Royal Mistake #5

by Renna Peak

I tilt my head. “Don’t we, though? How can you make a sound decision about the future of Montovia without worrying about it?” My fingernails dig into my palms, my hands are clenched so tightly. “None of this makes any sense. It’s like everything you’ve held dear your entire life has suddenly turned upside-down.”

  “That’s precisely what’s happened. That is exactly what has happened. Everything I’ve ever known—everything I’ve ever believed—has been turned on its head. It’s almost as though I can see things clearly for the first time in my life. Can’t you see that, Victoria? Can’t you—?”

  “Can’t you see that I’m not going to sacrifice the wellbeing of your people for my selfish desires? Andrew…” I throw my hands up before setting them on my waist. “Why can’t you see that?”

  He frowns and glances over at the door.

  “Yes, you should go. You should rethink whatever the hell it is you’re doing here.”

  He snaps his head back to look at me. “It isn’t that.” He glances again at the door again before turning back to me. “I do not wish to continue to argue this with you. I love you. And you love me. Our love for each other is the only thing that matters.”

  “Fine, then I take it back.”

  “You can’t take it back, Victoria. And even if you could unsay the words, I already know the truth. We both do.” He glances again at the door.

  “What is it you’re waiting for out there, Your Highness?” I fold my arms over my chest. “You didn’t invite Lady Clarissa for another show, did you?”

  “Hardly.” He barely covers his smile. “Perhaps under the circumstances, I shouldn’t say. But I thought that tonight would be the best time to do this.”

  My brow furrows. “To do what?” I glance at the door myself. “What did you do?”

  “I’ve arranged for something.”

  I roll my eyes. “The only arrangement I need tonight is transportation to the airport. If you’ve got that on your agenda, I might be persuaded. Otherwise, Andrew…”

  He takes a step forward, pulling my hand into his. “One night, Victoria. Give me one night to convince you.”

  “There is nothing…nothing that is going to convince me. And we’ve already had multiple nights together. It isn’t as though spending one more with each other is going to change anything. It isn’t going to change the fact that I can’t give you or your country what you deserve.”

  “Let me show you.”

  “Show me what? There is nothing you can say or do that is going to change my mind. And you still have to give that speech tomorrow. Even if you could somehow give me the world—”

  I’m interrupted by a knock on the door.

  Andrew grins. “Our transportation is ready, Victoria.”

  “Transportation?”

  He nods. “And not for your departure from Montovia or from my life, for that matter. The transportation for our date.” He extends an elbow to me. “Our first date. And the world is exactly what I intend to give you, Victoria, if you’ll allow me.”

  Andrew

  Try harder.

  William’s words are still at the front of my mind, still spurring my every action. Somehow I will get through to her. I must.

  She seems hesitant to go anywhere with me—I can see the resistance in her eyes—but when I touch her gently on the arm, something softens in her expression.

  “I don’t know, Andrew…”

  “One date,” I say softly. “What sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t take you on a single date after everything I’ve put you through?”

  She presses her lips together and doesn’t answer.

  “Please,” I say once more. “If you’re determined to leave, at least let me give you a proper farewell.”

  Finally, she looks up at me. In her beautiful eyes I can see the emotion I know she’s trying to hold back. It gives me hope.

  “Okay,” she says finally. Her voice is so quiet I can barely hear it.

  My fingers tighten slightly on her arm. She’s given me one more chance, and I don’t intend to waste it.

  “This way,” I tell her, leading her to the door.

  Elias, our driver for the evening, is waiting for us in the corridor. Victoria and I follow him downstairs.

  “Where are we going?” she asks me when we get to the car.

  I smile. “If I told you, that would ruin the surprise. In fact…” I reach into my pocket and pull out a long silk scarf. “You’re going to be blindfolded.”

  She stares at me like I’ve gone completely mad. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious,” I say, grinning. “Come—it’s part of the fun.”

  She looks like she still wants to argue, but she finally just rolls her eyes and turns around—but not before I see the hint of a smile on her lips.

  Carefully, I wrap the scarf around her eyes and tie it at the back of her head.

  “Can you see anything?” I ask her.

  “Nope.”

  “Good.” I finish tying a knot—letting my fingers linger in her hair a touch longer than necessary—then help her into the waiting car.

  “How far is it?” she asks as the car begins moving.

  “About half an hour.”

  “Half an hour?” she says. “And you’re going to keep me blindfolded the whole way there?”

  “It will be worth it, I promise,” I tell her. I reach over and let my fingers drift down her arm, and I feel her shiver beneath my touch. My lips curl up in a slow smile. “Of course, there are plenty of ways we might entertain ourselves on the way there.”

  She shakes her head, but she’s obviously trying to suppress a smile. “Nice try.”

  “I’ve heard it’s even better when you can’t see,” I say. “If you take away one sense, all the others are heightened.” My thumb brushes against the back of her hand, and another tremor moves through her skin. Her breath falters. My smile deepens. “Of course, that’s just a theory. I’ve never actually experienced it myself.”

  “It’s probably bullshit,” she says, sounding a little breathless.

