by Ella Miles
“Ivy, go wait inside for me a minute. I need to speak with Margaret alone.”
Ivy’s grip on my hand tightens, telling me that she doesn’t want to leave me all alone with Margaret. I turn and look at her. I nod, letting her know that I really need her to do as she’s told.
Ivy softly kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll be right inside if you need me.”
I keep my eyes on Ivy as she walks back inside the castle. But all I can think is, What have I brought her into? What danger?
I feel my heart breaking, trying to figure out what my next move is. Do I follow through with the plan to try to make her mine and a princess for our country? Or do I do what’s best for her and set her free again? This time, forever.
I turn my attention to Margaret, who doesn’t seem surprised at all that I want to have a one-on-one conversation with her.
“What did you do?” I ask through clenched teeth, trying with everything inside me to remain civil and not cause a fight.
Because, as much as Margaret can be the biggest pain in my ass, I also know that she is one of only a handful of people who genuinely care about me and know all my secrets.
“You already know what I did. I tested her strength and ability to be in this family. If you are going to insist on bringing a complete stranger in, then I’m going to insist on doing whatever test I deem necessary to protect this family, this country.”
“You should’ve at least told me. I was scared to death that she had really been kidnapped.”
“She was really kidnapped,” Margaret says with an even face, like she is reporting the weather to me.
I step closer, feeling my anger overtake any feelings of love I have for this woman.
“What do you mean, she was kidnapped? I know you hired them.”
“You’re right; I did hire them. They just didn’t know that I was the one who’d they hired them. They thought I was a terrorist, just like all the rest of them, who would pay them well when they kidnapped and used the girl to try to kill us all. How else do you think anyone would have known that you two were dating?”
My heart breaks at how ruthless Margaret can be. How willing she is to do anything to protect her family and her country. I understand because I’ve made plenty of sacrifices myself, all in the name of protecting this country that I love so much.
“You took it too far. She could have died. We could’ve all died. What then?”
“Then, we would’ve all died. But it was a sacrifice I was willing to make to ensure that our country was safe and didn’t fall into bad hands.”
“But I’m not willing to take that risk. I’m not willing to risk her life.”
Margaret steps forward, looking me straight in the eyes. “If she is going to be a princess, you’d better be willing to risk her life for this country. If not, let her go now, and stop wasting everybody’s time.”
I glare at Margaret, our faces inches apart, neither one of us backing down. My breathing is fast, my heart is racing, and my fists are clenched, trying to hold in the anger and fear that I feel.
“You have to decide, son. Do you love her? Do you love her so much that you’re willing to let her go to save her life? Or are you going to be selfish and destroy her? The decision is yours.”
Margaret backs away, giving me my space while I deal with the facts that I know are true. It’s one of the reasons I let Ivy go so easily last time. Because I know deep in my heart that setting her free is the right thing to do. But I also know that I’m far too selfish now for that to happen. My heart isn’t willing to let her go.
“In the meantime, while you decide what your decision is going to be, I’m going to continue to test her and you every time I can. Because, if she’s going to be in this life, she needs to be prepared for everything that comes with it. Our life isn’t easy. Loving you will never be easy. And she deserves to know that before she commits herself to this life.”
“I’m telling her tonight. I’m telling her the whole truth. She needs to know that, too. You don’t have to worry about her hiding our secret. Unlike the rest of them, she will.”
She turns back, pausing just at the door to look at me. “You’re right; I don’t think she will reveal our secret. But just realize what you are doing because, after the truth has been said, you can’t take it back. After she has agreed to be part of this life, death is the only way out.”
21
Ivy
I see Margaret throw open the door to enter the castle, and my heart stops. I spent the last twenty minutes trying to eavesdrop on their conversation, but unfortunately, the walls of the castle are far too thick for me to have heard anything.
Margaret stares at me with a blank expression on her face. I have no idea what she’s thinking or what’s going on in that head of hers.
“Follow me,” Margaret says.
I glance back over at Luca, who is still standing outside, pacing, making no move to come inside. So, I follow Margaret. She walks with purpose as she strides through the castle. I follow her close behind. She doesn’t say anything as she walks, and I try to keep my mouth shut despite all the questions running through my head. I try to focus on the beauty of the castle and the new rooms we pass as we head upstairs. But I’ve never been one to just blindly follow orders.
“Why does Luca call you Margaret?” I wince when the words leave my mouth. Of all the questions to ask this woman—like where we are going or telling her how beautiful her home is—that’s what I said.
Margaret stops and turns to look at me. She cocks her head to one side as her eyes pierce through to my soul. “He used to call me Mother.” She sighs, letting in the tiniest human moment. But then, when she looks back up at me a second later, her face is hard and cold again, just like I figure her heart is. “But something changed over the years. As he grew older, taking on more responsibilities as a prince, and as I molded him into the man he is today, he no longer thought of me as a mother. He now thinks of me as his queen. I didn’t like him calling me Your Highness all the time, so now, he calls me Margaret and his father Murray.”
