Royal Date

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Royal Date Page 20

by Sariah Wilson

“It’s weird to think that this time tomorrow I’m going to be back in Colorado,” I said as we went down the hallway that led to my room.

  It was a bit of a desperate ploy to get Nico to DTR. DTR was a phrase that Lemon’s sorority sisters had introduced me to. It meant “define the relationship.”

  I waited for him to say something. Anything. To show me that all of this had mattered to him the way it had mattered to me.

  I felt like he cared about me. I thought he was attracted to me and liked being with me. But maybe this was the price of inexperience. I didn’t have any past relationships to compare to this one so that I could better understand. I didn’t know what he was thinking. This could all be no big deal to him. Just another girl to hang with until she left.

  But it wasn’t that way for me. There was more here. At the snow polo match, when I thought I was going to lose him forever, I was desperate and terrified. Now I really was losing him. This was it. I couldn’t even pretend like he wanted a long-distance relationship. He hadn’t said a single word about it, even though we’d spent so much time together. We just kept going along in our little bubble like life would always stay that way.

  It wouldn’t.

  If I had more courage, I might have just asked him where he thought things would go between us. I had tried so hard to keep this casual, but I was losing that fight.

  We stopped in front of my door, and he took both of my hands. “What if you didn’t have to go?”

  “But I do have to go.”

  “You couldn’t stay for even a few more days?”

  I wished I could. “I really can’t.”

  He nodded, not quite meeting my eyes. Did he want me to stay? Would he miss me? I wondered if by cutting him off from more physicality, had it changed how he felt about me? Had it made him not like me as much? He’d been so careful recently to keep me at arm’s length. This was the first time we’d been alone in days.

  We heard a loud commotion coming from the ballroom. They were counting down to midnight.

  “There’s a myth that says the person you kiss on New Year’s Eve sets the tone for the rest of the year,” he told me.

  “Talk about pressure. What if you’re with someone like Lady Claire? Then your whole year would be shot,” I replied. “I wonder if Hershey Kisses would be a good substitute. Then your year would be filled with chocolate-y goodness.”

  He didn’t even crack a smile. “Happy New Year, Katerina.”

  “Happy New Year, Nico.”

  The bells from the town started to ring, and fireworks exploded outside the castle. Then they started exploding and ringing inside me as Nico kissed me ever so gently, ever so softly, as if he feared I would break.

  The end of us felt like a living thing. I wanted to chase it away. I didn’t want to face it.

  I wanted him to really kiss me.

  So I showed him what I wanted. I pressed against him, trying to melt into him. I felt desperate, clinging to him. I kissed him with everything I had, my mouth insistent on his.

  It only took Nico a second to realize that I had shifted gears. Then his lips were all urgency and insistence, fierceness and passion.

  That wall he’d put up, the one he stayed behind so that he didn’t get too out of control, shattered. He wasn’t holding back.

  He kissed me harder, tangling his fingers in my hair. Everywhere he touched and everywhere he kissed scorched me. Like I was being branded. My heartbeat was out of control, my breathing worse.

  His kisses were hungry, his hands impatient. He explored. Tasted. Memorized.

  And I gave back as good as I got.

  The intoxicating deliciousness of it all consumed me. He kissed me everywhere he could find skin. He lifted me up so that I was flush against him, my curves pressing into his edges. I ran my fingernails along his scalp, and he groaned in response. The sound sent little yummy thrills up my spine. I couldn’t kiss him enough. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more.

  I wanted more than just this.

  If this was our last night, I wanted this memory of him.

  I pulled back. “Nico . . .”

  But he closed the distance between us, his mouth hot on mine, searing me. My entire world had turned into overwhelming sensations, rampant fire, and a drowning need. I could feel his restraint slipping away with each moment, each kiss.

  He kissed my cheek, my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. “Nico,” I tried again.

  “Don’t ask me to stop.” His voice was rough and hoarse.