  “Mm. I suppose it might be.” I brush my thumb gently across her skin again, drawing another little gasp from her lips. She’s so sensitive to my touch—even when I haven’t touched her anywhere particularly intimate yet.

  “Is this normal date behavior for you?” she asks. “Teasing women on the way there? It doesn’t seem very gentlemanly.”

  “I don’t normally go on dates like this,” I say. “Perhaps you should teach me about proper date etiquette. For example, is this—” I let my fingers drift up her arm again, trailing them gently across her skin, “—proper date etiquette?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Oh, forgive me. Then what about this?” I lean over and kiss her lightly on the cheek, just below where the silk scarf presses against her skin.

  “No.” Her voice is a breathless whisper.

  “Maybe here, then?” I tilt my face slightly and kiss her ear.

  She sucks in a sharp breath and doesn’t say a word.

  “Or here?” I say, dropping lower and kissing the side of her neck.

  Her fingers grip the seat.

  “Or even here?” This time I lift my head slightly and kiss the corner of her mouth. I let my lips linger there, and she turns her head slightly, turning the half-kiss into something that might almost be a full kiss.

  And then, suddenly, she pulls away from me.

  “We aren’t doing this,” she says, turning away from me. “I agreed to go on a date with you. Nothing more. In fact…” She grabs the silk scarf and starts to pull it off, but I grab her hand and stop her.

  “Please, leave it on,” I say. “I promise I won’t try to do anything again.”

  She stays still for a moment longer before finally lowering her hand.

  “I don’t know if I can trust you,” she says.

  “You can, I promise.”

  “You promised me you’d marry Princess Justine, too.”
>
  “I haven’t broken that promise yet.”

  Yet. The word hangs in the air between us.

  She turns away from me. Even though she can’t see, she seems to be more comfortable turned partially away from me.

  Still, I can’t help but notice that her leg still rests quite close to mine—close enough that she must be able to feel the heat from my body. And she’s fidgeting with her fingers, twisting them together and apart as if she doesn’t know quite what to do with them.

  I smile, leaning back against the seat. There is hope.

  I turn and look out the window. The city is lit with a golden glow, shining against the night. It looks exactly as it did when I was up on the roof—but there’s something warmer about it now, something bright and welcoming. When I first had the idea to take Victoria on a date, I considered taking her into the city. There’s a lovely restaurant right on the river, and there’s nothing more romantic or beautiful than the Elizabetta Gardens—at night, the lamps along the path look like little glowing fairies lighting the way. I want to give Victoria a fairy tale—and nothing says fairy tale like that.

  But I don’t dare go into the city until I’ve issued my apology. While I imagine there are some people who have remained loyal to me, I know there are others who will react just as Tobias’s mother did—with anger and hurt. I’ve betrayed them, shamed our country, and lost one of our beloved symbols. Montovia is a small nation, yes, but our people are proud—we have to be. The rest of the world so often forgets us. Most people who are born here never leave our borders—they live and die within our lands. Montovia is a part of us. It burns in our blood.

  Tomorrow, I will take responsibility for what I have done. I will apologize to my people and show them I have the strength and humility to be the leader they deserve. For the first time, they will see me for who I truly am—imperfect but determined. Vulnerable but proud. Broken but trying.

  It’s Victoria who has shown me that side of myself. Somehow, in spite of everything I’ve done and experienced over the past few weeks, I feel stronger than I ever did before—and it’s all because of her. And I know, deep down, that if she stays by my side, the people of Montovia will see that, too. They will see I am a better man because of her. I will be a better king because of the things she’s taught me.

  But why can’t she see that herself?

  The driver follows the road away from the city, and Victoria seems to sense something, because she stirs beside me.

  “This is a very quiet date,” she says finally.

  I find myself smiling again. “What do you usually speak of on dates? Politics? World events?”

  “God, you must be a really boring date.”

  “Politics can be quite fascinating.”

  “And quite controversial,” she says, almost smiling. “Plus they’re essentially your job. Spending the whole night talking about your job is definitely bad date etiquette.”

  “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

  She shakes her head, her smile widening a little. “Are you really this clueless about dating? Or are you just being difficult?”

  “Honestly, I haven’t done much dating,” I admit. “You should know that—you’ve written about my family for years.”

  “Yeah, but that was just the public stuff. The stuff you guys did for the press. I always assumed there was other stuff going on behind the scenes, especially since the media isn’t allowed here.”

  “I’m not my brother Leopold,” I say. “Don’t mistake me—I enjoy women. But for most of my life, I’ve found my time and attention focused on other things. There have been women, of course. And some formal courtships here and there. But what you refer to as dating has never been a very large part of my life.”

  She looks thoughtful—or at least I imagine she does. I’m beginning to regret the blindfold because I’d love to look into her eyes right now, to see exactly how she feels about my little confession.

  Slowly, her lips turn up into a full smile. “I guess that explains why you’re so bad at this whole romance thing.”

