by Leah Rooper
Madison walks forward. “So, are you going to show me where Prince Daniel hangs his crown?”
I grin and lead her into my room. It’s exactly like I remember—a lush four-poster bed, expensive paintings, and a shining wood dresser. There’s absolutely nothing in here that says anything about me.
“Can we call it a night, yet?” I say, throwing myself face first onto the plush bed. But just as my body hits its tempting embrace, Madison grabs my shirt and yanks me back up.
She’s surprisingly strong for someone so small.
“Not yet, Hockey Prince. We have a cocktail party to prepare for.” She paces around my room, inspecting the five-foot tall oil paintings of people I may be distantly related to. I’m glad she’s here. Maybe she’s worried about me. More likely, though, she’s just trying to make good on her promise. That’s the thing about Madison—once she commits to something, she really commits.
I plop back down on the bed and rub my face. “So, you actually have faith I’m not going to completely destroy this cocktail party. Are you delusional or just in denial?”
She drops down beside me so we’re both staring up at the 18th century tapestry that’s hung over my bed. I wonder what the Queen would think if she saw my bed in Chicago, with its homemade quilt, holes in the sheets, and faded pillowcases.
“It’s just a cocktail party,” Madison says. “You can’t tell me you’ve been a prince for seventeen years and never been to one?”
I sit up and stare out the tiny window with the frosted glass pane and wonder exactly how much I’d have to contort my body to fit through it.
“Daniel?”
“Uh, well, yeah. But I usually just hang out in the back and slip out early,” I admit. “The thing about being a bastard prince is that everyone’s pretty much content to ignore you.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen, anymore.” She must see the look on my face because she quickly adds, “In a good way, of course.”
“I’m no good at being the center of attention. That position is perfect for people like Tremblay or my sister. I’m not sure why I even let you talk me into this.”
“Daniel Sacachelli.” Madison leans up on her side. “What are you even talking about? You’re the center of attention almost every night at the arena.”
“That’s different. For one, I’m doing something I’m actually good at. And second, I’m part of a team. We’re in it together.”
Madison studies me for a moment, then her face lights up. “And you’re still part of a team now.” She taps furiously on her phone and within moments, my door flings open and a crowd surges through—Tremblay, Bell, Eva, Eldredge, and even Dwayne Boulder.
“Here it is,” Madison says. “Your royal dream team.”
I stare wide-eyed at everyone crowding in my room. It’s no surprise that Tremblay and Bell would come at the beep of a text, but the fact that Madison got Eva to come (and bring Eldredge and Dwayne with her) is pretty miraculous.
Madison stands in the center of the room. She’s obviously taken some pointers from Coach Z, because she’s got the ‘Listen up, boys’ stare down to a T.
“Okay, so we are all here because we want Daniel Sacachelli to succeed and take the throne of Eldonia.” Madison balls her fists and straightens. “Tonight is important. First impressions are everything. And if Daniel can impress most of the guests, it’ll make everything go smoother from here on.”
She catches each person’s eye, to make sure we’re all listening, but when she gets to me, her look softens, her smiles changes.
“So,” Madison continues, “Daniel works best on a team. And here in Eldonia, we’re going to be that for him.”
“Can we have a team name?” Bell asks.
“No. So we’ve all got a job to do to help Daniel succeed.”
“What about Sac’s Saviors?”
Tremblay turns to Bell. “That is really terrible.”
Madison ignores them. “And we are his most trusted friends and advisors. So we need some ideas. What can we do to make this event go smoothly?”
Eldredge steps forward. “I could give you a detailed itinerary of the event tonight, so you’ll know just what to expect.”
“That’s great.” Madison smiles at him.
“I suppose I could go over the guest list with Dan-Dan,” Eva says. “I’ll show you who it’s important to mingle with and who to avoid.”
Dwayne raises his hand and only when I nod, does he speak. “I’ll help intercept those we want to keep away.”
Hayden goes over to me and slings an arm around my shoulder. “I’m already the wingman for Sacs every weekend. I’ll do the same here. Except, instead of talking him up to the ladies, I’ll talk him up to the lords.” He grins wildly. “Man, have I got some stories to tell about Sacs.”