  “I don’t want you to stop,” I told him, and he went still. He pulled his head away to look at me.

  “What are you saying?”

  I let go of him and gently pushed his arms away. We were both breathing hard and staring at each other. My legs finally obeyed me, and then I went over to my door and turned the knob. I stepped inside a few feet and then turned to face him. He had both of his hands on the doorframe.

  “Nico, I’m inviting you in.”

  But he didn’t move. I stood there feeling vulnerable and totally out of my depth, needing him to make this okay. My heart hammered in my chest, waiting for him to walk over to me and take me in his arms.

  Still he stood. Staring at me. The light from the hallway backlit him, and I couldn’t see his face or his eyes.

  I nearly walked back to him so that I could take him by the hand. But I didn’t. I needed him to close this gap between us, to make me forget everything.

  “Do you realize what you’re saying?” His voice was low and intense, sending new shivers through me.

  “I know exactly what I’m saying.”

  I waited and waited. He left me standing there. Alone.

  My nerves tensed and my breath seemed to solidify in my throat. Did he not want this? Had I misread the entire situation? Time seemed to both speed up and slow down.

  When he finally spoke, he startled me. “I want there to be no misunderstanding between us. More than anything in the world, I want to accept your invitation.” He stopped talking, unmoving. “But I can’t dishonor you and disrespect your values. You would hate me tomorrow for it, and I would hate myself. So I think I should say good night before I lose the ability to walk away from you.”

  My soul fractured into a million pieces. My blood pounded in my temples, and I was sure I had turned a bright scarlet red, since my cheeks felt like they were on fire. He was saying no. He was rejecting me.

  I had offered him all of me, and he said no thanks.

  I had never been so embarrassed, so humiliated in my entire life. A dark anguish spread all over me, weighing me down. My limbs felt heavy, like I was moving underwater.

  I slowly walked back to the door, looking up at him.

  “Say something,” he pleaded.

  I closed the door in his face. And then I locked it.

  “Katerina . . . cuore mio, please . . .”

  “Go away, Nico. I don’t want you here.” I hoped he couldn’t hear my despair, couldn’t hear how hard I was trying not to cry.

  I put my forehead against the door, listening. He stood there for several minutes before he finally walked away, taking my heart with him.

  I tugged at the zipper, trying to get out of my costume. I nearly ripped it in my frenzy to get it off. I couldn’t stand it. I had to get it off.

  Finally, I was free. I didn’t even bother with pajamas, just crawling into my bed and pulling the covers up over my head.

  I could actually taste the mortification. I was not only upset by his reaction, but by what I had done.

  How could I have done that?

  That wasn’t me. Who had I turned in to?

  I had to get back home. To my real self. This was all just a fantasy. I needed my studies, my schoolwork, and my kids. I thought of my plans. My degree, my job, my apartment. Those were things I had dreamed of. Planned for. Worked for. Those things were real. They were what I wanted.

  I had never felt so disappointed and ashamed. I always kept my word. Always. And now, the most importa
nt promise I’d ever made to myself, the one that had mattered the most, I had just been willing to throw out the window.

  For what? For a guy who hadn’t ever even said how he really felt about me? It wasn’t even like I could rationalize it as being in love. We weren’t in love.

  Were we?

  I finally let the tears loose, big angry ones that covered my cheeks and made my eyes burn. Sobs racked my body, and I shook with the intensity of my pain.

  I couldn’t get over what I’d done. What I’d wanted to do. What I had asked Nico to do. I wanted someone to blame, someone to be my scapegoat. But the only one who’d messed up was me. I didn’t need to worry about somebody else, like Lady Claire, screwing up my life. I was doing a pretty good job wrecking it all on my own. I felt like such a fool.

  An undesirable, stupid fool.

  I must have finally fallen asleep after spending hours running the night through my head over and over again, wishing I could have done things differently. Wishing that I could have retained my dignity and held on to my promises. How sad that Nico had to keep my promise for me! I had never imagined that I could be so weak.

