Royal Date

by Sariah Wilson

  “I’ve seen a lot of Christmas trees today.”

  “No, our Christmas tree.”

  She brought me into a room that seemed unlike the others. This was a lived-in room. Full of modern and antique furniture, decorated in greens and creams, but I could tell this was where the family gathered to spend time together. There was a giant flat screen with video game consoles and controllers. Large, overstuffed, comfortable-looking couches dotted the room. I saw dolls and a dollhouse alongside one wall.

  And in the corner of one room, the largest Christmas tree I’d ever seen. Like Rockefeller Center big. Unlike the other pristine trees I’d seen in the palace, it had both white and multicolored lights. There were no delicate, elegant, matching ornaments here. Just a huge hodgepodge of all different types of ornaments and clumps of tinsel.

  “Every year we get a new ornament with our name and the year on it.”

  I touched one of the ornaments and turned it over. Nico’s, from when he was a year old. It was hard to imagine him as a baby. “It must be nice to have traditions like that.” I had no traditions. Nothing to tie me to a place or a family. Nothing I was a part of.

  “We have lots of traditions,” she said, taking me by the hand. I decided to leave my self-pity party behind.

  She led me to a pair of large wooden doors and pushed them open. I heard the queen’s voice before I saw her. The king was lying in a hospital bed, and the queen sat to his left, reading a book to him. She stopped and closed the book when we entered.

  He had black hair shot through with silver, and brown eyes that he fixed on me as soon as we walked in. He looked skinny and a bit deflated. He had Nico’s nose and the same strong jawline.

  “Papa, this is my new best friend, Kat.”

  Serafina climbed onto the bed and nestled into her father’s shoulder. He turned his head to kiss the top of her scalp.

  “It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” the king said, turning his attention back to me. His accent was more pronounced than his children’s. “I have heard a great deal about you.”

  Was that good or bad? And what should I say back? Usually I would be like, “Yeah, me too,” but I’d heard hardly anything about him since I’d arrived.

  “Please, have a seat.” I took an empty chair on the right side of his bed, across from the queen. She gave me a serene and sweet smile. I nodded at her and smiled back.

  “Aria? Would you give us a moment?”

  The queen stood up, putting the book on the nightstand next to his bed. She told Serafina to come with her, and the little girl kissed her father’s cheek before leaving with her mother.

  I had to admit, I was more than a little freaked out. What did the king want? As I watched the queen leave, my eyes settled on a large, black, motorized wheelchair. I looked back at him, wondering.

  “I am quadriplegic,” the king said. “My body has a difficult time leaving this bed, but my mind still can. My wife spends a great deal of time every day reading to me. I know she has other responsibilities, but she insists. I know she must tire of always reading to me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” was all I could think to say.

  “I’ve had a few years to adjust.”

  “Does the wheelchair not work?”

  That surprised him. “It works very well. Why?”

  “Oh. I was just wondering why you would stay in here if you had a wheelchair.” I had seen the elevators. The rooms were all enormous. He could maneuver easily. “Don’t get me wrong, this is a very nice room, but if it were me, I’d hate to be stuck.”

  Maybe he didn’t want to be pushed around everywhere. “Is it self-operated?”

  The king didn’t respond. I raised my eyebrows in alarm. Had I offended him somehow? I didn’t mean to. Typical me though, saying out loud whatever thought crossed through my brain.

  The uncomfortable silence stretched between us as he studied me. When he finally spoke, I nearly jumped out of my skin, I’d been so anxious. “So you are the young woman my son has spoken about so often.”

  I just nodded. I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or bad thing. My heart did a happy skip at the idea that Nico talked to his dad about me, but what if the king didn’t want me around Nico? Maybe he was going to tell me to stay away from him. That would seriously suck. I finally felt comfortable enough to spend time with him, and now his dad was going to forbid me from doing that?

  He continued to look at me. Irritated, I thought about offering to show him my teeth while he considered my worthiness, but I kept my crazy at bay. Right now I was just jumping to conclusions. I had no idea what he was thinking.