“Yeah, don’t tell any of those,” Madison says, gaze narrowing.
“Don’t worry,” Alice says. “We just have to tell everyone about what a charitable, good-natured, hard-working guy Daniel is.”
“Yeah.” Madison runs a hand through her long hair. “We’ll need to brainstorm some story ideas.”
Everyone laughs, and I feel my cheeks grow red.
“And what are you doing?” Eva asks Madison.
“Why, I’m going to be his loving girlfriend, of course,” Madison says, walking over to me. “My job is to show people that Daniel is a mature, responsible, generous partner. And he’ll be that way when he’s a king, too.”
Madison slips an arm through mine and smiles up at me. Even if this whole girlfriend thing is just an act, it comforts me. I know I won’t be able to walk out there tonight without her. Luckily, I won’t have to.
Chapter Eight
Madison
“Wow,” I say. “Wow. Wow. Wow.”
“Can you stop gushing over your reflection for a second and give someone else a chance in front of the mirror?” Alice gives me a friendly hip check. “Damn. We look…pretty good.”
Good is an understatement. Eva looks over from where the hairdresser is giving her a final spritz of hair spray, and smiles. Dwayne, as always, hovers in the corner.
Being princess of Eldonia has a lot of perks—including a personal hairdresser, makeup artist, and stylist. All of which she offered to Alice and me today to help us get ready for the cocktail party.
My long black hair is swept up into a chignon bun with just a few wavy tendrils falling out, framing my face. My eyes have been done up in silver and smoke, with a berry pink paint over my lips. And my dress…I’ll never know how Eva got a dress in my size so quickly. It can’t be one of hers—she’s much taller and curvier than I am. It’s a turquoise blue, with crystals covering the bust. The shining fabric flows down my body like a waterfall.
And Alice looks amazing. I feel a bit jealous, because I’m always the one to do her hair and make her look like, well, like a girl. But now she had Pablo and Antoinette and Gloria swarming over her like an army of ants. And they made her look amazing. Her short hair is styled with a gleaming crystal clip, which she keeps pawing at like a dog who’s just been fitted with a cone, and her eyes are done up in a smoky grey. Her olive and cream dress has a high neckline, and a jeweled belt around the waist.
“We look like princesses,” I gush.
Eva walks over and stands between us. “You look beautiful.”
I had been surprised when she came into my room with the styling team. She had been fresh-faced and natural, actually looking like a teenager instead of the grown-up she has to be. I didn’t imagine Princess Evangeline would want to get ready with two peasants like Alice and me.
“I thought…we could all get ready together,” she had said, almost shyly.
I have no idea why she would be intimidated by Alice or me. It should definitely be the other way around. Especially since I’d seen how Eva had turned on her mother earlier. So I took it for what it was—a warning not to piss off the Crown Princess of Eldonia. But that girl isn’t here. This Eva seems more like
one of us, and I appreciate it.
“Thanks for all the help,” Alice says, turning to the team and then back to Eva. “Trust me, I know getting this ready—” She gestures to her face. “—is no easy task.”
Eva laughs lightly. “It was a pleasure. There’s only Mama and me in the castle now, and she has to have complete privacy when she gets her face on.” A sly smile creeps into her expression. “Trust me, you don’t want to see Mama before she has her eyebrows painted on. It’s terrifying.”
We all burst out giggling, and I can’t help but notice that Eva’s eyes crinkle when she laughs the same way Daniel’s do.
When we compose ourselves, Eva smooths a wrinkle on her dress. “Really, it’s so nice having you two here. The castle always seems so empty…except in the summer, when Daniel visits.” Her face warms at the mention of him. “I suppose we should go check on him.”
“Hopefully he hasn’t bolted. Did you bar his windows?” I try to joke, but my voice cracks. Poor Daniel. He doesn’t even like going to the Chicago Falcons Christmas party, with all the hobnobbing he has to do with the owners and executives. I worry my bottom lip then stop, wondering if I just smeared my lipstick.
