The Princess

by Lori Wick

  “Peter. Peter Owens.”

  “And you say he’s 11?”

  “Yes.”

  The old woman nodded and smiled before putting a hand on Shelby’s arm. “Thank you for coming, my dear. We’ll visit again soon.”

  Shelby smiled as she leaned to kiss the well-seamed cheek that smelled of wisteria. Anton rose when she did, and the two made their way from the west quadrant.

  “I didn’t know she was tired,” Shelby admitted softly. “I’m sorry.”

  “She hides it very well,” Anton said sternly of his mother. “She shouldn’t do that. I’ve told her many times, but she can be stubborn.”

  “She’s so special. She told me all about the way she married into the royal family. I feel I’ve learned a lot.”

  “She would be just the person to talk with, but you’re doing splendidly, Shelby. I hope you realize that.”

  “Most days I’m afraid I don’t, but it’s nice of you to say.”

  “Is something bothering you right now?”

  “Yes, but it’s something very foolish.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  Shelby stopped and looked up at him. “I don’t know anything about skeet shooting, and I’ve been told that Nikolai will shoot at the fair and so will the king.” Shelby shrugged awkwardly. “I just wish I knew more.”

  “I’ll tell you what you can do.” Anton’s voice dropped in a conspiratorial tone. “Head out of town on the B48. Take it to the lake crossing and go right. You’ll stay on the road for about two miles, and then you’ll be at the skeet club.”

  “I can go out there?”

  “Anytime. They’ll show you around, let you shoot, answer your questions—anything you want.”

  Shelby’s smile started slowly but grew huge. The king grinned back at her and fairly beamed when she went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Watching her walk away for several seconds, he wondered if his grandson had learned yet that she was one girl in a million.

  Shelby glanced behind her to see if Kris was flagging. He looked strong, so she kept on toward her destination. Normally she would not have been concerned, but he’d been a bit under the weather during the weekend. Gilbert had accompanied her on two excursions.

  Today was Thursday. This morning she’d been given the restful news that because of a cancellation she had no appointments all day, and because the King’s Fair was just ten days away, she had immediately made other plans.

  Shelby was beginning to think she’d misunderstood the directions when she saw the area ahead. “Royal Skeet Grounds” the sign read, and Shelby turned and pedaled along the road, Kris still trailing her. Not many minutes later Shelby pulled to a stop and surveyed the acres in front of her.

  It was a lovely section in the capital city’s east end. Flat, wide-open fields stretched before her, and dotting the acres in a remarkably straight line were the shooting areas and the boxed mechanisms that released the clay pigeons. Kris rode up beside her as she sat, still astride her bike, both feet on the ground.

  “I had no idea it would be so big,” Shelby said softly. She was not overly familiar with Kris and not surprised when he recited for her the total acres and said nothing more. Shelby smiled at him in thanks, knowing he would know, and then looked to see two men coming toward her.

  “Princess Shelby,” the taller of the two spoke as soon as he was near, “King Anton’s minister called and said you might be coming. I am Matthews, and this is my assistant, Austin. May we show you around?”

  “Thank you,” Shelby replied graciously, climbing from the awkward position on the bike. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

  “Not at all. We have a small clubhouse with a cafe and gift shop. We would be most honored if you would join us.”

  “And the prince’s gun is here,” the assistant added. “You may shoot if you wish.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to use the prince’s gun. I might break it.”

  They were all denials and smiles over this, but Shelby’s mind was quietly made up. She had a wonderful time seeing the clubhouse, cafe, and shop, but when they went out to show her how the competition worked and offered her a shotgun, she would not take Nikolai’s.

  “We have another one,” Austin offered. “I’ll just run and get it for you.”

  Shelby smiled at his enthusiasm but felt a need to remind Matthews that she hadn’t done this before.

  “I’ve never shot a gun.”

  “The gun Austin is bringing is very basic. Feel free to try it.”

