by Ember Casey
I leave my room and begin walking down the corridor with her.
She hooks her arm through mine. “I saw how he looked at you when you came home from that ghastly trip, Victoria.”
I lift a brow, but don’t turn to look at her. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean.” She’s quiet for a moment, not speaking again until we make our way outside.
We start to walk toward the smaller buildings in the distance. “You know, Colette and my lady’s maid are quite close.”
I don’t say anything, but it’s pretty obvious where this conversation is going.
“And I think it’s positively delightful that Andrew has taken a liking to you, Victoria. You’ve always been so kind to my mother and she simply adores you. And you’ve always been very fair to me and to Leopold in your stories.” She stops suddenly, turning to me. “I’m not sure that Andrew is the brother of mine I would have chosen for you.” She grins, lifting a brow playfully. “I would have likely chosen William.”
I smile. “I don’t think I would have chosen any of them.” My smile falls. “I hope that it doesn’t sound like I’ve somehow chosen Andrew. Because that is not how it is at all. He hired me to write a news story and after our plane went down…” My voice chokes a little at talking about the ordeal. “After that, he decided it was time for him to get married.”
“So I’ve heard. My mother and father were having quite the row about it this evening. If I might be so bold as to say so, I think Andrew is an idiot.” Her grin widens. “And if you like, you may use that as a quote in your story about his search for a bride.”
I nod, trying not to laugh. “Oh, I’m sure he would love that.”
She laughs. “He probably wouldn’t notice. He rarely notices a thing when it comes to me. I’ve spent much of my life trying to get my eldest brother’s attention, so if a quote like that will finally allow me to accomplish that goal, I would say it will be worth every bit of his disappointment in me.” Sophia turns back onto the path, hooking her arm around mine again. “What I want to show you is just up here.”
We walk to a well-lit building, stopping in front of it.
“I was out for a walk and I saw the lights on, so I came over. When I saw the two of them, I thought about going around the back to turn off the main electrical breaker and make them find their way out in the pitch darkness—the gymnasium doesn’t have any backup lighting and the windows are tinted, so they wouldn’t get any of the light from outside, either.” She laughs. “But then I remembered what you told me when we met…” Her smile falls a little. “I suppose I also wondered if you had shared that information about yourself with Andrew.”
I’m only barely listening, watching the two men with their épées. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that Andrew might know how to fence—not that he would have shared anything like that with me. And definitely not that I would have shared anything about my own history of participating in the sport with him.
“I think you might…oh, how do you say it in America?” Her smile widens. “Kick his ass?” She nods. “I thought that would be a much better way to embarrass my eldest brother than watching him try to find his way out of a dark building.”
I smile, but I know there’s no way I can go in there. He wouldn’t believe me—or probably care—even if I did.
But I don’t get a chance to wonder—Sophia links her arm with mine again and practically drags me into the gymnasium.
She stops us in front of some practice equipment, motioning for me to put on the gear.
I shake my head. “I can’t. Really. I haven’t touched one of these things in seven years. That part of my life is…” I’m almost shocked at the near-sob that comes from my throat. “Over.”
She pulls down a chest protector and hands it to me before she pulls a mask from the shelf.
I don’t even know what I’m doing—I slide the thing over my head, fastening it around my waist and take the mask from her. I shake my head again, keeping my voice low. “What if you and I—”
“Oh, no. Father would never let me near the fencing lessons he made my brothers take. Something about a bullshit tradition from the eleventh or twelfth century, no doubt.” She smiles again. “I imagine William might be a better match for you.” By the way her smile falls a bit and her eyebrows lift after she says it, I can see that the double meaning was every bit intended.
“I imagine he would be.”
She nods. “Shall I ask Andrew to leave with me so that you may engage William?”
I shake my head slowly. I already know which brother I want.
She looks into my eyes for a long moment. Her voice drops to almost a whisper. “I knew by the way you looked at each other when you arrived home yesterday.”
I say nothing—there’s not really much I can say. I’ve been denying my feelings since…I can’t remember when. I’m pretty sure I realized something was flittering inside me when I sloshed into the water to try to find him after the plane went down—something was definitely there inside me when I turned around and saw him walking back from the forest with the armful of branches. And it was much more than relief at not seeing him floating face-down in the water.
I wonder when it was for him?
I could kick myself for thinking that. Even if he does fence—even if this is something we might actually have in common—it still doesn’t matter. He’s still going to be choosing noblewomen tomorrow to be the contestants for his little game show.
I set the mask down for a second, tucking my hair into a makeshift bun before I pick it up and slide it over my head. Sophia pulls me toward the door to the main gym and swings it open. It’s a room built for fencing practice, just like in the gym I practiced in every day when I was in college. There’s more practice gear on the far wall.
It takes a moment for the men to notice us, but they stop what they’re doing. Andrew pulls his mask up, cocking his head in confusion.