My mouth drops open a little bit as I realize the toll that being the prince has taken on Luca. He no longer even calls his mother, Mother.
“Now, if you don’t have any more nosy questions for me, then I’ll show you to your room and help you prepare for tonight.”
I smile. “I have a lot of questions. But I’ll let you finish showing me to my room and doing the things you need me to do before I ask them.”
“Good.”
Margaret continues up the long staircase, and I follow behind her, taking in the details that seem to be so ingrained in every aspect of the castle. It takes us almost five minutes of walking down long corridors and up more stairs until Margaret stops at a door.
“This will be your room while you’re with us. I think you’ll find it has more than enough things to fit all your needs. And it might keep you and my son apart long enough to do something other than fuck.”
I about choke as I swallow at her bluntness.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. Our goal was never to upset you, which is why we went off to the most secluded place we could find before we fucked, as you said. But do know that it was more than just fucking. I love your son very much. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“I have no doubt that is true. I know you love my son, but it takes more than love to do this job, and that’s what I’m here to show you—what your real life would be like if you moved in here, not the fairy tale that my son has tried to make you think it would be.”
She opens the door and steps inside. I follow behind her. My mouth drops open, something that I’ve grown used to since I’ve been inside the castle. The one bedroom alone is almost the same size as the whole first floor of my house. A bed sits on one side that is large, much larger than a normal king-size. It has beautiful canopies hanging down all around it. There is a large fireplace with at least three or four chairs and two large sofas sitting around it.
There are large, expansive windows that look out over a small stream outside my window. There’s so much more to take in inside the large room. I could spend all day staring at all the intricate details. But I know that Margaret isn’t going to let me spend all day relaxing and enjoying the room, like I would imagine in a fairy tale.
I give Margaret my full attention.
“Good. Now that you have seen your room, we have a lot to get done before tonight. We have to get you fitted for a dress, cleaned and washed up, do something with your hair so that it’s presentable, and educated for tonight.”
“Educated?”
Margaret ignores my question and snaps her fingers as a couple of staff members appear seemingly from nowhere. They run over to me with tape measures in their hands and start measuring all parts of my body while I awkwardly stand, letting them do it. I look over at Margaret, who is standing and studying me, while the staff measures me.
“You have a beautiful home here.”
Margaret’s scowl deepens. “It’s not my home. It belongs to the kingdom, not to me.”
“Oh, um…well, it’s beautiful anyway.”
I wait for her to thank me, but she doesn’t. I expect she never says, Thank you.
“Who usually stays in this room?” I ask, generally wondering what other guests have stayed in this magnificent room before.
But it seems I said something wrong again because Margaret frowns.
“No one in all my time here at the castle. This room has always been set aside for the future princess. It’s the best single room in the castle, and we always figured whoever married Luca would be a spoiled rotten princess who would want the most expansive room with the best view.”
I frown. “But I’m not—”
“We are finished with the measurements, Your Highness,” says one of the staff who just had her hands all over me, measuring me, invading my privacy and my personal space.
“Then, hurry along and tweak the dress that we picked out,” Margaret says.
The staff scurries off but not before curtsying before Margaret.
“I really don’t need the nicest room in the castle. And I’m also more than fine with Luca and I sharing a room if we were to ever get married,” I say, not really believing that this is the most beautiful room in the castle. Not because it’s not beautiful; it is. In fact, I don’t think I can imagine a more beautiful room. But it’s because I think those rooms are reserved for the king and queen.
“If you marry my son, this will be your room. He will have his own. And, although I’m sure he will be spending many nights here, in your bed, there are going to be more than enough times when you come back and need your own space, away from him. Trust me, this job is more taxing than your vet job.”
I open my mouth to argue but then shut it. I’m getting nowhere with this woman, and if I want her to like me, I need to keep my mouth shut at least part of the time.
“Now, get in the shower and quickly wash off the dirt and filth. We are already a half hour behind schedule.”
I glance around the room and see at least four different doors that lead off of it. I have no idea which one is the bathroom, which one is the closet, or where the other two doors lead to.
“Um…which way to the bathroom?”
Margaret rolls her eyes and then points to my right. I run into the bathroom, thankful to have a few minutes away from Margaret and to myself. If this is what my life would be like if I married Luca, I can see why my life would be taxing. She is the reason.
I don’t take the time to admire the double sinks or the marble floor or the chandeliers hanging over my head. Instead, I head straight to the large shower that could fit at least half a dozen people inside of it. I turn on the main showerhead, not bothering to figure out how to turn on the other four showerheads. That will have to wait until another time when I have the time to truly relax and enjoy my shower. For now, I just need to hurry so that I can get back out to Margaret to make her happy. That’s what I do. I hop in and out of the shower in less than two minutes while still trying to ensure that I’m squeaky clean. When I step out, I put the robe on and then come back out, only to find my room empty.
