The Wicked Prince

by Nicole Burnham

  “Sounds like Remy,” Walter Tagaloa said, his voice low as he followed Alessandro. “He hasn’t had a nightmare like this in a long time.”

  It took Alessandro mere seconds to spot the terrified child. Just enough light streamed in from the room’s high windows to illuminate the tangle of bedding around Remy, who was curled up in a ball at the head of his bed, shaking.

  “He doesn’t know where he is,” Johnny whispered from a nearby bunk as Alessandro passed. The older boy was sitting up, his covers pushed to his waist. “I told him it was okay, but I think he was still asleep. He screamed again and then started crying.”

  “Thanks, Johnny.”

  “I’ll get the other boys settled if you can handle Remy,” Walter said in a low voice, his gaze sweeping the room. Several of the other boys were sitting up or propped on their elbows, their attention focused on Remy.

  “You sure? He doesn’t know me that well.” Alessandro had never dealt with a child in such a state.

  “He knows you like Humphrey. He trusts you. He’ll calm down if you sit with him for a few minutes. He might be embarrassed afterward, but the other kids won’t tease him. They understand.”

  “All right.” Alessandro hadn’t spent much time with one-on-one with Walter, but Alessandro’s instincts told him Walter was trustworthy when it came to matters regarding the kids. Everyone at the shelter liked Walter a great deal, and given that Walter taught math—a subject many of the kids claimed to hate—their affection for him spoke volumes.

  “Hey, Remy,” Alessandro said as he approached Remy’s bunk. “Did you have a nightmare?”

  Remy stared at Alessandro with wide, panicked eyes, but said nothing. Slowly, so he wouldn’t upset the boy, Alessandro sat on the bunk’s edge. Remy tucked his feet even closer to his body, then his jaw trembled.

  “I had nightmares when I was your age, so I know how real they feel. Like you can’t catch your breath and your heart is going to explode. But everything’s fine now, I promise.”

  Tears filled Remy’s eyes and his jaw shook harder. Not the reaction Alessandro was hoping for. Remy’s gaze went to the neighboring bunks and he seemed to shrink into his bedding, as if he wanted to disappear.

  Alessandro leaned in closer and whispered, “If you’re worried about the other boys, I guarantee, they’ve all had nightmares, too. Everyone does, from time to time.”

  “They think I’m a baby. I didn’t mean to scream.”

  The blanket muffled the words so Alessandro barely heard them, but they made him smile. “Let me tell you something. I have four brothers, a sister, two half-brothers, and a half-sister. I know a bit about what other kids think, and they don’t think that.”

  Remy said nothing, but looked miserable. Alessandro tried again. “I have a twin who’s four minutes older than I am. When we were kids, he lorded it over me all the time, as if being older automatically made him smarter and stronger. His teasing could be vicious. Worse, because I was a daredevil, I was always the one who got into trouble at home and in school, which meant everyone believed he was better…me included. But when I had nightmares, he was the first to come to my bed and tell me it was okay. He knew how scary they can be, and how real they feel. If a boy who took every opportunity to make fun of me did that, I have to believe that the boys here—who all are your friends—will act the same way.”

  Remy didn’t look convinced, but he relaxed enough that Alessandro could see Humphrey’s tawny head jutting out of the sheets near Remy’s shoulder.

  “Well, look who’s here.” Alessandro rubbed the camel’s head. “He looks like he didn’t sleep very well, either.”

  “He’s a stuffed animal. He doesn’t sleep.”

  “You know him better than I do, so I’ll take your word for it.” Alessandro sat back, unsure what to do next. Remy wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon, that was certain. Around them, the room had quieted. No sounds came from outside the building, though he assumed Frannie was still up and about. She hadn’t stopped by the dining hall at the end of homework time as she usually did, but she always seemed to be the last one to turn in at night.

  He put a hand on the lump that was Remy’s foot. Heat radiated through the blanket. “Want to take a quick walk around outside and get some fresh air? I think it’ll help me sleep. Since you’re awake, it’d be nice to have you to keep me company.”