Sophia grins. “William, I wonder if you might come and help me with something? It’s urgent.”
I’m not sure why William believes Sophia, given her history, but he pulls off his mask and chest guard and walks over to hang them up before walking over to us. He hands the épée he’s been using to me and I walk in as the other two walk out.
I imagine they’ll be standing in front of the tinted windows in a few moments, but I don’t care. I walk over and take my place across from Andrew.
He still hasn’t flipped his mask back down and I can see the confusion on his face. “Victoria?”
I flip my mask up, saluting him with my épée, though I say nothing else to acknowledge his bewilderment.
He shakes his head and holds up his own épée in salute.
We both flip down our masks at the same time. “En-garde,” I call and begin my attack. Andrew doesn’t even take a defensive posture and I touch the middle of his chest with my weapon. “Point.”
“What are you doing, Victoria?”
I say nothing—I merely take a different line and attack again, scoring easily. “Point.”
He straightens, flipping his mask up to reveal his face. “You can’t fence.”
My jaw tightens and I glare at him through my mask. “On the contrary, Your Highness, it would appear that you can’t fence.”
“I don’t understand.” His brow furrows deeply. “What are you doing?”
“Attempting to fence. Considering you haven’t even taken a defensive posture, Your Highness, I think I’m the one who should be asking what you are doing.”
“Women don’t fence, Victoria.” He lifts his mask off and shakes his head.
I motion at him with my épée. “Put that mask back on and I’ll show you that women most certainly do fence.”
He frowns, but puts the mask back on and lifts his weapon into an attack position. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Hm. I think that maybe you don’t know what you’re doing.”
&n
bsp; He shakes his head again and makes a move to attack. It’s a weak move—I easily parry and make my own attack, scoring another point.
“Point to you, Victoria.” He almost growls the words before he takes another attack position. He moves more forcefully this time, but again, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before and is pretty amateurish, considering.
I barely have to engage him before I score another point.
He lowers his épée and looks at me for a moment before he pulls his mask off. “It would seem I owe you another apology this evening, Ms. Simpson.” He makes a sweeping gesture with his free hand as he bows deeply. He straightens after a moment. “It would appear that you do know what you’re doing.”
I lower my weapon and pull off my mask, looking across at him.
“Do you care to explain, Victoria?”
“Explain what?”
He gives me the smallest of smiles. “How you have come to know the pastime of fencing—”
“The sport of fencing, I’m sure you mean.” I lift a brow. “My uncle was an Olympic fencer. He taught me everything I know, which was enough for me to get a scholarship to Northwestern. So I could go to one of the best journalism schools in America. And it might have been enough for me to qualify for the Olympics myself if…” I stop myself from saying anything else. I’ve said too much already, and that is not a story that I will be sharing with Andrew.
“If...what?” The same confused look has come back over his face.
“If nothing. It just didn’t work out, that’s all.” He doesn’t need to know the rest of that story. I finished my degree and that’s all that really matters about that particular issue.
“I see.” He stares at me for another long moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what? That I used to fence in college? How would I have worked that into the conversation, Andrew? Somewhere between which noblewoman will make you the best wife and why journalists are detestable vermin?”
He shakes his head and walks over to the wall where the other practice equipment is held and sets his mask down on the shelf before he hangs his weapon up. After he pulls off his chest guard he turns to me. “You should have told me.”
I roll my eyes. “Why? So you could tell me that commoners don’t belong in the sport? That because of its long history, fencing is the domain of royals? That—”
He narrows the space between us in an instant and pulls me into his arms, even though mine are still full with my equipment. “You should have told me because it’s something I would have wanted to know.”
“And how am I supposed to know what you want to know, Andrew? How am I supposed to know anything you want in the way of brides or—”
I don’t get another word out before his lips press against mine and he kisses me as hard as I’ve ever been kissed.
Andrew
For the briefest of moments, I’m afraid she might pull away from me. But then I hear the crash of her practice equipment hitting the floor, and before I can ask her if she’s all right, her arms are around my neck. I kick the equipment away from us and pull her closer, crushing her against my body. Her mouth opens further beneath mine, and I back her toward the wall beside us.
She surprised me when she revealed she could fence. What more don’t I know about her? What secrets has she yet to reveal to me? The prospect of discovering those secrets excites me more than I want to admit.
She pulls her mouth away from mine. “Don’t think you’ve escaped having a proper fencing match with me.”
“I fear I would find myself outmatched,” I say, tightening my grip on her waist. “But perhaps you could teach me a thing or two.”
I don’t give her time to respond. Instead, I kiss her again, pressing my body fully against hers once more.
It’s only been a couple of days since we last kissed on the plane, but it feels like an eternity. I barely restrained my desire for her last night, and now my hunger comes forward in a rush. I groan deep in my throat as my hands slide up her sides and over the sides of her breasts.