  He was so eager to please her that Shelby knew she would have to try. She glanced at Kris, who had moved a discreet distance away, and wondered how she’d gotten herself into this.

  “Here we are,” Matthews said joyfully as Austin came with the gun. He took it from his assistant’s hands and held it across the palms of his own. “Feel free, Princess Shelby.”

  Shelby swallowed and lifted the gun. She was rather intimidated by the feel of it and the fear that she would hurt someone.

  “It’s not loaded,” one of the men told her, but Shelby was still very careful. She turned out to look across the fields and even thought about raising the gun to her eye. She was looking down at the barrel, surprised by the length, when one of the men spoke to her husband. Shelby hugged the gun to her, the barrel next to her ear, and spun to see Nikolai towering over her.

  “Hi,” he said softly as he gently removed the weapon from her grasp.

  “It’s not your gun,” Shelby told him breathlessly, only too happy to relinquish the weapon. “I didn’t want to break your gun.”

  “I’m not at all worried about your breaking my gun, but I’d rather you didn’t hug any gun close to your face.”

  She watched him break the barrel, check the chamber, and close it again.

  “It’s unloaded, as I was certain it would be, but you still shouldn’t point it toward your ear.”

  Shelby nodded and bit her lip. How did he know she was here? She turned to question Matthews and Austin, but they had both started away.

  “Did you want to try to shoot, Shelby?”

  Feeling panicked, Shelby looked back at him and shook her head. Nikolai watched her and tried to find some words to take the fear from her face.

  “Shelby, I’m sorry if—”

  “I’m so embarrassed,” Shelby whispered, cutting him off. “I just wanted to see what it was like. I just wanted to watch. I didn’t know the gun would be so scary in my hands, but they wanted me to take it. They were so eager to show me, and I didn’t know how to say no.”

  Had Nikolai not been holding the gun, he would have hugged her. “I’ll tell you what,” he said kindly. “Why don’t you sit here, and I’ll show you how this works.”

  He took her hand and led her to a bench nearby. Shelby sat down and watched as he went to the box of shells, loaded the gun, and placed earplugs in his ears. Just a minute later he took position, shouted “pull,” and shot at the clay pigeon that was released. Shelby watched as the dishlike object burst in the sky. Nikolai then turned to look at her.

  “That’s all there is to it,” Nikolai said easily. “Would you like to try it?”

  “I think I’d rather watch you.”

  Without a word, Nikolai turned and raised the gun again. He shot several more targets in the next few minutes, missing only the last one.

  “I must be nervous with you watching me,” he said, his eyes on the reloading of his gun.

  Shelby smiled. “I somehow doubt that.”

  Nikolai slanted her a sidelong glance. “You might be surprised.”

  Shelby couldn’t pull her eyes from his. He was devastatingly handsome to her right now, his eyes so blue and probing that Shelby felt her breath leave her in a rush. After a moment he turned back to the open fields.

  “I think we’re making progress, Red. You didn’t even blush.”

  Shelby bit her lip to keep from laughing even as she felt her face heat.

  “But I won’t turn around right now,”
Nikolai said with his back to her, “or I’ll be proved wrong. Pull!”

  Nikolai took several more shots, sometimes calling for two pigeons at a time, before setting his gun aside, removing the plugs from his ears, and waving to Matthews at the controls.

  “You can still try to shoot if you’d like.”

  “No, thank you. My family has never even owned guns, and I just wanted to see what skeet shooting was like before the fair.”

  “I’m glad someone called me.”

  “Is that how you knew?”

  “Um hm.”

  The couple was walking toward Nikolai’s car now, and Shelby glanced sideways up at him.

  “What did that person say?”

  “Oh, he was very respectful, but the gist was simple: The princess is out here and looking quite lost. Does anyone want to claim her?”

  Shelby looked away, feeling very much a fool. It had all seemed so innocent. She just wanted to learn of the sport. Never was she hounded by people or pursued in any way, but having everyone know who she was had its keen disadvantages, not to mention the fact that the king regent had asked his minister to call ahead.

