A Love that Endures

by Forrest, Bella

  “Of course,” Katy replied. “We’ll go pick something up later. Don’t worry about that.”

  Cerise smiled. “Thanks. I probably need to do a little studying before that, though.”

  “Finals coming up for you, too?” David asked.

  “Unfortunately,” Cerise replied. “But you guys make yourselves at home, and when you get hungry for dinner we can figure something out.”

  His cousin waved and retreated to her room. David thought for a moment that it might be a good time for him to study for a while, too. But before he had time to think, Katy’s hand had grasped his and she was dragging him toward the empty guest room.

  “What are we doing?” David asked, a rush of excitement stealing through him, mingled with heady confusion. Why did Katy suddenly want to be alone with him? Was she going to kiss him? As soon as he thought it he realized it seemed silly—but then, David had been getting mixed signals from her since they’d met. It was why he hadn’t acted on his own attraction. If Katy made the first move, though, he wasn’t going to hold back any longer.

  When Katy shut the guest room door behind them, dropped his hand, and pulled out her phone, David hoped his disappointment wasn’t too obvious.

  “Let’s do this,” Katy said, scrolling through her phone.

  “Do what?” His brain was still focused on the rush of being alone with her. “Do you mean call the PI?”

  “Her name is Mia Cantor,” Katy replied. “She’s Spanish, no-nonsense, and kind of elitist. She only works with celebrities nowadays. Let me do the talking at first.”

  Then, perhaps thinking better of her last statement, Katy paused, looking cautiously at him.

  “Sorry, I just mean—” she began. But David raised a hand to cut her off.

  “Hey, you said it yourself,” David replied with a wink. “No use pretending anymore.”

  Katy nodded, looking relieved, and turned back to her phone. Almost too soon, she started a call and turned the speakerphone on. The room filled with a sudden tension as the phone rang and rang. Finally, a person on the other side picked up.

  “Sí,” a woman’s voice said.

  “Mia, this is Katerina,” Katy replied. It was strange hearing her full name, her accent suddenly rising to full strength.

  “Ah, Princess,” the woman replied in English tinged heavily with her own accent. “How are you? How is Harvard?”

  “Very good, thank you,” Katy said. But then her brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, how did you know where I am?”

  “Please, Princess,” the woman replied knowingly. “I solve tabloid mysteries in my spare time. Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Katy shot David a bothered look.

  “What can I do for you?” the woman went on.

  Katy turned her attention back to the phone. “Are you currently available? I have a missing person case.”

  There was a pause, and during that silence David could feel his heart flutter in anticipation. He hadn’t been willing to accept this possibility—that Katy could hire and pay for a top private investigator—because he didn’t want to be disappointed if it ended up not working out. And in that silence, David felt his fears taking root in his stomach. Maybe the PI was busy. Maybe it wouldn’t work. Only then, as he pondered his anxieties, did David realize just how much he wanted this to work. Mia was his family’s best hope. He couldn’t bear for this lead to be gone so soon.

  “Mia?” Katy finally prodded, after the silence had gone on too long.

  “Just checking my availability, Princess,” Mia replied. “I think I can do it. But we’ll need to schedule an intake interview for another day. I’m entertaining guests right now.”

  David’s heart leapt into his throat. He could barely contain the excitement that he suddenly felt. Was this how they would find Jeanine? Was he finally on the path to being reunited with his mother after so long?

  “Let me reach out to you when I’m free,” the woman finished. “I have to go now. Cuídese, Princess.”

  “Talk soon, Mia,” Katy replied, hanging up the phone.

  Katy looked over at David again, her green eyes big, excited, and brimming with hope. He had never wanted to kiss someone as much as he wanted to kiss her at that moment. Katy was beautiful, witty, intelligent, and compassionate. She seemed to genuinely care about David and his family. Even if this investigation fizzled, she had given David the grandest gift that he had ever received. And for all of those reasons and more, every fiber of him wanted to rush forward and embrace her, take her face in his hands . . .