  “You must be careful with him,” he finally said. “He has been betrayed by women who were interested in only fame and fortune.”

  I immediately thought of Lady Claire Sutherland.

  “I don’t care about that stuff.”

  The king looked thoughtful. “You must promise me that you will be gentle with his heart.”

  I had no intention of handling any of Nico’s body parts, including his heart. Whatever there was between us, it wouldn’t last. It would be light, breezy, fun. No hearts would be harmed in the making of our film. No one would get hurt.

  But I couldn’t say no to a king. He still had that dungeon downstairs. So I smiled and said, “I promise.”

  A man dressed in white scrubs entered the room, reading a clipboard. He stopped short when he saw me and said something in Italian.

  “No, please come in, Dr. Franco. Signorina MacTaggart was just leaving.”

  I knew a dismissal when I heard one. I was more than happy to scurry out. Before I had a chance to think about what the king had said to me, what he wanted me to do, and what it might mean, Serafina appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my arm.

  “My mother has some beauty ladies here today. Let’s get a pedicure. ”

  That sounded wonderful. And just what I needed. “You are one awesome kid, you know that?”

  “I really do.”

  Chiara and the queen joined us, and we all got our fingernails and toenails done. In between the laughing, talking, and teasing, I thought about the king and his wheelchair. Was he embarrassed to use it? Was it too painful a reminder of his life before? He seemed like a proud man. I couldn’t imagine it would be easy to let other people move him from his bed to his wheelchair.

  We had an informal lunch together, just the four of us. I watched as the queen spoke so lovingly to her girls. I wondered what my life would have been like if my mother had loved me more than she loved getting high.

  The girls took me to their rooms to show them off. Despite being in a medieval castle, they were very normal girl rooms. Lots of pink and purple and hearts and boy band posters and stuffed animals. Chiara had a collection of pictures on a bulletin board ripped from fashion magazines. She told me that she wanted to design clothes someday and showed me some of her sketches. She had talent. I didn’t know about the fashion part, but she could definitely draw. Much better than I ever could. My art consisted solely of stick figures.

  After spending the entire afternoon together, the girls talked me into watching Frozen. We agreed to watch the movie in my room. I wanted to start writing down some notes about the time I’d spent with Nico. Not that I needed to, since every moment with him felt like someone had branded them onto my brain. And just thinking of him, pathetically enough, gave me the warm fuzzies.

  On our way there, Serafina stopped short. “We should have a slumber party!”

  “Yes, a slumber party!” Chiara said. “We could do each other’s hair and have facials!”

  I was kind of looking forward to getting some sleep tonight, so I didn’t find that idea too appealing.

  “I don’t know,” I said. They looked so disappointed.

  “It isn’t fair,” Serafina said in a wobbly voice. “You spent all day yesterday playing with Nico. I want to play with you too.”

  I tried to suppress the images of the kind of playing Nico and I had been doing.
Her lower lip stuck out, and her mouth was trembling. I couldn’t resist once she turned those puppy dog eyes on me. She was definitely hitting below the belt.

  “Okay. Why not?”

  Chiara offered to order dinner for us to have in my room. I couldn’t imagine a life where room service was part of my daily upbringing. The girls promised to meet me back in my room so that they could get their pajamas on.

  I changed into a soft black T-shirt and plaid flannel pajama bottoms and climbed onto my bed. Lemon had left me a note saying she had more meetings and then plans with Salvatore for that evening, which she punctuated with several exclamation marks and smiley faces.

  Serafina ran into the room wearing a nightgown that had Olaf the snowman on the front, and Chiara arrived shortly after in blue silk pajamas. She had a laptop with her that she left on the floor next to the bed. I made a mental note not to step on it.

  “Can I do your hair?” Chiara asked me.

  “Sure.”

  She started brushing while Serafina jumped on my bed. The two activities did not go well together. I was getting my head yanked all over the place.

