by S. L. Scott
“Why?”
Chips are set down in front of us. I pick up one of the one-hundred-thousand-dollar stacks and set it next to the others. While the others discuss soccer, I lean over, and whisper, “Because we need to kick everyone’s ass and show them we’re not going down without a fight.”
“Are we talking about poker, the deal, or are you talking about the princess?”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Princess it is.”
I’m not a gambling man by nature, but tonight I am. “Ante.”
We toss our chips in and wait for the cards to be dealt. Our drinks are served, and our empties collected. I did well before becoming part owner of Everest Enterprises, but now I have money to burn and, apparently, an ax to grind. I’m invested balls deep in this game.
Jakob calls the round before I have time to think about my hand. Fuck me. There goes ten K without a second thought. “A pair of queens.” Ironically.
“Full house,” Bennett says, laughing. “Maybe I do need to be a card man.” Winning the pot, he pulls the chips to his pile and stacks his winnings while the next hand is dealt.
I lose fifty thousand before I feel like I’m getting in the swing of things again. Although the bourbon warms me, I feel Ally’s father’s ice-cold stare between hands. I finally wager more than money. “Something on your mind, Prince Werner?”
“Actually there is. I’ve tried to work my way through what I’ve heard from Jakob versus—”
“Versus?”
“We’ve had some information brought to our attention,” he says, organizing his cards. Glancing up, he looks at me. “Brudenbourg is a small country but a proud people. We trust each other by their word, and a handshake is as strong as a binding contract. We’re fiercely protective of our image because our tourism and revenue are based on how the world views us. When problems arise, we deal with it.” His eyes return to his cards, and new ones replace our discards.
“Has a problem arisen?”
He shows his hand. “It was brought to our attention that you were arrested for disorderly conduct.”
“Whoa. I did not see that coming.” I glance at my poker opponents, landing lastly on Bennett, who shakes his head, disappointed, no doubt, that this has been brought up.
He says, “That was four years ago.”
Laying my cards down, I say, “I would have thought your initial background check would have spotted that blemish.”
“We were looking into your current life in New York and assets. Upon further investigation, it seems we missed what you call blemishes.” Her father is not wearing the crown, but he might as well be by how high and fucking mighty he sits on that imaginary pedestal.
Another losing hand feels fitting for this conversation. I take a drink and then show my own hand—my life—laying it all out for him to see. “I was arrested when my brother was cheap-shotted in the back while helping a woman trying to get away from her abusive boyfriend.”
Mr. Yamagata asks, “What is cheap-shotted? This is not a term I’ve heard before.”
Bennett replies, “It’s when someone hits you when you’re not looking. I was punched in the back.”
Yamagata says, “Ah, yes, a low blow.”
I nod. “Yep, it was definitely a low blow. That’s why I couldn’t let him get away with it. I stand by my brothers. They’re not only family, but they’re also my best friends. Attacking one of us is the same as attacking all of us.”
Jakob sits forward, his cards on the table. “My sister did that for me.”
I know he means Ally, because that is true to her character. Before I can ask to hear the story, his father snaps, “Your sister hasn’t been arrested.” Ally’s dad stands, clearly agitated, judging by the angry lines carved into his brow. “Please stay out of this, Jakob.” His father presses his fingers into the green felt-top table, whitening the tips. “As I was saying, our image and tourism are everything. Brudenbourg won’t survive if our reputation is tarnished, even if by association.”
“Are you saying—?”
“Princess Arabelle,” Bennett says, standing up.
In a piss-poor mood, I turn around. Oh fuck. Her tiara is crooked, her hair messier than when she left, and black has seeped into the skin under her eyes. What the fuck? I’m on my feet and about to rush to her, but something in her eyes, a plea and small shake of her head tells me to stay. “Al—Princess?”
“Please don’t get up for me.” Her hands wave at us to continue as though my heart isn’t beating out of my chest to reach hers. “I only stopped by to say good night.”