  I frown. “Bad? I’ll admit I’ve made a few missteps, but I happen to think that list of reasons—”

  “The list was good,” she says. “Better than good. It was—” The smile suddenly falls off her face, and I can sense her closing herself off again. “But it was also inappropriate. I told you that this was over. I’ve made up my mind. And you promised—”

  “The list is still in my pocket,” I tell her. “I won’t read it to you now, but if you should change your mind, all you have to do is ask.” I let my fingers slide over my pocket and feel the crackle of paper beneath the fabric. “I would point out, though, that even if you never hear these words, that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Or that they aren’t completely true.”

  She’s grown very still beside me, and I know I’ve pressed too far. I shift in my seat, straightening.

  “And that is why I usually stick to discussions of politics on dates,” I say lightly. “It leads to far fewer awkward situations.”

  The road ahead of us is dark, the streetlights growing farther and farther apart. The trees are getting taller and taller as we leave the capital behind.

  Victoria shifts again beside me. Her thigh brushes against mine, but she quickly pulls it away.

  “My ears are popping,” she remarks after a long moment of silence.

  “We’re almost there,” I tell her.

  Elias turns the car onto a quiet stretch of road, and I resist the urge to reach over and take Victoria’s hand. It’s been some years since I’ve been up here. I’m almost nervous to see it again, to see if it is as magical as I remember.

  Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the car rolls to a stop.

  “Can I take off my blindfold?” Victoria asks.

  “In just a moment,” I tell her. I climb out of the car and reach back to help her out.

  I take her hand and lead her across the grass. She nearly stumbles when the grass becomes a stone path, but I catch her.

  “All right,” I tell her. “Let’s take off your blindfold.” I reach up and undo the knot of the scarf. The fabric falls away from her eyes.

  And she gasps.

  We’re standing on a wide stone terrace overlooking the valley. From here, we can see both the palace and the city below, gleaming with lights—but that’s not all. We’re high enough above the glow cast by the lights that the sky above us is clear and bright, a dark blanket dotted with thousands of stars. We’re not at the highest point above the valley—there are mountains on the other side of this ridge that are topped with snow all year round—but this is the best view in Montovia.

  “It’s beautiful,” Victoria whispers. She looks down at the city, then tips her head back and looks at the stars above her head. “The sky looks so big from up here.”

  I remember having a similar sentiment when I was a boy, back when my family used to come up here. Down in the valley, the mountains form a ring, cutting off the sky on every horizon. But up here…there’s nothing to block the view. The sky seems to stretch out forever in every direction.

  “That’s not all,” I tell her, gently turning her. Behind us, a cylindrical stone building rises toward the sky. This place isn’t as well-kept as it once was, so many of the floodlights have gone out, but there’s enough light to see the engraved sign above the door: Montovian Royal Observatory.

  “My grandfather was very fond of astronomy,” I tell her. “He had this observatory built during his reign. It hasn’t been kept up in some years, but most of the equipment is still here. If you think the sky is beautiful from here, just wait until you see it through the Beast.”

  Victoria looks up at me. “The Beast?”

  I smile. “It’s what my grandfather affectionately called the largest telescope. It’s a fairly accurate name.”

  As we stare at up at the building, Elias comes over with a large basket in his hand.

  “Thank you,” I tell him, taking t
he basket. I turn to Victoria. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering a basket of food for us. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually had dinner or not.”

  It’s too dark to tell, but I’d swear she blushes. “I haven’t.”

  “Wonderful. I thought we might start with a picnic here on the terrace, then go inside and see if we can get the Beast to work again.”

  She smiles again. “I’d like that.”

  I glance up at Elias. “Thank you—I’ll give you a call when we’re ready to return to the palace.”

  He dips his head. “Very good, Your Highness.”

  As the car pulls away again, I lead Victoria further onto the terrace. There are a couple of stone benches here, and I steer her over to the one closest to the overlook. It’s windier here—chilly, actually—but I’m prepared.

  “It’s much warmer up here in spring and summer,” I tell her. “But the view of the stars is clearer in autumn and winter. Fewer clouds.” I pull a large wool blanket out of the basket and wrap it around her shoulders as she sits down. “You won’t be cold long,” I assure her. “I asked our chef to send along some of her famous cider.”

  I pull the warm thermos from the basket and hand it to her, then withdraw some soft buns, wrapped carefully to keep them warm during the drive. I settle down next to her on the bench as she finishes her first sip of cider.

  “What do you think?” I ask her.

  “It’s really fucking good,” she says. “Probably the best cider I’ve ever had in my life.” She smiles up at me. “Not that I drink a lot of hot cider. It’s not really a big thing in the States outside of the holidays. And it’s normally too hot for cider in L.A., even at Christmastime.”

  She offers the thermos to me, and I take it, my fingers curling around the warm container. I’m starting to feel chilly, too.

  Victoria seems to notice. “Do you need to share the blanket?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  I take half the blanket and wrap it around my shoulders. We’re closer now, pressed side to side, but Victoria doesn’t seem to mind. The blanket easily blocks the chill of the wind. It’s comfortable here—even warm, though I suspect that might have more to do with my proximity to Victoria than anything else.