by Leah Rooper
I brace myself for Daniel’s awkward reply, but somehow he manages to say, “Happy to be here.”
A woman with eyes like a pigeon and a wormy mouth gives a pompous sneer. In her hands, she holds a shaking Chihuahua with eyes as bugged-out as hers. “Tired of all your dalliances across the pond, little prince?”
I’m not sure what ‘dalliances’ means, but I don’t like what she’s insinuating. “Daniel just finished coaching the Chicago Cougar Kids, a hockey team for underprivileged youth. He’s part of a charity organization that helps economically disadvantaged children and youth access hockey, keeping them off the streets.” I paw at the air the way the kids always do when they score a goal. The little Chihuahua in the woman’s arms flinches and growls. “FANGS NOT GANGS. That’s their motto.”
This is not entirely a lie. Daniel does coach the Cougar Kids, but their season ended two months ago. And coaching them certainly doesn’t keep him from…dallying.
“We’re happy to have you here,” another gentleman says, with what I think is a genuine smile. “Your father was a great man.”
Daniel’s smile tightens. “He was.”
“Will you be visiting the arena much?” the man asks. “The work your father put into it is incredible. It’s become quite a popular spot in the community.”
A real smile peeks on Daniel’s lips. “I’m happy to hear that.”
The Queen Dowager does not look impressed. “Prince Daniel, while we’re in the presence of such important members of state, please tell us what your plans are for the taxation of—”
Oh God. Daniel’s knowledge of U.S. taxes could fill a Post-It note, let alone foreign taxes. I stare at the trembling Chihuahua, its whole body a quaking mess of fear, and imagine that’s probably what I look like right now.
But, like an angel descending from heaven, Eva appears out of the crowd and grabs Daniel’s arm. “How timely, Mama. Daniel and I were just discussing taxation this afternoon.” She gives us a satisfied look. “Let me explain some of the truly innovative ideas Daniel suggested to me.”
Eva is a true saint. And, I realize, as she launches into an entire platform on the taxation of Eldonia’s agriculture, a genius. Even the woman’s growling little Chihuahua seems to stop shaking for a second.
I feel a presence come up behind me and I turn to see Alice. I try to subtly nod in the direction of the Queen Dowager in a way that tells her this is not a good time for any interruptions.
“Hey,” Alice whispers between me and Daniel. “Just wondering if there is any real food here? It’s all fish eggs and snails over there.”
“Not now,” I growl under my breath, hoping Eva still has everyone enthralled with her talk of tariffs on tomatoes.
Then Alice’s eyes dart away from mine and I see her eye the Chihuahua in the woman’s arms. “Aw!” Alice says. “Cute dog!” She reaches out to stroke the animal’s head.
“Alessandro does not like to be touched!” the woman shrieks.
But it’s too late. In the span of a second, the little dog changes from shivering accessory to demon. Its brown eyes bug so far out of its head, I swear they’re about to pop out, and the creature bares its teeth, unleashing a guttural series of demonic yips.
Alice jumps sideways, crashing right into the Queen Dowager. A chorus of yells sounds out, but it’s blanketed by the shrill screaming of the Chihuahua. Its whole body is shaking uncontrollably and it suddenly leaps out of the woman’s arms.
“ALESSANDRO!” she screams.
But Alessandro is not listening. The little dog takes off, darting past the Queen Dowager who screams as if she just saw a rat. The whole ballroom turns to look at us, and then suddenly, I see a waiter go down. I fall to the floor and peer through the sea of ball gowns and trousers. Alessandro has tripped the poor waiter and is heading straight for the open doors leading to the veranda.
Eva snatches my wrist in one hand and Daniel’s in the other. “That mutt’s owner is our university’s biggest donor.” She steels her gaze on Daniel. “Get the dog back.”
Daniel takes a step back, his eyes wide at the chaos unfolding. “What?”
I snatch his arm and drag him toward the open doors. “We’ve got to catch that dog!”
Daniel may not know anything about taxes, but he’s fast. He grits his teeth. “On it, boss.”