Jakob and Mr. Yamagata wish her a good night as if she’s not standing there falling apart inside. Bennett steps forward, concerned as well. Not even looking at his daughter, her father dismisses her as if she’s a bother. “Night.”
Our eyes catch once more when she turns to leave. The door closes, and I’m on the move. “I’m retiring for the night. Bennett will handle the chips. Good night, gentlemen.”
Swinging the door open, I run into Duke Dick’s smug grin and shiny gold epaulets. “Where are you rushing off to, Everest?”
“Pardon me.” I push past him because I don’t give a shit about him. Only Ally.
“Stay and play a few hands. I was hoping to take your money.”
His arrogance seems to be amped up tonight. Why’s he so fucking cocky? I stop to get a real good look at him. “Where have you been?”
Bennett appears in the doorway when Dick’s grin turns down. “Strolling with the princess.”
“Strolling, huh?”
“That’s what we’re calling it.”
A click of the tongue and boys’ club wink are about to send me charging into him, but Bennett grabs his arm and tugs him into the room. “We’ve been waiting for you.” My brother kicks the door closed, and I’m left with this anger boiling inside.
If he touched one hair on her head, I’ll end that motherfucker.
Fuck him.
I need her.
Taking the stairs by three to the second floor, I stop on the landing, knowing I’m not supposed to be on the third floor, much less knocking on her door. Her words come back to me. “Stick to the outside edges of the walkway and the camera won’t catch you.”
I rush toward the red curtains on this floor as I decide if it’s best to take the stairs or find another way when I hear, “Psst.”
Looking around, I don’t see anyone at first, but when I hear it again, I make out a small woman at the far end of the floor, closer to my door. With deep red cheeks and messy blond hair sprouting out from under a white handkerchief, she smiles.
“Me?” I ask, pointing at my chest as I move quickly in that direction.
“Yes, you’re Hutton.”
She’s not asking me, but I feel the need to still confirm. “Yes, I’m Hutton.”
“Come here,” she demands, waving me over to her. I bend down, and she squeezes my cheek. What the hell? “You’re just as handsome as our Belle said.”
Ally’s talked about me? I like that. “She did, huh?”
“She’s sweet on you.”
Grabbing my hand, she pulls me down a hall. “That’s good to hear because I’m sweet on her.” She can’t be more than five foot, but she’s ox strong. “Who are you?”
“Birgit. I’m head cook for the Sutcliffes. Have been since Queen Aemilia was a princess herself.”
Her joy is contagious when I shake her hand, and I smile in response. “Nice to meet you, Birgit. Now where are you taking me?”
“To the staff stairs.” She opens a door, and I walk inside. “You won’t get caught by the family or any of the other guests if you use this stairwell.”
The stairs are black, and the cream-colored walls have many years’ worth of handprints staining them. “Will I get in trouble for using these stairs?”
“Belle used these stairs her whole life when she wanted to get around without being seen.”
We climb slowly to the next floor. She�
��s not quick, but Birgit is friendly, entertaining, and I like that she protects Ally. I open the door on the third floor for her, but she shoos me. “Go. Be quick, and no one should see you.”
“Thank you. It was nice to meet you.” I’m not sure what to do—shake a hand, walk away, or hug her.
Beating me to the punch, she says. “I’m a married woman. Keep your googly eyes on Belle.”
I laugh, but then realize I need to keep my voice down. Whispering, I say, “He’s a lucky man.”
“Toot scootin’, he is. Like you. You’re a very lucky man to have caught not only her eyes but also her heart. Take care of it. It’s softer than folks realize.”
I realize. “I will.”
Checking this floor for any movement, I don’t see any, so I make a run for Ally’s door. I knock once, and then again before it swings opens, and I’m pulled in.
Pressed against the wood paneling, she rests against me, putting her head on my chest. “I’m so glad you’re here, Hutton.”