  “I’ll see you back at the palace,” Shelby said, her own path parting from his. “Thank you for showing me, Nikolai.”

  “Where is your car?” Nikolai asked her retreating back.

  “I rode my bike,” Shelby answered without turning.

  “Ride home with me,” he called, needing to raise his voice to be heard. “I’ll send someone back for your bike.”

  “Thank you, but I need the exercise.” Shelby had stopped and turned to say this, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she continued on toward Kris. She had just sat down in the bike seat when Nikolai reached her. Shelby continued to strap on her bike helmet, put her hands on the handlebars beneath the seat, and put one foot on the pedal, her message clear.

  Nikolai stared. “This is your bike?”

  “No, Nikolai, this is my swimming pool. I ride it everywhere.”

  He was so astounded by her sarcasm and the recumbent style of the bike that all he could do was laugh. Shelby sat in bemused silence over his outrageous response.

  “I’m sorry, Shelby,” he finally gasped. “You just took me by surprise.”

  “Have you really never seen this bike before? I ride a couple of times a week.”

  “Never. I’ve seen you on your skates, but not this bike. I’d like to try it sometime.”

  “Anytime except now is fine. I’m getting hungry for lunch.”

  “Why don’t you come back with me in the car?” His offer was most sincere.

  “Because I want to ride.”

  Nikolai thought it was her way of saying she needed some space. He was happy to oblige her.

  “I’ll see you at home.”

  “All right. Thanks again.”

  Nikolai waved as she took off, amazed at how swiftly she covered the yards to the road and then started back toward town.

  “No wonder Kris looks like he’s dropped weight,” Nikolai observed as he watched the companion stay at an exact distance behind the princess, and seemingly with remarkable ease.

  Ivan heard the remark but kept silent. Kris had lost weight, but he was loving it. He claimed to have more energy than he’d had since his school years.

  “Let’s go home, Ivan. If we don’t hurry, she’ll beat us.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ivan was as faithful a servant as any royal could hope for and not given to gossip, but if Arlanda should ask, and ofttimes she did, the report he would give would be very positive indeed.

  The clock read 2:15 the next morning when Nikolai woke from a startlingly real dream. He lay looking into the dark, his arms aching to hold his wife.

  Something is happening here, Lord. I’ve never dreamed of Shelby. I’ve even tried to have her in my last thoughts before sleep so I could, but it’s always been Yvette. Nikolai’s chest rose and fell. It was so real, Father. I still can’t believe she’s not here.

  In a single move he sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes on the door that separated their rooms. He knew it would only frighten Shelby if he checked on her, but the temptation was strong.

  She might be your wife, Nick, but you’ve got to go slow here. You’ve got to give her time. She still looks at you with too much apprehension and doubt.

  The prince rose. The water he splashed on his face from the bathroom sink felt very good, but his heart was no more settled.

  Show me, Lord, he prayed as he lay back down. Show me the next step. Help me to be more approachable, and help Shelby to move toward me too. Show us how to do this. Show us in Your time. Nikolai was still asking God for wisdom when he finally drifted back to sleep.

  Twelve

  Shelby watched the old man next to her as he pushed his food around his plate with a fork. Her eyes, which darted about the dining room, took in what she was accustomed to seeing in that room of the care center. Not one of the staff members ate with the residents, nor did any of the directors save herself. Shelby also took note of the fact that visiting family members only sat with their beloved—they did not eat with them.

  The princess felt the time for a confrontation had come. The directors’ meeting was to start in less than ten minutes. Shelby had a few more words with the people at her table and then rose to freshen up in the bathroom. By the time she took her seat at the huge table in the meeting room, she was ready. The old minutes were read and a few changes were made, but just as soon as the floor was open for new business, Shelby’s pen went into the air.

  “Princess Shelby,” the head director acknowledged.