  “Have you ever been in love?” Chiara asked me as she started what felt like a French braid.

  “Kat loves Nico,” Serafina said in between jumps.

  “I do not love Nico,” I hurried to correct her. That was the absolute last thing I needed—for his little sister to run off and tell him that I loved him.

  His teasing would be merciless and unending, I was sure.

  “Everyone loves Nico,” she replied.

  “Why do you ask?” I said to Chiara, desperate to change the subject.

  “There’s this boy at my boarding school. Ethan. He’s tall and has blond hair and dreamy hazel eyes. He’s on the rugby team. I think I might be in love with him, but I don’t think he likes me back.”

  Somebody needed to explain to the princess that a crush was not love. Something good for me to keep in mind as well.

  “How old are you exactly?” I asked.

  “Fourteen.” I had a momentary pang as I realized she was the same age I was the night I’d left home. How different our lives were that her big concern was whether a boy liked her or not and mine at that age had been where I would sleep for the night.

  “Well, why wouldn’t he like you? You’re gorgeous and royalty.”

  Chiara finished up my hair and came to sit in front of me. She crossed her legs and pulled them up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. What to say to him, how to act.”

  I was so the last person in the world to give her advice on how to get a guy.

  “If he doesn’t like you then he’s a . . . I don’t know the word in English . . . come si dice. . . ?” Serafina asked.

  “A moron?” I offered helpfully.

  “Si,” Serafina agreed. “A moron.”

  “He’s not a moron,” Chiara said in a defensive tone. “Just . . . quiet. And sweet.”

  “Why don’t you just tell him he’s your boyfriend? That’s what I did with Giovanni. I told him he was my boyfriend, and he agreed.”

  If only life could really be that simple. I tried to imagine myself informing Nico that he was now my boyfriend and didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  Problem was, I imagined he might agree the same way little Giovanni had.

  “The best advice I can give you is to just be yourself.” Had I actually just said something so clichéd? Too bad Lemon wasn’t there. She probably had a book on how to get a boy to like you.

  Chiara let out a moan at what I said and threw herself backward so that she was sprawled out on the bed.

  “Mamma says she’s very melodramastic,” Serafina told me in a stage whisper.

  “I am not melodramatic!” Chiara hit the bed with her hands and feet at the same time to punctuate her statement.

  “How about we start the movie?” I suggested.

  Serafina got the movie going while I grabbed the notepad and pen I’d left on my nightstand. I meant to write about Nico, but I kept doodling hearts and clouds in the column.

  I was only seconds away from writing “Mrs. Kat Fiorelli” all over the page. Pathetic. I set my pen down on the bed in disgust.

  Just because I was hanging out with a fourteen-year-old girl did not mean I needed to start acting like one.

  We were on our third viewing of the movie. Chiara had fallen asleep on the far side of the bed, but Serafina was still barely awake, insisting that we had to finish it. She had cuddled herself against me so that I couldn’t move.

  There was a knock on my door. “Come in,” I called out softly, not wanting to wake up Chiara.

  The door slowly opened and there stood Nico. I think my heart swelled up two more sizes. I was so unbelievably happy to see him. Like in a puppy-dogs-wrapped-up-in-rainbows-frolicking-on-marshmallow-clouds kind of way.

  His tie had been loosened, and he looked worn out. My feet itched with the urge to jump up out of the bed and run to him. I wanted to comfort him. Hug him. He looked like he’d had a hard day. The urge to be next to him, with him, both confused and surprised me.

  “Stay out, Nico,” Serafina instructed him sleepily. “You’re not invited. Girls only.”

  “I won’t come in, I promise,” Nico said, standing at the threshold. “How many times today have you watched this movie?”

  I held up three fingers.

  “You must be a saint.”

  “That’s me, Saint Kat. Patron saint of midnight snacks and skiing accidents.”

  He let out a soft laugh.

  “Nico, cover your ears!” Serafina told him.