“Are you all right?” My arms wrap around her, and I hold her tight. She’s so small in my arms, even smaller when she’s sad. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Sweetheart?” She rests her chin on my chest and looks at me with the true youth of her years residing in her eyes.
“My Ally. My girl. My baby. My princess. My sweetheart. You’re all those things and more to me.”
“Your girl?” she says, her emotions choking her.
I kiss the tip of her nose and then caress her cheeks and kiss her forehead. “Definitely my girl.” When she begins to tear up, I say, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I was a fool. I thought all fairy tales had happy endings.”
“Ours does.” My words are quieter, and although I know what I’m saying, tasting the words means so much more.
Innocence. Trust. Love. Her irises are filled with everything she feels for me. “I wish we were going to New York sooner. I want to escape, to leave this place for a little while.”
“We can go anytime you want.”
Excitement gleams in her skies. “We can?”
“I only have to make a phone call, and the jet will be ready when we are.” It’s the first time I’ve gotten a good look of her in the low light of the room. She’s washed her face clean of makeup, and her hair is down and silky brown. But her fingers twist around my shirt, tugging it free. “I want to be with you.”
“I’m here.” Tilting my head to the side, I want to see her eyes. Desperation colors her expression, so I stroke her cheek, hoping to ease whatever aches she’s feeling inside. “I’m here for you. What do you need, baby?”
“You. Always. Kiss me, Hutton.”
When I do kiss her, her lips take mine, and my tie is pushed to the side, and my shirt is yanked up. As much as I love being with her, having her desire me, something about this doesn’t sit well. I stop the frenzy and hold her hands between us. “What’s wrong? What happened with Dick?”
Her panting breaths heat my chest as she stares straight ahead. “Nothing. I just missed you.”
“Then why aren’t you looking me in the eyes?”
She never shies away from a challenge. Her bright eyes find mine, and she angles her chin up. “I am.”
“Now. You are now, but something is wrong. Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I want to have sex with you. Is that not good enough?”
“Good enough?” What a fucking strange way to put it. “You’re good enough. If anything’s not, it’s me even having a chance to spend time with you. So you wanting me is more than good, but something else is going on with you. Something happened, and we’re not burying this conversation under a physical act. Tell me what happened that has upset you so much. What happened with Dick?”
Turning her back to me, she lowers her head as she walks toward the bed. “I told him no.”
“No?” I stare at her. A roar becomes a rage. “No to what, Ally?”
She looks back at me. “To marrying him.” Tears sparkle in her eyes like diamonds, but I wish they had the same pretty shine. “And to his advances.”
My heart stops beating. Images from earlier—makeup smeared and a crooked tiara barely hanging on to messed-up hair—flood my mind. My next question comes slow, the words calculated. “And then what happened?”
“He didn’t take no for an answer.”
23
Princess Arabelle
Quiet . . .
Pretty and quiet.
Don’t make a sound.
“Hutton?” Like every other rule in my life, I manage to break the cardinal palace rule. I never was good at following them. “Wait, Hutton,” I shout, holding the railing and reeling around it.
He only had a two-second head start out the door, but he’s a lot faster than I am. Running barefoot isn’t helping me. The echo of the door slamming against the wall reaches my ears, and I pick up my pace, running down the stairs.
A loud roar rips from Hutton’s chest, and I hear the sound of a table breaking before I reach the door. Entering the media room, I come to a rapid halt, covering my mouth in horror.
Hutton yells at the top of his lungs, “You’re a fucking dead man,” while Bennett pulls him back. Chips have exploded around the room, and a bloody-nosed Dick lies on top of the broken poker table. Jakob stands between the two men with his arms out wide.
Mr. Yamagata leans against the buffet laughing. I move in front of Hutton, pushing my hands against his chest. “Hutton. Please,” I plead, “stop.”
“Stop?” He turns his ire on me. “He forced himself on you, and you want me to stop?”
“Yes, I do.”