  As was the custom, board members presented new business at the small podium set up at the head of the table. Shelby grabbed her notebook, hoping her knees would carry her, and took her place behind the smooth oak stand.

  “It has recently come to my attention that I am, as a member of the royal family, allowed a certain measure of influence, within reason, in this facility. Is that correct, Mr. Chairman?”

  “Indeed, Princess Shelby. You may add or adjust rules that only the king can change.”

  “Thank you. I have not as yet felt a need to take advantage of my status as the princess, but today I will. Effective November 1, just a little more than a month from now, no employee or director of the care center may bring food onto the premises, including the parking lot.”

  As Shelby expected, Mrs. Radford, the center’s administrator, put her hand into the air.

  “Yes, Mrs. Radford?”

  “Princess Shelby, I find a need to remind you that the staff has only 30 minutes for lunch and 10 minutes at break time. There is no time for them to go out to eat.”

  “Precisely,” Shelby said with no triumph in her voice. She went on quietly. “Which means they’ll have to eat what the kitchen prepares.”

  Shelby knew exactly which directors had known where she was headed and which were surprised by this announcement. Mrs. Radford was dumbfounded. Her face was a deep shade of puce, and had she been wearing a corset, Shelby was sure the stays would have creaked.

  “I don’t think you know what you’re asking,” she began, but Shelby cut her off.

  “On the contrary, Mrs. Radford, I know just what I’m asking, and that’s why I’m giving you five weeks to implement the change. Today was the last day I will be forced to watch the residents in this home push tasteless food around on their plates. Not even visiting family members will eat the food provided.”

  “I’m not sure you understand, Princess Shelby,” Mrs. Radford cut back in. “Food prepared in great quantities and in an institution such as this tends to have a certain institutional-type flavor.”

  “I do understand. There will be certain limitations, Mrs. Radford, and I have appreciated your efforts to keep costs down, but you will no longer trim costs in the kitchen. I want fresh fruits and vegetables served whenever possible. I want meat served on its own, not smothered in sauces that disguise all taste. I want f
resh desserts every day, not something baked on Monday and served all week.”

  Shelby’s eyes met those of everyone around the table. Some were furious and some held respect.

  “I have gone over the books repeatedly. This care center can well afford better food. We spend a small fortune on grounds, which most of the patrons cannot even go out to enjoy. They look beautiful, but something simpler would be just as appreciated. Three delicious meals a day will go much further for the hearts and lives, no matter how brief, of our elderly patients.”

  Again Shelby studied their faces. “You have five weeks to make the changes. If this is not enough time, you may see me about an extension, but the rule stands.”

  Shelby took her seat, still trembling inside. The table was quiet for a few seconds, and Shelby kept her eyes down. When she did look up, it was to see one of the sternest men at the table staring right at her. Shelby had to force herself not to look away. The table erupted in argument just a moment later, but not before Shelby watched one of those stern eyes wink at her. It gave her just the courage she needed to stand her ground.

  Shelby skated down the hallway to her bedroom, sweat dripping down her back. The morning’s meeting had been long and heated, and she had felt a great need to skate into the park for some time alone. She took a chair right inside her bedroom door and took her skates off. A moment later Shelby dampened a hand towel and put it around her neck, then walked into the middle of her bedroom and stood still.

  I believed with all of my heart that You wanted me to do that, Lord. I’ve tried so many times to get Mrs. Radford to improve the food, but she always makes excuses or says she’ll do it and then doesn’t. I felt I had no choice. I didn’t want to go to all the other directors and start a conspiracy behind Mrs. Radford’s back, but maybe this wasn’t the way either.

  Shelby thought for a moment about who had been opposed. The people who had been against the change, Mrs. Radford and four others, had never had family members in the care center. So many people believed that the elderly couldn’t taste anything. Shelby knew that some of the tongue cells grew dull, but she had yet to see an old person who couldn’t taste the difference between sour cream and ice cream.