“Margaret?”
Instead of Margaret, three staff members scurry to my sides, telling me that they’re here to do my hair and makeup. So, I sit for the next two hours, getting every inch of me pampered and taken care of. My hair and makeup are done to perfection even though the hairstylist had to try a couple of different updos until she figured out how to deal with the texture of my hair, as it’s so different from what she’s used to here. But it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen done with my hair, also hooked up with curls hanging down.
Just as they finish, Margaret comes back into the room, holding a couple of boxes. She nods at the staff, and they all scurry out of the room as she sets the boxes down on the dressing table in front of me.
“What’s your full name, Ivy?” Margaret asks.
I flutter my eyelashes, surprised that she doesn’t already know my full name since she seems to know so much else about me.
“Ivy Catherine Lane.”
“No.”
I scrunch my eyes, completely confused as to why she said that.
“Your name used to be Ivy Catherine Lane. But, if you want any chance, any possibility, of being anonymous when you go back to the US, then your name tonight cannot be Ivy Catherine Lane. Your name is Ivy Burke.”
“But what if I stay?”
“Then, your name will still forever be Ivy Burke until you marry my son; in which case, it will be Ivy Mores. Ivy Lane will never exist here. Your past will never exist here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your past no longer exists here,” she says more slowly. “Your name is Ivy Burke. You grew up mainly in the US. You had grandparents who lived here, which is why you know the country well. You’ve visited often. You met my son, Luca, three years ago in law school. You’ve been dating for that entire time. You both realized that you wanted to be serious about your relationship and take things to the next level. You were not kidnapped yesterday. Your life has never been in danger. That is what you are going to tell the press and everyone else. Those are the lies you will tell tonight.”
I raise my eyebrows and take a deep breath as I try to understand what she said. Why she wants me to lie about everything.
But I’m too shocked to ask any questions or say anything.
“I need you to understand this, Ivy. If you want to live in our world, you have to play by our rules. And, if you fuck up, you’re gone. We can’t afford to give second chances. You tell the lies that we tell you to, or you are gone.”
“But Luca—–”
Margaret roughly grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her close in the eyes. “You must understand this, my dear, as it’s the most important rule. You must do exactly as I say if you want to be with Luca. Exactly as I say. You can ask Luca yourself when we are through here. He’ll tell you exactly the same thing. There’s too much that you still don’t know about yet. Too much that you don’t understand. He will let you go just as fast as I will. You have to be willing to lie, or this all ends. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” I say slowly.
Margaret lets go of my chin and slowly backs away.
I said so, but I don’t really understand it.
Margaret goes back to the boxes and begins opening them until she finds what she is looking for. She pulls out a box and turns to me. That’s when I see the beautiful tiara she’s holding in her hands.
“You’ll wear this tonight, so you’ll be reminded all night of what you’re giving up if you decide to leave here.”
I swallow hard. She walks behind me and places the tiara on top of my head. It’s gorgeous, and it’s crazy that I’m wearing it. It instantly makes me feel like a princess even though I really have no idea what is required to in fact be a princess.
What would my duties be? What would my real life b
e like? Would I really never be able to treat animals again?
I look at myself in the mirror though, and I see a princess. But Margaret is wrong if she thinks that, by putting the tiara on my head, I would understand what I could be giving up. Because I couldn’t care less about being a princess. I care a lot more about being Luca’s wife.
“Why?”
Margaret sighs and sits down on the chair next to me. “Why what?”
“Why do I have to lie? Why can’t I just be myself?”
“You’ll understand much more as time goes on. You’ll understand all the intricate details about what this role means, but the gist is, you are not what the country wants. The country wants a princess of their own making. Not a promiscuous stripper who is being sued and who is about to lose her license.”
I swallow down my pride a little bit. I must learn to not ask questions that I don’t want to hear honest answers to. For as much as the family lies, they sure do know how to tell the truth in such a way that rips you right to your soul.
“And what do I say about the pictures of Luca and me kissing on the street while I was half naked?”
Margaret stands up and walks over to the door. Staff members enter, carrying a large cream-colored ballgown. It has the most beautiful lace corset I’ve ever seen. It’s more beautiful than what I would even imagine my wedding gown to look like. But I have a feeling that, if I was to marry Luca, my wedding dress would be at least twice as nice as this dress.
“Make them forget, which they are likely to do if you can carry off this dress,” Margaret says.
22
Luca
I pace back and forth outside of Ivy’s bedroom, waiting for her to finish getting ready and come out. I’ve spent the last three hours apart from her, and it’s been killing me. I know that it is necessary. Margaret wouldn’t have had it any other way. But, still, I hate being apart from Ivy. These last few minutes, waiting for her to finish getting ready and come out so that we can be introduced as a couple at the ball, have been the absolute worst.