I see the wheels turning in his head, the way they do when he’s on the ice and he’s about to make a play. Step one—find the puck.
“There!” he shouts and points. A little white body darts under the banquet table, and then shoots out the other side, taking the tablecloth with it. The platters of caviar and escargot sail forward and clatter to the ground. Daniel and I leap over the wreckage.
Step two—avoid obstacles.
People stand stricken, shrieking as the little dog darts in between their legs, surging out from underneath their dresses.
“Excuse me!” I call, pushing through groups of people. “Pardon me! ‘Scuse me! Oo, great shoes! Watch out!”
Daniel doesn’t even need to say anything. He dashes around the waiters, leaps over chairs, and shimmies around the shocked partygoers without even breaking a sweat.
But my heart heaves as I push through the last few groups of people. Alessandro rushes forward, just about making it through the open doors to a life of freedom in the great wilds of Eldonia.
“Daniel!” I scream. “Now or never!”
Daniel puts on a burst of speed, flings off his beautiful tuxedo jacket, and dives forward. The jacket flies over Alessandro like a net.
I stop in my tracks and take a deep breath. Daniel gets up, clutching his jacket—and the demonic contents—tight to his chest.
Alessandro’s owner runs over. “My baby! Where is he?”
“Here you are, ma’am,” Daniel says, and hands over his entire jacket. “Safe and sound.”
The woman reaches into the folds of the jacket and out pops Alessandro’s little white head. The dog growls angrily then licks her chin. She laughs. “Oh, my darling!” Then she turns her eyes on Daniel, looks him up and down, and smiles. “That was very noble of you, young prince. I see your dalliances have kept you in excellent shape.” She laughs merrily and turns away.
I take a deep breath in and survey the scene. A tablecloth on the floor, platters of food everywhere, and a prince without a jacket. “We should re-group.”
Thankfully, Eldredge appears out of the crowd, his face calm despite the chaos. “Would you like to come with me, my prince?”
The two of us follow behind Eldredge, who leads us out the main doors and into an empty corridor.
As soon as the giant wooden doors close behind us, all the chatter dies away. After being among all that noise, it’s almost eerie.
Daniel sighs deeply. “What a disaster.”
“On the contrary,” Eldredge says, “you’re a hero. The countess is most appreciative that you caught her dog.” Eldredge removes his jacket and hands it to Daniel. “You’ll be needing this, Prince Daniel.”
“I can’t take your jacket!”
“You have to,” I say, staring at the prince and his butler. “You’re on stage here, Daniel. We all are.”
Daniel sighs then takes the jacket, slinging it on. It’s slightly small and fits snugly on his sculpted shoulders. “Thanks, Eldy.”
Eldredge only nods. “Speaking of stages, I must go back and make sure we haven’t lost all the caviar. Perhaps when you are King, you will develop a sudden allergy to dogs.” He gives a wink then disappears back into the ballroom.
Then it’s just Daniel and me, alone in the hallway.
The silence seems too heavy, so I say, “I think it’s going well.”
“Yeah, I just need to rescue every royal official’s pet,” he says with an empty laugh. Then he looks down at me. His gaze is so intense. Those dark eyes hold me still. “You were fearless out there.”
Because I’m with you, I want to say. “We’ve got this,” I say instead, little more than a whi
sper. “We’re a team.”
“If you say so,” he says, and his finger drifts up to play with the loose curl dangling around my face.
“You know I’m always right.” I can’t help it—I lean into his hand, and I feel his fingers drift across my chin. His fingertips are rough. I know he’s always doing things with his hands—cooking, fixing things around his house, riding that crazy motorcycle of his. But he’s never touched me before. And for the first time ever, it feels like he’s really seeing me. Madison. More than just his trainer. More than his friend.
His teammate.
His girl…
With my high heels, I only have to pop up on my toes ever so slightly, and my lips will be right by his. His hand grips my face harder now, and I don’t even care that he’s probably messing up my perfect bun. I just want to kiss those lips…
“Daniel Stinkachelli.”