It’s one night, I tell myself. Daniel can survive one night.
But my stomach roils, and my throat tightens. Because I know this isn’t just one night for him. It’s the rest of his life.
“Come on,” Eva says, and gestures for us to follow her out of the room.
I take one last look in the mirror. I always daydreamed of this—getting made up, wearing a luxurious gown, looking like a million dollars. Except in my dreams, I was always heading to my movie premiere, about to walk down a red carpet.
That dream will die, unless I pull this off and score that audition.
I follow silently behind Dwayne, staring into the back of his ebony suit jacket. Eva and Alice are laughing about something, but I missed it.
Eva wants Daniel to be king, and she loves Daniel more than anything. If she thinks what we’re doing is right, why does it feel so wrong?
Before I can think about it further, we turn the corner, and there stands Sacachelli and Tremblay.
Oh. Hot. Damn.
I’ve seen Daniel dressed up before at press conferences and hockey club parties. And I’ve seen him undressed, too, like when he’s in the trainer’s office. That’s always a mouthwatering experience.
But I’ve never seen him like this.
Daniel leans against the wall in that nonchalant way he always has.
He’s wearing a TUXEDO—one with tails even—and a black bow tie. Eldredge must have tied it for him. I know full well that Daniel wouldn’t have a clue how to knot the tie.
He looks like James Bond. His skin is richly tanned against the stark whiteness of his shirt, and his black hair is slicked back, with only a single perfect curl formed at the front of his forehead. I wonder if Daniel let anyone do his hair, or if he insisted on doing it himself.
I take a deep breath and my knees get weak. The delicious, rich scent of his cologne wafts over and I wonder what it would be like to bury my face in Daniel’s neck.
Vaguely, I notice Hayden is there too, dressed to the nines as well. But I can’t stop drinking Daniel in.
The most handsome thing about him is that it seems like the old Daniel is back—the one oozing confidence and charm, the one whose lines are slicker than his hair, the guy who can sweep a girl off her feet as easily as he can steal a puck.
I haven’t seen this Daniel since Eva arrived in Chicago. This whole deal with the throne has taken that swagger away from him. I blink hard, as if I could capture this image of him like a photograph.
Who knows what the party will do to him.
Then I notice Daniel has turned our way. And his face loses a bit of that cockiness. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open.
A blush rises to my cheeks. He’s looking at me.
“Hi,” I say.
“Uh, yeah, hey,” he says, and throws his hand behind his head the way he always does when he’s feeling awkward. “Uh, so, what’s up?”
I can’t help myself. “You look, like, stupid handsome.”
A smirk crosses his face. “This ol’ thang? Just had it lying around.”
“Oh yeah, me too. I always carry a selection of luxurious formal wear with me, just in case.”
“I don’t doubt it, judging by the size of your suitcase.”
“Hey!” I playfully smack his arm. “Keep that up and you’ll be carrying it all the way back to Chicago.”
His eyes focus on his sister, who is hanging back with Dwayne. “If I ever go back to Chicago…” he says solemnly.
My chest tightens and instantly I wish someone would loosen my dress.
If our plan works, Chicago won’t be Daniel’s home anymore. He’ll be an ocean away on a throne, wearing a crown instead of a helmet. And all the things that are important to him…hockey, his townhouse, and hopefully, me…will all just be memories.
If I linger on this thought, my eyes are sure to well with tears, and all the time Antoinette spent on perfecting my eyeliner will be for nothing. I think about Eva, and the mask she puts on. I don a giant smile, and follow her lead.
“Come on, Hockey Prince,” I say. “Let’s go wow the crowd.”
He sighs deeply. “Let my torture begin.”
…
Apparently a cocktail party in Eldonia is held in a stinking ballroom. And the Eldonian Castle has its very own ballroom. All my Beauty and the Beast dreams are coming true.
The towering ceiling is decorated with breathtaking artwork that looks like it’s straight out of the Renaissance. Fat cherubs fly through fluffy clouds, cows and goats frolic in rolling green hills, and naked nymphs bathe in a spring. Honestly, it’s bit avant-garde, even for my taste.