  I went to unlock my door and found it opened. My costume was missing from the floor. When I went into my closet, I saw that Giacomo had already packed for me. I opened my suitcase and took out the dresses and all the other clothes they had made for me. I left them on a shelf. I put the Elsa costume on a hanger and left it swinging in the closet. I grabbed some clothes to travel in and put them on. I brought the suitcase out and put it on my bed.

  Opening my nightstand, I took out Nico’s gifts and the phone. I was angry, but I couldn’t leave the Barbie behind. Or the necklace. They meant too much to me. I put them in my suitcase. I picked up the phone and thought about leaving it behind. But someday I might want those memories again. Those pictures. I would take it with me.

  There was a knock on my door, and my heart throbbed in my throat. I wasn’t ready to see Nico.

  “May I come in, Signorina Kat?”

  It was Giacomo. I was both relieved and disappointed. “Come in.”

  “I have this for you.” He handed me a heavy, cream-colored envelope that had the royal family’s crest on it. It was fringed in red and gold stripes. I opened it up, afraid of what I might find. But it was just a check for six thousand dollars for the article. In the other hand he had my favorite hot chocolate, and I took a sip before setting it down.

  “Do you have everything? May I help with any other packing?”

  “I’m good.” This would be the last time I would see him. The last time Giacomo would take care of things for me. “Hey, thanks for everything.” I wanted to hug him, but he didn’t seem like the type to do hugs.

  “You are most welcome.”

  I zipped my suitcase up, leaving the envelope on my bed. “I feel like I should tell you how awesome you’ve been, Giacomo. I never could have survived all this without you.”

  He adjusted his glasses and straightened his tie. I wondered if I’d embarrassed him. “It has been an honor to serve you, my lady.”

  I laughed. “I’m no lady, Giacomo. You and I both know that.”

  He grabbed my hand, which surprised me because he was always so formal with me. “You are one of the truest ladies I have ever known.”

  I couldn’t swallow, and I wanted to cry all over again. I just nodded in response. What could I say to that?

  He patted me awkwardly on the arm and walked out.

  I sank down on the bed, refusing to cry. I looked at the check again. It was a lot of money.

  But it was tainted. I couldn’t take it. I didn’t need Nico’s money. I could figure out my tuition problem on my own. I put the envelope on top of the nightstand.

  I got my toiletry bag from the bathroom and didn’t bother with any of it. I didn’t want to brush my teeth or fix my hair. It would be my carry-on. I made sure I had my ticket and my passport. I didn’t want anything to get in my way of leaving this country.

  Lemon and I had a train to catch. It would take us to Milan, and from the airport there we would eventually make our way back to Colorado.

  I was going home. Home. The word sounded hollow and false in my head. Because my heart felt like I was leaving my home.

  There was a noise in the hallway, and I looked to see Serafina standing just behind the doorframe, hiding from me.

  “Did you come to say goodbye?”

  She nodded and then ran over to me, jumping into my arms. She started crying, soft little sad sobs that tore at my heart. I held her on the bed, rocking her back and forth.

  “I don’t want you to go,” she said.

  “I have to go.”

  She looked up at me. Frak, I had really come to love this kid.

  “Will I see you again?”

  I didn’t want to lie to her. “I don’t think so.”

  Her cries got louder. “But why can’t you just stay? Stay and marry Nico? Then someday you would be a queen. Like Elsa. Don’t you want to be like Elsa?”

  How could I tell a seven-year-old that her brother wasn’t going to marry me or anybody else?

  I kissed her on the forehead and made soothing sounds. “Don’t cry, everything will be all right.”

  “What if I promise to be good? What if I promise to never steal your phone again? Then will you stay?”

  She was absolutely breaking my heart. “Oh, sweetie, you didn’t do anything wrong. This has nothing to do with you. This was only a holiday for me, and now it’s time for me to go home. I have school and work to get back to.”