A grating voice pierces our perfect quiet, and I tear myself away from Daniel’s grasp. I turn to see a tall, red-haired guy wearing a slim-fitting suit striding toward us, flanked by two dudes who look like frat party bros who had to get dressed up for a hazing ritual.
Daniel grits his teeth. “Lyle Worthington.”
Oh my God. This is Lyle Worthington? Eva’s betrothed?
I might think he was handsome, if I didn’t already hate him. His expression is tight, as if he’s been sucking lemons, and I notice how tiny his hands are, almost right away. They look like they belong to a baby.
“Back at it with your tricks, old sport?” Lyle says, his accent thicker and more pronounced than I’ve heard from anyone else here. I feel his slimy eyes look me up and down. “Can’t spend one day in Eldonia without finding some hussy to fondle?”
“Hey!” I protest but then Daniel steps forward.
“Don’t call her that,” he snarls.
“Oh, sorry,” Lyle says, a smile creeping up his face. He looks me up and down again. “Tart is more appropriate, I suppose.” His cronies laugh.
“Lyle, why don’t you crawl back under whatever rock you slithered out from?” Daniel yawns. “You wouldn’t want me to beat your ass like I did when we were ten.”
Lyle scoffs. “Classic. To you, every problem is just something you can fight or fuck.”
Daniel’s fists clench and I can feel his temper spiking. I put my hand on his arm. “Daniel darling,” I say. “Kings don’t lose sleep over the opinion of—” I eye Lyle up and down in the same way he did me, “—a rat.”
“King?” Lyle crosses his arms and looks to each of his goons. “Daniel Stinkachelli thinks he’s going to be king!” His eyes are like daggers. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“You better start chortling,” I say, “because there’s nothing a worm like you can do about it.”
“I’ll be King Worm soon!” Lyle says, then looks confused. “I mean, king. You’ll never take the throne, Sacachelli. You’re only half a Harwell, and the rest of you is peasant scum.”
Daniel steps closer to Lyle. “What did you call me?”
Lyle doesn’t back down. In fact, he looks quite calm. “The people don’t want you here, you ruffian. The Queen is begging me to marry Evangeline!”
“Eva doesn’t want anything to do with you,” Daniel snarls.
“Oh, just wait,” Lyle says. “Soon she’ll be begging me every night.” A filthy grin creeps up his face and his two cronies howl in delight.
I take a deep breath. I know what’s coming isn’t going to be good.
Daniel snatches Lyle up by the shoulders, wrinkling his perfectly pressed suit, and slams him against the wall. Lyle gives a petrified noise, making him squeak like the rat I pegged him for, as Daniel raises his fist back—
“Daniel!” I shoot forward and grab his raised fist. Just imagine what people would say if their future king punched out a neighboring dignitary. Daniel’s rule would be over before it’s even started. “Gentlemen,” I say very slowly, keeping eye contact with Daniel, “why don’t you take matters out on the sports field?”
Daniel’s eyes seem to clear of rage as he looks at me. Slowly, he releases Lyle and brings his fist down. “O-on the sports field…”
Lyle dusts himself off and mutters something about brutish Americans as he returns to his cronies. “On the sports field, you say? Well, that’s a fine idea. Why don’t I organize a polo match? Then we can see who is truly a man.”
I laugh. “Polo? Really, Lyle, I thought a man of your stature would be a bit more adventurous.” I narrow my eyes at him. “What about…hockey?”
Lyle crosses his arms and tsks. “Hockey is a barbaric game. Besides, you need a team.”
“I have a team,” Daniel says. “Do you have the guts?”
Lyle looks behind him to his friends. “We’re not afraid of you and the scum you’ve brought with you.”
“Great,” Daniel says, grinning like a fox. “First thing tomorrow. The ice rink.”
“Four versus four,” Lyle says, eyes shining. “Get ready to eat my ice, Suckachelli.”
“You’re gonna eat MY ice, Wimpington.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I say, grabbing Daniel’s arms. “Will both of you get some new insults by tomorrow? Let’s go.”