  But their timing couldn’t have been worse. How would she react if David suddenly revealed his feelings right after she had shared that she was actually a princess? Would she think he was only after her money? Chasing celebrity? Looking to brag about a rare conquest? No, he couldn’t risk that. He couldn’t tell her how he felt now, so soon after Katy had confided in him. She’d think it was cheap, a ploy, a scheme. And that was the last thing that David wanted.

  So, as hard as it was, he swallowed all of his emotions down and kept his distance.

  “Thank you, Katy,” he said.

  Katy paused, her face almost imperceptibly strained, like she was considering something. Or maybe—just maybe she was feeling the type of longing and disappointment that David was. But she soon recovered, offering a final, gracious statement before opening the guest room door.

  “It’s my pleasure, David.”

  27

  Katy

  She’d thought that David was going to kiss her.

  He had been looking at her with a glowing passion, glancing at her lips, and had shifted his weight ever so slightly forward. Katy had stopped breathing, her stomach dropping at the thought of his lips pressing against hers.

  But, almost as quickly as it had ignited, the fire in his eyes had been extinguished, replaced with a softer admiration. And he’d simply thanked her instead.

  Katy felt silly. She had probably blown her chance with David as soon as she told him the truth. And who could blame him? Celebrity life was hell. Katy was constantly being stalked by photographers and asked for autographs. All of her woes, all her failed romances, were mercilessly splashed across tabloid covers, with headlines like: For Desirable Bachelor Alexei, the Only Thing More Frigid Than Russian Winters Was the Lorrellian Princess! Why would David want to sign himself up for that kind of scrutiny and invasion of privacy?

  Truthfully, from the moment she told David, she’d resigned herself to the fact that it would dash her romantic hopes. But that was okay. She’d told David so she could help him and his family, so giving up her crush, however deep it might have been, seemed like a small sacrifice to make. Plus, there was the matter of Cassie—if Katy and David remained only friends, it would certainly spare her cousin’s feelings.

  Still, when he’d paused and looked at her with such fierce attention, she had instantly thought, despite all odds, despite everything that she’d told him and everything that she’d told herself, that he was going to kiss her.

  Instead, she accepted his gratitude—sincerely but curtly—and opened the door, not wanting to be alone with the ghost of what might have been any longer.

  They walked out of the guest room together to find that Cerise was still shut in her room, undoubtedly buried in a history textbook. Katy had a mind to do the same thing. Not only did she have finals coming up, she also had that cursed drama club project. And while she had once been thrilled at the prospect and challenge of writing a short play, now all she could think about was Cassie writing some cheesy and on-the-nose romance plot between herself and David. Not that Cassie should be blamed for that. If anything, it was Katy’s fault for getting herself too invested in her cousin’s love interest—and not figuring out how to talk about it sooner.

  Not that she could do anything about that now.

  “Looks like we have a few hours to kill,” David said, walking beside Katy down the hallway and toward the living room. Her shoulder bumped again
st him every few steps, a closeness that she tried to ignore but certainly didn’t go out of her way to avoid.

  “I’d suggest another game of Monopoly if I thought I stood a chance against you,” Katy joked. And if it wasn’t the world’s most boring game.

  “There are a ton of things that we could do here in NYC, though,” David replied. “The Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the Met.”

  Katy smiled gently. “That’d be wonderful. If . . .” She trailed off. How to explain this?

  “If you weren’t a pretty recognizable celebrity in an international city?” David offered.

  Katy narrowed her eyes. “How recognizable?”

  In front of the entryway, David turned to face her. Then, with a little grin on his face, he reached out to run his fingers through the dyed tips of her hair. “It’s not a bad disguise. I mean, you definitely fooled me,” he said. His hand moved up to Katy’s left temple, pushing another strand of hair behind her ear, sending a giddy swoop through her stomach. “But the real you is trying to peek through up here.”

  Katy blushed. She knew she should’ve topped up her roots before their trip. At least she always kept a replacement pair of green contacts in case anything happened.