  “We’re not allowed out after bedtime. We have to follow the schedule.”

  “I’m going to give you a pass. If Miss Frannie stops us, I’ll take the blame. I’m good at taking the blame.” He put his hand alongside his mouth and in a conspiratorial tone said, “Humphrey can come, too.”

  Remy sucked his lower lip into his mouth, thinking. After a few breaths, he whispered, “I’m in my jammies.”

  “So? I am, too.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I’m in shorts. Close enough.”

  “You don’t have a shirt.”

  “I’ll get one.” Alessandro frowned. “Are you going to come or not?”

  Remy nodded, then slid from the bed and wiggled his toes into his slippers, which were nestled beside the bunk. Alessandro wasn’t sure what he’d say to Remy, but figured a stroll around the compound might help the boy forget whatever images populated his sleep. Alessandro signaled Remy to stop and wait, then retrieved his shirt and shoes from his room. As he led Remy outside, he noticed Frannie standing to one side of the bunk room’s entrance, her back against the wall. Walter was by her side, surveying the room. She gave Alessandro an understanding smile before leaning over to confer with Walter.

  She must’ve come when Remy screamed, but Alessandro had been so focused on Remy he hadn’t noticed. Nor had he seen Chloe, whom he spied walking away from the bunkhouse, in the direction of the nurse’s station, as he and Remy began their loop around the compound. Once the door closed behind Chloe, the night stilled. Only the low calls of nocturnal birds and the distant wash of the Pacific could be heard. Lights strung under the eaves of the buildings provided enough light for walking, but didn’t interfere with the glorious display of stars overhead.

  He wanted to comfort Remy, but wasn’t sure what to say, so he kept quiet.

  “Chloe says that you’re a prince. A real one, not like the movies. Is that true?”

  It wasn’t a question Alessandro expected. He glanced down, but the boy’s gaze was focused straight ahead.

  “She told you that?”

  “I heard her talking to Mira about it.” He kicked a dried up piece of palm frond that’d made its way into the compound. “Is it true?”

  He glanced at Remy and wondered just how many of the adults’ conversations the kids overheard, given their tight living quarters. “It’s true. But I’m not a prince on Kilakuru. Here, I’m no different than anyone else.”

  Remy shifted Humphrey from one arm to the other as he contemplated that. After they passed the nurse’s station, he asked, “If you’re a prince and you have a lot of brothers and sisters at home, why’d you come here?”

  Alessandro shrugged. Since his arrival, he’d asked himself the same question a dozen times a day…though not quite in the way Remy did. “I wanted to do something different.”

  “If I had a bunch of brothers and sisters, I don’t think I’d leave. I think it’d make them sad.”

  The little boy sounded matter-of-fact, but Alessandro’s heart broke for Remy. The kid had no one. No parents, no siblings, and apparently no uncles or aunts…at least no uncles or aunts who wanted to take him in. “You know, families don’t have to be related. It might not feel like it, but you have a family here.”

  “No, I don’t. Not like most of the other kids. My dad died. He drowned.”

  The force of that simple statement struck Alessandro like a hammer blow to the chest. It took effort to keep his voice steady as he replied, “I heard about your dad. I’m sorry. He sounds like he was a good man and he loved you more than anyone else on Earth. Miss Frannie told me that lot of people li
ked to dive with him. They came from all over the world.”

  “He was really good at it,” Remy said. “He used to take me on his boat sometimes. We’d go snorkeling and he’d find sea cucumbers for me to hold. He could always find them.”

  “You like sea cucumbers?”

  “They’re weird. They feel all bumpy. You can’t tell which end is the head and which is the rump.”

  Alessandro smiled. “Maybe Miss Frannie will let me take you snorkeling with the other kids one of these days. I’m probably not as good as your dad at finding sea cucumbers, but if I do, you can show everyone how to hold them. You think?”

  “Maybe.”

  Alessandro heard the no in the polite response. Remy wanted his father or no one. Alessandro understood, but it frustrated him, too, knowing he couldn’t do anything to make Remy feel better.