“Yeah, okay, I’m going back to my room,” Alice says, stricken in the doorway.
“I’m with you,” Hayden says.
Before us, the guests swarm around the ballroom like bees around a hive. That is, if bees were clad in enough jewelry to fund the next World War. Everywhere I look, there are people in tuxedos and evening gowns. Some of the men even have mustaches. You never see anyone with a mustache in Chicago anymore, unless it’s playoff season. And even then, it’s usually just like a disgusting swab of peach fuzz.
Except for Coach Z. He rocks a mustache like nobody’s business.
Despite being packed full, a gentle breeze drifts through the open doors that lead to the veranda. The air smells of citrus, even in here. I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, just like I do before I walk on stage. In this role, I am the consort of a prince and that means every line out of my mouth must be perfect.
Eldonia is my stage, and I am the star. And I’m not going to let Alice and Hayden weasel their way out of helping Daniel take his throne.
I force myself between them and pinch their elbows. “You two lily-livers aren’t going anywhere. You’re going to complete the mission and support your teammate.”
“B-but there’s so many people,” Alice says, her voice rising to demon pony territory.
“And they’re all so OLD,” Hayden says. “Sacs is the prince, not me. He’s on his own—”
Delicately, I place the tip of my heel on Hayden’s gorgeous leather dress shoe. “Don’t make me hurt you, Tremblay.”
“Wait,” Alice says, “is that an appy table?”
I let loose a sigh of relief. “Go forth, my children.”
Alice and Hayden take off, heading straight for the banquet table, laid out with enough food to even keep the Falcons fed for, like, an hour. I don’t have the heart to tell them that the appetizers here are more likely to be fish eggs and snails than pigs in a blanket.
Okay, at least I won’t have to worry about them.
I look behind me. Eva squeezes Daniel’s arm and says quietly, “Alright, Dan-Dan. Everyone knows you’re here, and the reason why. Just follow my lead.” She t
hrows her shoulders back and glides into the ballroom, immediately getting swept into conversation with the nearest group of dignitaries. She turns to us, eyes wide, and mouths, “Lay low.”
But as if she’d said, ‘CURTAIN’, every face in the ballroom turns to look at us. I swear the lights dim and a spotlight shines down on us. Then again, maybe that’s just my overactive imagination.
And then, the music picks up again—had it even stopped, or was that my imagination?—and I take Daniel’s arm. “Let’s mingle.”
I never find it difficult to talk to strangers at parties. Usually, that’s because boys always approach me, but it’s also because I like to think of every person as fascinating, with their own story to tell.
This is a party. It’s no different than a Falcon kegger back home. I can do this.
Daniel stands straight as a rod, and when I look up, his eyes are focused, his face a stony mask.
Looking at him…I can’t help it. I smile. “You look amazing,” I say.
He looks down at me and for the first time tonight, a genuine smile perks his lips. “It’s just ‘cause I got you on my arm.”
Just as my insides are doing little celebratory flips, my eyes catch a glimpse of stark white hair with a single black streak. The Queen Dowager stands in a cluster of people. Her harsh gaze settles on us and she smiles deeply, then raises a single finger in a come-hither motion.
Uh-oh.
Feeling like we’ve been summoned to the guillotine, Daniel and I walk toward her.
As soon as we get near her, all the people close to her turn to look at us, as if two chimpanzees had just wandered into their conversation.
“Prince Daniel and, err, you,” the Queen Dowager says, looking at us with disdain, “I’d like you to meet some of my closest friends.”
This is like Satan introducing us to his Horsemen. I take a deep breath. “Hello, Your Highnesses!” I say merrily, not caring that I’d probably used the wrong term.
“A-HUM-HUM-HUM!” The man beside me, an older fellow with grey mutton chops, makes a sound in the back of his throat as if he’s half-choking, half doing vocal warm-ups. “Prince Daniel. So it’s true. You’ve returned to Eldonia.”