  “You’re right, though,” David continued. “It’s a Saturday afternoon in New York City, and I named off a bunch of tourist spots. The queues would be a mile long. Not worth the risk.”

  “Don’t wall yourself up here on my account,” Katy replied. “I can hang out here and read if you want to go exploring.” Just because she couldn’t get out didn’t mean David should be stuck inside on a lovely (albeit quite cold) day.

  “Nonsense,” David quickly assured her. “We’re here together. Besides, there are plenty of attractions that are less crowded but just as exciting. If you would’ve enjoyed the Met, we can go to the Cloisters instead. It’s where they keep their medieval art, and it’s never as busy.”

  Katy beamed at David’s kindness. He didn’t have to accommodate her and her aggravating restrictions, and the fact that he was willing to do so anyway meant a lot to her.

  “I’d love that,” she said.

  The Cloisters turned out to be a straight shot along the Hudson in Washington Heights. Katy relished the way that David hailed cabs and spoke confidently and knowledgeably as if he were a local. It made her feel like she had her own personal guide, which, while not a new experience for her, didn’t usually come with a side of sexual tension. David pointed out a few landmarks as they passed—Columbia University, a beautiful gothic cathedral—and Katy made sure to lean toward his window as often as she could, enjoying every instance that they could lightly brush against each other.

  And she was awed at the sight of the museum.

  “It’s a rebuilt monastery,” David explained, opening the taxi door and offering Katy his hand as she stepped out to join him. “It has a really amazing collection. I’ve never understood why it doesn’t get as many visitors.”

  At the ticket booth, David quickly paid for himself and Katy without even glancing over at her. When he did, she shot him a playfully reproachful look.

  “Sorry,” he conceded with a grin. “Force of habit.” And then, when they’d walked into the quiet, echoing museum and were safely away from other guests, he added, “I suppose I haven’t quite acclimated to escorting royalty yet.”

  Katy bumped David’s shoulder. “Nothing has changed,” she reminded him. “Just let me pay for more stuff.”

  “I could use a new Rolex,” David joked.

  They walked together into the museum proper and were greeted with a huge collection of medieval art. “This is amazing,” Katy said in awe.

  “I’m glad you like it,” David replied. “I feel the same way. Art without history just doesn’t carry the same weight.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Medieval studies was my favorite subject as a little girl. I used to beg my tutors to skip math and talk about history instead.” Katy enjoyed the memory dreamily. All she’d ever wanted to talk about were stories of knights and princes and royal conflict. She’d loved the ever-changing political dynamics. She’d recoiled in horror from the descriptions of torture and execution, yet kept asking for more with a persistent, macabre interest. And the art! The paintings and sculptures, the plays and literature, the incredible architecture of the eras, it all moved her deeply.

  “That must’ve been amazing,” David replied. “Getting specialized tutoring about this as a kid.”

  “It was,” Katy said. But then the memory began to fade. “While it lasted. Eventually the course of my education . . . changed.” As the years went on in the palace, her bookish tutors were slowly replaced by pretty dilettantes. Between lessons, they’d schooled Katy in fashion and etiquette.

  David looked at Katy pensively. “I guess I’m not sure what princess education really looks like.”

  “You still get some of the good stuff, like history. But also there’s a lot of long lessons on proper courtship or how to lightly apply rouge.” And then, eventually, that had seemed to be all they wanted to teach her about, a constant dichotomy between how to attract a suitor and how to maintain her chastity. “But it wasn’t all bad. We had a big library, and I did plenty of reading on my own. And I never stopped loving medieval studies.”

  “I read a lot as a kid, too,” David replied. “Things they didn’t teach in school. I know what it’s like to want more.”

  Katy gazed over at him. She had tried to keep things a bit vague so as to not complain too much. Nonetheless, he somehow seemed to understand her feelings on the matter. And it was nice to know that he shared her love of learning. Just another of the many small things that made her feel a greater kinship with him—maybe even more than she felt with her own parents.