Bennett loosens his hold on his brother and tells him, “Let’s go. That fucker’s not worth your time.”
His anger coats every breath. His eyes are locked on Dick as though he’s eyeing his prey. Swear words I’ve never heard before fill the air, but I hold my hands to him, hoping he backs down.
I had hoped my father would have already retired for the night and not been here to witness this, but my eyes close in defeat when I hear him speak. “You’re a princess dressed like a whore. You’ve been nothing but trouble, and you’ll never be queen.” What? He’s making this about me?
My hands fall from Hutton’s chest as I look at what I’m wearing—boxer shorts and a cutoff concert tee that hangs off one shoulder. No socks. No shoes. No bra. I can’t look my father in the eyes. I don’t want to see how much I’ve disappointed him. Have I finally lost the last of the love he had for me? “I apologize. I didn’t expect to leave my room tonight.”
My reason will be seen as an excuse because I was raised that even in private, I should be dressed appropriately. I’ve failed my family name again, and now I’ve shamed them.
I look up into Hutton’s usually comforting, warm eyes, but even he can’t save me from the humiliation coursing through me. Tears sting my cheeks as they topple over my lower lids. Hutton reaches out to wipe them away, but I take a step back, knowing I can’t make another wrong move or my father’s threat will become a reality. He says, “Don’t let them win, Ally.”
“They already did.”
My father demands, “Get away from daughter, Mr. Everest, and pack your belongings. I want you out of my home immediately.”
Hutton hits my father with a harsh glare. “No problem, Prince.” Holding out a hand, he whispers, “We can go to New York together just like you wanted. We’ll leave tonight.”
My father sets his drink down, the Scotch spilling over the lip of the glass. “How dare you proposition a Brudenbourg princess like she’s a streetwalker.”
“Your words. Not mine.”
“Leave before I have you arrested or maybe you’ve missed your natural habitat.”
“Fuck you,” Hutton replies, treating my father like he’s bothersome gnat. Turning back to me, he changes his demeanor, softening toward me. “Come with me, Ally.”
Dick pushes off the broken table and holds his head
back. With his eyes on us, he asks, “Why do you keep calling her Ally?”
Jakob steps into the mix. “What are you doing, Hutton? That’s my sister.”
Bennett comes around and drops his shoulders. “You need to step back, Jakob.”
“Or what?” My brother’s hand pushes my hip. “Get back, Belle.”
I hate the pain I’ve caused my family. “It’s okay, Jakob. He won’t hurt me.”
Hutton calls my name. When I look at him, he says, “I’ll take you anywhere. I’ll give you anything you need.”
Dick yells, “What the hell is going on?”
As if my wounds weren’t deep enough, Margie shows up. I brace myself for the betrayal, but it doesn’t come. She walks over with a robe I don’t recognize and wordlessly drapes it over my shoulders.
My brother is as confused as my father, and asks again, “Belle, what’s going on?”
Glancing at my father, I say, “You can take away what’s rightfully mine, but that will only change history. I’ll live on.”
“Somewhere else,” he says, “if you walk out with him.”
Jakob touches my arm. “Don’t do this, sis.”
“I’m not. He is,” I say, gesturing to our father. I take Hutton’s hand and start to leave. “I just have to pack a few things.”
To my back, my father shouts, “Everything you own is Brudenbourg property. You own nothing, so you’ll take nothing.”
I never look back. It’s not an image I want to remember my father by because he wasn’t always that mean. Outside the media room, Hutton stops me. “You don’t have to do this for me. I love you. I’ll love you if you stay. You don’t have to give up anything for me.”
“I’m not giving up anything. I’ll fight. It just won’t be tonight. Everyone is too heated to make sense. A few days off and a few days apart will be good for all of us. It will be fine.”
“Will you be?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I’m always fine.” I exhale, not wanting to be like this with him. I don’t have to be strong with Hutton. I get to be me. I squeeze his hand. “I am. Come on. I can help you pack.”