Why bother with a bed? I should take her right here. Right against this wall. The way she’s kissing me, I don’t think she’d have any objections.
Suddenly, there’s a cough and a laugh behind us. Both Victoria and I freeze.
“I thought you said things weren’t like that between the two of you,” William says, the amusement clear in his voice.
I step away from Victoria and turn to face my brother. Sophia is still with him, and she’s clearly trying not to laugh.
I straighten my clothes. “Can’t anyone get some privacy in this damn palace?”
“Don’t look at me—I was practicing alone before you lot showed up,” William says.
“You knew we weren’t far,” Sophia adds. “Don’t blame us for the fact that you two got caught.” Her smile widens. “Of course, if you’re asking for privacy, I’m sure William and I can leave you to it—”
“Not necessary,” I bark. “It shouldn’t have happened anyway.” Not where anyone could—and did—see. I’m about to conduct a very public search for a wife. It won’t do to have half the household knowing that I’m having any sort of sexual feelings for the woman handling the press. Should my father get word...I can’t imagine exactly what he’d say. This is reckless. Foolish. Unfitting of a man in my position, especially one looking to marry for the good of Montovia.
Behind me, I hear Victoria make a sound of disgust. When I turn back toward her, she pushes past me and out the door before I have the chance to stop her.
What the hell was that for? When I glance back at Sophia, though, she gives me a look that suggests I should know exactly what I did. I don’t pause to ask her. Instead, I hurry outside after Victoria.
She’s already far ahead of me on the gravel path.
“Victoria!” I call. “Victoria, wait!”
I stride after her, and though she doesn’t stop, she seems to slow slightly.
“Victoria,” I say again. I’m finally close enough that I can reach out and grab her arm. “Why did you storm out of there so—”
She spins on me. “Why does it matter? It shouldn’t have happened, right?”
I frown. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I think that’s exactly what you meant. And I think you’re right, too. It shouldn’t have happened. Not here. Not on the plane ride here. Nowhere. It’s all a mistake.”
“Not all a mistake,” I say, stepping closer to her. “You can’t kiss me like you kissed me in there and then tell me there’s not something very right between us.”
“It’s called lust. And nine times out of ten, it is a mistake.” She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have come out here—”
“You should have. And I’m glad you did.”
“You didn’t sound very glad just now.” She crosses her arms. “Tell me—if you don’t think this is a mistake, then why are you so opposed to your siblings knowing there’s something going on between us?”
“I’m not opposed—”
“You told your brother nothing had happened.”
“So you’d prefer me to tell the entire palace that we’ve slept together every night since the crash? Or that on the airplane, if Christoph hadn’t interrupted us, I would have—”
“Are you just ashamed of this because I’m a commoner?”
“I’m trying to protect you. Rumors spread very quickly in this palace, Victoria. And given the circumstances of our business arrangement, I thought we might conduct ourselves with some delicacy.”
“Don’t worry, I get it,” she says. “And given the circumstances of our business arrangement, I think that’s my cue to go.”
“Victoria—”
“Goodnight, Andrew. If we’re to proceed with our business arrangement, then I request that all other arrangements stop immediately. I swear, if you show up at my door tonight, I’ll be on the first plane home in the morning.”
From the tone of her voice, she means it.
“Goodnight.” She turns and marches back toward the palace, leaving me standing alone on the gravel path.
Needless to say, I sleep little that night.
Part of me hopes her night is just as difficult, that tomorrow she’ll find me and beg me to sleep with her again. But the other part of me chastises myself for such selfishness—and in truth, I wish no pain or hardship on Victoria. Quite the opposite, actually.
After I shower, I survey myself in the mirror. The dark circles are quite visible under my eyes, but there’s nothing I can do about that. I have multiple counts of business to attend to today, including a meeting with my father to discuss the selection of my bride. I know I should probably invite Victoria to the meeting as well, but I’m not sure how receptive she’ll be.
She made it clear last night that she’s only here for the story now, I remind myself. She should be there for these meetings.
I call for a footman and scribble down a quick message:
* * *
Meeting with my father to discuss my marriage in an hour. I’d like you to be there, if you’re available. If so, please meet me outside his office at ten til the hour.
* * *
I frown at the message as I lift my pen from the paper—part of me hates to send her something so formal, so impersonal, but I have a feeling it’s the only way to get her to agree. When the footman arrives, I fold up the piece of royal stationary and hand it to him.
“Please deliver this to my guest,” I tell him. “No response is necessary.” If she comes, she comes.
The thought gives me little comfort. And in spite of my efforts to the contrary, I find my mind wandering back to Victoria constantly as I continue to prepare for my day.
If she doesn’t show up, I have my answer about her. But if she does… If she does, there’s hope. Right now, hope is all I have.
The hour creeps by at an abominably slow pace, but finally, it’s time for the meeting with my father. I run my hands down my front, smoothing my clothes, then leave my room.