the bet, too.
Mallory eyeballed the shot. Loosened up her arm in the tight vest-and-shirt combo with a couple practice swings. Right as she let go, a goose honked—loudly. Her whole body jerked, and her throw went wide.
Very wide.
Completely sideways. And just to the side of the bocce court was the pen with white peacocks so children could take pictures with Moncriano’s iconic symbol.
Her deep-green ball hit a peacock in the head. It immediately flopped onto the ground.
Children screamed. Some adults gasped. The rest stood in horrified silence. A hush fell over the entire crowd as word of what happened obviously spread like wildfire.
A quiet festival filled with thousands of people was never, ever a good thing.
Mallory turned to him, hands covering her mouth. “What have I done? Christian, what should we do? Can you help it?”
“I’m no vet.” He watched the animal wranglers circle around the animal, shooing the children away. Saw the head wrangler deliberately look over at him, then slice with his hand across his throat.
Holy Christ.
She’d killed a white peacock.
By accident, to be sure. But there was no doubt it’d be taken as an omen to some and an insult to the Crown to others.
He’d wanted to be sure the whole kingdom fully understood that he and Mallory were an item. To be sure there was no misunderstanding about her place at the palace, in his life.
Well, word would certainly spread about this…
Gathering Mallory in his arms, Christian held her tight, eyes fixed on the awkward attempt at removing the poor animal’s body without letting the children see it. The tailfeathers dragged in the dirt.
Already he saw a sea of phones up in the air, taking pictures. Half were aimed at the dead bird. The other half were aimed at them. This would go viral, no doubt.
Shit.
“We can’t do anything. We move forward.”
“Stay at the festival?” she asked, doubt clouding those deep-green eyes.
It wouldn’t be easy. But it was necessary.
His father’s recent actions had seen to that. “The House of Villani does not turn a blind eye to its troubles, or its mistakes. We especially do not hide in the palace until things blow over. Sorry, sweetheart, but we have to go do the rope line now. You don’t have to, if you’d rather not. But Genny, Kelsey, and I do.”
She burrowed her cheek against his collarbone for a long beat. Then she stepped out of his arms. Took his hand with one that still slightly shook. “I go where you go, Christian. We’re together. Bad or good, awkward or weird, embarrassing or awesome. Together. That was our decision, and we’re sticking to it for the next four weeks.”
Her bravery blew him away.
As did the unexpected reminder that she’d only agreed to a short run of this relationship.
Christian had picked the arbitrary timeline merely as a way to wheedle her into accepting the bet. While it couldn’t last forever, he’d felt confident they’d make it at least four weeks. He’d win the bet, and then they could keep going, as long as they could stretch it out.
Tempting the Prince (Sexy Misadventures of Royals) Page 19