Daniel and Lyle don’t stop glaring at each other until I’ve pulled Daniel around the corner. Then I turn to him. “You know everything Eva told you about how kings have to be benevolent and dignified?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, tomorrow,” I say, “you forget all that and kick that Lyle Weaklington’s ass.”
Chapter Nine
Daniel
This doesn’t feel right. Everything in this arena is brand new, from the floors to the walls to every single seat in the stands. Hell, even the Plexiglas barely has any scuffs.
I was seven years old when I first got serious about hockey. When I had come to Eldonia for the summer, I’d asked everyone in the castle if there was an ice rink in town. The best answer I got was along the lines of, “Not one worth mentioning”. But all I needed to hear was that there was one. I made Eldredge drive me to it, right away.
When we’d arrived, I remember thinking we had to be in the wrong place. It was a rundown hunk of bricks. The paint was chipped, there were cracks in the sidewalks outside, and the door was near impossible to open. The cashier inside had seemed genuinely surprised to have visitors.
But it was an ice rink! And even a beat-up old rink was a better place to be than in the castle. Eldredge and I laced up our skates and headed onto the ice. Yeah, it was super bumpy, and the rotten benches must have been a safety hazard, but still, it was a rink. It was weird—absolutely everything in Eldonia was nicer than we’d had back home in Long Island. The crystal plates, the shiny silverware, the lush beds, the fancy clothes…but the rink was a disaster area.
Not that it really mattered to me. It still became my favorite place to spend time, the only place I wasn’t on display.
I shake my head to return to the present. The arena is air-conditioned (another new feature) and I let the cool air blow away the sweat from the summer heat outside as I walk through the main lobby. This is the first time I’ve been in the arena without my father. I pause in front of a glass display box.
My father had always given me really amazing birthday presents. When I was twelve, he sent my whole hockey team to a NHL game. At my fourteenth, he organized a meet-and-greet with my favorite NHL player. But last year, for my sixteenth birthday…he’d given me the best gift of all.
Dad had asked me to come to Eldonia earlier than I usually do. He said he wanted me to be in the country for my birthday. I had been really peeved, mostly because the ice rink was closed, and I didn’t want to be in Eldonia at all, let alone without being able to play hockey. But Dad always got what he wanted.
It was late in the evening on the night before my birthday, and Dad told me to come with him. There was a car waiting for us. It was so weird—I couldn’t remember the last time, or any time, that Dad and I had done something togeth
er, just the two of us.
The car drove us through town and stopped in front of the arena. It was closed, and I remember saying something snarky to him. But he just ordered me to get out of the car.
Dad pulled out the keys to the arena, then he opened the door, and turned on the lights. My jaw dropped. There was fresh paint on every wall, a brand-new concession stand, and gorgeous untouched ice. And on the rink, itself, there was a pile of presents waiting for me. All brand-new top of the line hockey gear, just the kind I’d wanted.
“Happy sixteenth birthday, Daniel,” my father had said.
I’d wanted to hug him, but I was too nervous, so I think I just smiled, and said “So are we skating?”
When my father said he didn’t have skates, I hopped over the counter, and got a pair from the back. I thought I might get him out there for half an hour or so, but we skated all night. The King of Eldonia was a natural.
I feel a presence come up behind me and Madison places a hand on my shoulder. “What are you looking at?”
I stare into the glass display case. There’s a news article on the refurbishment, as well as a picture of Dad and me cutting the red tape. It was his last public appearance before he died. “My dad refurbished the entire arena for me.”
Madison smiles and looks at all the photos in the glass case. “Is that Princess Eva skating?”
I look at the picture of me holding onto Eva as she attempts to glide. “Yeah, we were all together that day.”
“This place is super nice,” Madison says. “Your father must have known how much you loved hockey.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I guess he knew some part of me, after all.”
When Madison doesn’t say anything, I look down at her. Her eyes are hidden behind a wave of black hair, and her shoulders are slumped. “What’s wrong?”
“It makes me wonder,” she says quietly, “if my parents would do the same.”
I wrap an arm around her and pull her tight to my side. “I guess parents just don’t always show their love in the clearest ways.”