  He willingly obliged, putting his hands over his ears with a mischievous glint in his eye.

  “Don’t tell him about your Elsa costume for the ball,” she said. “It should be a surprise.”

  I didn’t think Nico cared what my costume would be, or get why Serafina was concerned about him finding out. I told her I wouldn’t, and she finally closed her eyes. I paused the movie, and knew she was asleep when she didn’t whine for me to turn it back on.

  Nico took his hands away from his ears. “Have my sisters spent the evening telling you all of my secrets?”

  “Yep, now I know all about that love child and the gambling problem.”

  He laughed again and I wanted to wrap myself up in his laughter. Which was a weird thing to want to do. But in my defense, I was very tired.

  “You are my first stop. I came by to see if I you were available tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Let me check my schedule.” I sat there for a second. “Yep, totally clear.”

  A brilliant smile. “Excellent. Then I will see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to talk to him. Hold him.

  “I missed you today,” he said low and simply, right before he shut the door.

  His first stop. Before his parents or his siblings or his advisors or his secretaries. I was his first stop.

  And he missed me. I’d missed him, but my insides were turning into goo at the idea that he had missed me.

  I needed to stop watching fairy tales because I was starting to believe that I was living in one.

  There was basically no way I was going into the kitchen. But it was my regularly scheduled feeding time.

  I wanted to sleep, but now the hunger and the Nico imaginings were keeping me awake. Which wasn’t helped by Chiara’s snoring or Serafina’s teeth-grinding.

  That’s when I thought I heard a soft knock on my door. Was it Nico?

  My heart started pounding again as I eased myself from the bed, trying my hardest to not wake up the princesses. I ran a hand over my out-of-control hair, contemplating a quick run into the bathroom to do some damage control.

  But Nico liked the way I looked. Even when I was a mess.

  I decided though that I would not let him in. I would make him stay out in the hallway. Where it was safe for both of us.

  When I
opened the door, there was no one there. The hallway was empty. I looked down and saw a tray. A tray that had a bowl of chocolate gelato, a spoon, and a little vase with moonflowers.

  He did it again. Giving me all the feels. He had to be the most considerate, thoughtful man alive.

  I brought the tray in and demolished the gelato at my desk, grinning like an idiot the entire time.

  Things like this did not happen to girls like me. But it was happening. And it was kind of, I don’t know, glorious.

  Full and finally sleepy, I went back to my bed and stubbed my toes on something. “Ow!” I hopped on one foot for a second, grabbing my hurt toes. The pain ebbed and I got down on my hands and knees to look under the bed to see what I had kicked. It was Chiara’s laptop.

  I pulled it out and after I verified that the girls were still asleep, turned it on. Fortunately there was no password and it started right up.

  I hadn’t been on the Internet since I’d arrived in Monterra. I opened a web browser.

  I typed in “Prince Dominic Monterra” into the search box.

  There were hundreds of thousands of hits. A lot about his charities, some about him being Europe’s most eligible bachelor, all the parties, balls, and premieres he showed up at. I clicked on the “Images” link. An entire screen full of drop-dead gorgeous pictures of Nico. So not only was he beautiful, but photogenic too? Gag. Well, not really gag. More woo-hoo.

  But I couldn’t fully woo-hoo because all the pictures of him were with one over-the-top beautiful woman after another. Models, royals, celebrities, all clinging to his arm like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Which he obviously was, but I felt strangely possessive of him.

  I clicked on the “Web” link and started reading some of the titles of the articles. One was called “My Night with the Prince.” I hovered the mouse cursor over the link, tempted beyond belief to click it.

  It reminded me of what the king had said to me earlier. How women had used Nico. Probably to get paid for articles just like this one. His privacy had been violated all over the place.

  My gaze flickered over to the drawer in my nightstand. And here I’d contemplated doing the exact same thing to him by taking pictures. I couldn’t be that person. I wouldn’t. The reporter had said he would be back in touch with me. I would wait until he was, and then I’d return the phone and the money.