  She just kept crying, and it was all I could do to keep from joining her.

  “I am really, really going to miss you,” I told her.

  “I am really, really going to miss you,” she said through her tears. “I wanted you to be my new sister. I like you much better than Violetta.”

  That made me laugh. I hugged her tightly. I wished I could put her in my suitcase and take her to Colorado with me. Instead I put her in my bed, pulling the covers up around her. I brushed some of the tears from her cheeks. “When you miss me, I want you to watch Frozen and think about all the times we watched it together. Can you do that?”

  She nodded her head, clutching the blanket.

  “Good. Because every time I watch it, I will think of you.”

  “Promise?” she sniffled.

  “I promise.” I kissed her again on the cheek, picked up all of my bags, and forced myself out the door. In the hallway I found Chiara. I could not go through this again.

  But she didn’t cry. She asked me to e-mail her and stay in touch, that she had more sketches that she wanted to show me. I didn’t have any intention of talking to any member of Nico’s family in the future. So I didn’t say yes, but I didn’t say no. I just hugged her.

  “Please take good care of your family. Especially . . .”

  She interrupted me before I could continue. “Nico?”

  Even hearing his name hurt my heart. “Serafina. She’s a little sad.”

  “I will.” We hugged again and Chiara left. I knocked on Lemon’s door, and she took one look at me and dragged me inside. “Tell me everything.”

  “We don’t have time. We need to get to the train so we can get to the airport. What are you doing?”

  She had her personal stationery out. “I was writing a thank-you note to the king and queen. They left late last night for some reason, and they took Violetta and the twins with them. Which is probably a good thing because I don’t want to have a whole scene with Dante before we leave. You can sign them if you want.”

  Lemon’s mother was huge into thank-you notes and had raised her daughter to be the same way. I picked up the card and, without reading it, signed my name to the bottom. I was glad I didn’t have to see anybody else in Nico’s family. My farewell tour was wearing me down.

  “I also wrote a note to Caitlin. Their flight was early this morning, so you didn’t get to say goodbye. You disappeared last night.” She had an a
ccusatory tone, but I was in no mood. I signed that card too. Lemon put the cards into the envelopes and sealed them shut. She left them on her bed. She looked around her room, as if she wanted to remember every detail. While I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  “We need to go.”

  “You need to explain yourself.”

  “Not here. Not in this place.”

  There was something on my face that let Lemon know I was serious. I grabbed one of her suitcases, and she managed the other three (wearing one and rolling the other two).

  “I asked Giacomo to call for a taxi to take us to the train.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

  The stairs were no fun with the suitcases. I half-expected to see Nico around every turn. My heart kept jumping and falling when he didn’t appear.

  I wanted to leave without saying goodbye. I didn’t want to see him again, to relive that humiliation from last night.

  Outside there was a town car, not a taxi. The driver ran over to help us with the suitcases.

  “We were supposed to have a taxi,” I said.

  “His Highness insisted that I drive you to the airport in Milan.”

  No way was I letting that happen.

  “You can take us to the train station.” I took the train to get into Monterra, and I could very well take the train back out. I didn’t need Nico’s car or his driver.

  The driver looked panicked. “No, I can’t. I have to take you to the airport.”

  I sighed. I didn’t want to get the poor guy fired. He didn’t deserve to lose his job over my stubbornness. I handed over one of my bags. He put our suitcases in the trunk, and Lemon and I climbed into the car. I shut the door behind me.

  “Now will you talk?”

  “Not yet. I’m not ready yet.” I could see the worry in Lemon’s eyes. I didn’t want to deal with anyone else’s emotions right now. I could barely deal with my own.

  I closed my eyes. I had never felt so bone-weary and exhausted. I didn’t want to think about Nico and why he hadn’t come to say goodbye. Not that I wanted to see him again, but it hurt that he didn’t want to see me.

  I just wanted to sleep.

  Lemon woke me up when we got to the airport. We had plenty of time to check in.

 

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