  They passed the gazebo and approached the boys’ bunkhouse. “Ready to go inside?”

  Remy shook his head.

  “One more lap, then. Any more than that and you’ll be too tired for school tomorrow.” Alessandro feared he’d also be too awake to fall asleep, no matter how exhausted his body and brain.

  “Why do you have so many brothers and sisters?”

  Alessandro laughed. “That’s a question I’d have to ask my parents. I didn’t know about my half-sister and two half-brothers until recently. Even if I didn’t count them, six kids are plenty for one family.”

  “I bet when you were little your parents got real tired.”

  “They probably did. But they love us all, just like the teachers here love you and the other kids.” He looked sideways at Remy. “That’s what I meant when I said that you have a family here.”

  Remy didn’t hide his skepticism. “I think we make you tired.”

  Alessandro gave Remy a quick rub on top of the head. “Yes, you do. But it’s a good tired. Like when you’re tired after kickball or when you’ve played a long game of tag.”

  Remy frowned but said nothing more as they circled back toward the bunkhouse. They entered silently to keep from waking the others, then Remy carefully placed his slippers beside his bunk and crawled under his sheets with Humphrey gripped tightly to his chest. The camel’s nose poked over the top of the sheets and its big eyes appeared to survey the room.

  Noting that Johnny was watching from his bunk, Alessandro didn’t tuck in Remy—he sensed that Remy wanted the older boy to see him as tougher than that—but raised his hand to wish the little boy good night and turned toward his own room.

  Alessandro smoothed his hand over his jaw as he entered the rear hallway, frustration twisting his gut. He felt so powerless to help the boy. So incompetent. He couldn’t bring back Remy’s dad. Couldn’t stop Remy from having nightmares. Couldn’t stop Remy from believing that the older kids were judging him.

  And Remy was right about Alessandro’s exhaustion level. It bothered him deeply that it showed.

  How could he adapt to the rigors of climbing in the Himalayas or manage the lack of sleep that accompanied long weeks carousing in Cannes and Ibiza, yet struggle to adjust to life at Sunrise Shelter?

  The night he’d entertained Sylvia and Claudine on board the Libertà, he’d awakened feeling unsettled. He’d realized that he missed the feeling that he could rise to a challenge. That he could make a difference. He’d never experienced it while showing up for charitable events with his family; he’d only experienced it while standing in for his brother.

  He’d agreed to come to Kilakuru not only to prove that he could, but to recapture that feeling of accomplishment. But now…now he felt both unsettled and useless.

  What the hell was he doing? He didn’t make a difference to these kids. Not a meaningful one.

  “How’s everything?”

  Alessandro started at the sound of Frannie’s voice. He drank in the sight of her standing in the bunkhouse’s back hall, steps from his bedroom door. A few tendrils of hair had escaped her ponytail, tempting him to smooth them away from her cheeks. She was so close he could see the glint of the tiny gold studs in her ears.

  “Alessandro?”

  His exhaustion fell away and his heart thundered in his chest. “Better.”

  Chapter 8

  A slow, alluring grin lifted Frannie’s cheeks at his delayed response.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, hooking her fingers into the front pockets of her shorts. “Walter and I came here to talk so we wouldn’t disturb the boys.”

  “Walter went back to bed?”

  “Just now. I was about to leave.” She angled her gaze in the direction of the main room. “Remy hasn’t had a nightmare like that in a long time. It scares some of the boys when he howls like that.”

  “It scared me. Believe it or not, I was dead asleep.”

  Alessandro leaned one shoulder against the wall and folded his arms. His Old World Sarcaccian upbringing put him in the habit of being well-groomed when in female company, yet as disheveled as he knew he looked right now—unshaven, in shorts and a T-shirt, with his hair still damp—her presence relaxed him. He wasn’t sure why, and it bothered him.