  David’s enjoyment of the museum was obvious. As they walked through the rooms, Katy found herself looking at him almost as much as the exhibits. He would read every placard and then stare in quiet, analytical admiration of a piece for a moment before glancing back to make sure he hadn’t lost Katy and then continuing to another piece of art. Katy liked to watch him repeat the process, always struck by how he invariably turned to check on her, every time.

  In a corner of the Late Middle Ages room, Katy found an illustrated leaflet from a fifteenth century manuscript that gave her pause. It included a small map.

  David walked over, noticing her interest.

  “Find a distant relative yet?” he asked with a grin.

  “This is the closest I’ve gotten,” Katy replied. She knew he was joking, but he wasn’t too far off. She pointed at the crudely illustrated map. “That’s Lorria right there, when it was still part of the Roman Empire.”

  David squinted at the map. “I bet my genealogy is a terrible bore. Yours must be so storied.”

  Katy felt a bit uncomfortable with statements like that. She didn’t like it when anyone made comparisons like that, even if they obviously meant it lightly. But her parents had spent so much time trying to insinuate that Katy was of a certain class and pedigree that was above other people. Katy had never bought into the idea; she didn’t even like being reminded of it.

  “Every personal history is storied,” she replied curtly. “That’s what makes it a history.”

  David turned to look at her, and a part of her regretted her sharp tone, hoping that David wasn’t about to apologize for what had simply been an innocent remark.

  Instead, he looked at her with interest. “You know, you’re not exactly what I’ve always had in mind when I thought of modern royalty. You’re much more down-to-earth than I expected.”

  “That’s because I’m not like my parents,” Katy replied. Then, enjoying her ability to be transparent for once, she added, “As hard as they may try.”

  “Heavy expectations, eh?” David gathered.

  “You have no idea,” Katy replied.

  “I think I do,” David said softly.

  Katy looked over at David guiltily. She shouldn’t hav
e assumed like that. After all, didn’t he have expectations too? To do well in school, to find his mother, to reunite his family?

  Katy sighed. “I guess we all have challenges,” she said. Sure, her parents laid some heavy expectations on Katy, but at least she still had her parents. She felt a gnawing guilt for sounding so ungrateful to someone who had overcome so much.

  David glanced down at his watch. “Well, I haven’t heard from Cerise yet, but maybe she’s waiting on us. Ready to get back?”

  Katy nodded. She was ready to go anywhere, as long as David was there.

  * * *

  “It isn’t too spicy, is it?” David asked with obvious concern.

  “No, no,” Katy lied. “It’s fine.” She took a big drink of water and grabbed another soft piece of roti to dip into the volcanic aloo vindaloo, willing herself not to turn too red or—heaven forbid—start coughing.

  “Did you guys eat this a lot in London?” Cerise asked David, forking a piece of much tamer paneer masala.

  “I’m a curry connoisseur,” David joked. “Indian food is big in London. We used to have it at least once a week. Americans tend to think of blood puddings and fish and chips, but this is much more authentic.”

  “So you don’t really think of yourself as an American, then?” Cerise asked. It was clearly an innocent question, but Katy noticed that David seemed flustered by it.

  “I guess not,” he replied. “But maybe that’s just because I don’t really know much about myself.”

  They ate quietly for a few minutes after that, possibly all distracted with their own personal problems. Katy sensed that Cerise was fretting over her finals, given the open history book beside her on the dining room table. David seemed a bit introspective after Cerise’s question. And Katy . . . well what wasn’t Katy currently feeling bothered by? It was their last night in New York City, and the trip had served as a pleasant reprieve from the anxieties of campus life. It had also been a lovely way to get closer to David and to learn more about him. But now he knew her big secret, and, while she wasn’t worried that he wasn’t trustworthy, she couldn’t help but feel like it might affect his feelings toward her. But of course, she still had to go back to Harvard, where her own finals awaited her, not to mention the group drama club project, and, worst of all, confronting Cassie after so much deception.