  Even more disturbing, in the three weeks he’d lived at the shelter he’d discovered that Frannie was as much a stickler for rules and schedules as he’d suspected. He’d always been one to chafe against rules—the prime reason he escaped the palace whenever he could—but here in Kilakuru, Frannie’s regimented system didn’t bother him in the slightest. In fact, as he studied her now and realized it was the first time in days he hadn’t seen her with a clipboard within arm’s reach, he found that he was beginning to appreciate her methods.

  “Walter said you were great with him.”

  He huffed. “Walter’s extremely generous.”

  “From what I saw, Remy was agreeable to the notion of a walk.”

  “I doubt it helped. In fact, I may have made it worse.” Especially if Remy lay in bed contemplating their conversation, though he supposed it was an improvement over whatever plagued the boy’s sleep.

  “I don’t believe that.” She placed her hand on his forearm and smiled in encouragement. In the semidarkness of the hallway, the heartfelt reassurance took on an air of intimacy. Frannie must’ve sensed it, too, because she quickly withdrew her fingers. “I’m sorry I was delayed. If I’d been here, I’m sure I would’ve agreed with Walter’s assessment of the situation.”

  “Whether that’s true or not, it’s nice of you to say.”

  “I heard enough of your conversation with Remy to know you said exactly what he needed to hear. Especially regarding the attitude of the other boys.”

  “You heard my bullied-by-Vittorio story?”

  “Most of it.”

  Frannie’s index fingers flexed in the front pockets of her shorts, then she glanced in the direction of the now-silent main room. He realized that she was nervous. Instead of saying she would’ve agreed with Walter, she’d had to add assessment of the situation. And before that, it was agreeable to the notion. Just as when she’d spoken to him in the library, she covered by using more words—and bigger words—than necessary.

  What struck him was that he had a case of nerves, too. He’d had little time with her since his arrival, and they hadn’t been alone since she took him on the tour of the grounds that first day. He frequently caught glimpses of her throughout the day as she moved from building to building, checking in with Chloe, the nursery attendants, and the teachers. Each day, he looked forward to her evening pass through the dining hall, when she inquired about the kids’ homework or participated in board games and the little ones’ story time. It was the one occasion he could guarantee he’d speak to her each day.

  Tonight he’d caught himself stealing looks at the door every time it opened, wondering when Frannie would arrive. A wave of disappointment flooded through him when Tommy told the kids to pack up their belongings and head for the bunkhouses to prepare for showers and bed.

  He couldn’t remember the last time a woman’s failur
e to appear left him disheartened. If he’d ever felt that way.

  Now that he stood alone with Frannie in the hallway, everything about her seemed magnified. The soft skin along her cheekbones. The sweet upward curve at the outer edge of her eyes as she studied him.

  “You must have had a busy day,” he said. “I didn’t see you after dinner.”

  “The marina called. Your shipment arrived, so Chloe and I made a couple of runs to pick up the boxes. We just unloaded them in my office.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and sent a silent prayer of gratitude skyward. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  “Something essential in there?”

  She had no idea. “You wouldn’t mind if I opened one of those boxes now, would you?”

  “I don’t see why not, as long as you have—”

  He was out of the hallway before she finished the sentence.

  * * *

  Frannie couldn’t answer Chloe’s question about whether or not Prince Charming snored. She was fairly certain, however, that Chloe would agree that it didn’t matter, given that the man had a torso worthy of a Renaissance sculptor’s chisel. Any woman awakened by his snoring would be rewarded by the view.

  When Frannie spotted Alessandro working shirtless on the gazebo roof last week, it had been at too great a distance to observe the perfection of his olive skin or the dips and curves that defined his shoulders. She hadn’t noticed the subtle ripple of muscle that crossed his abdomen. She’d seen the lean waist, the breadth of his shoulders, the way his back worked as he swung the hammer. But when she’d entered the bunkhouse and saw Alessandro sitting on the edge of Remy’s bed with the moonlight angling over his upper body like a heavenly spotlight, she’d nearly gasped out loud.

  Beside her, Chloe had gaped at Alessandro, shook her head, then uttered, “Remy’s in capable hands…I’m going to take a cold shower,” before she slipped out the bunkhouse door.