To Steal a Groom

by Cora Caraway

  Damon steps between us. “That’s enough.”

  “Are you blind, that you can’t see right through her?” The queen laughs. “I’ve never seen a more obvious gold digger. She got jewels and diamonds out of you faster than any girl before her. She’s a professional, and it’s sad you can’t see that. You aren’t my son, but I still care for you, Damon. I don’t want to see you waste your time with the likes of her. She’ll take your money and leave you with nothing. Girls like her are all the same.”

  I feel like I’m being eviscerated. I turn away, worried that I might throw up.

  “That’s right, walk away,” Sarina crows. “Get Damon to follow you like a lost puppy. You’ve already seduced him, haven’t you? I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s all you have to offer him.”

  My face heats, and I’m sure it must be bright red. Everyone’s staring at me, a still, silent crowd all around. They know that I had sex with Damon. My face must make it obvious. But what if they believe the other parts as well, that I’m just with him for the money and fame? That all I wanted from him was a diamond? Worst of all, what if I’m lying to myself, and it’s true?

  The prince wraps an arm around me, murmuring loving words that I can’t quite make out. I know he trusts me, believes in me, but the panic is rising deep in my heart.

  Sarina sets her hands on her hips. “If you only do one smart thing in your life, Damon, take that ring from her here and now. She’s trying to tear this family apart. She doesn’t belong in it. She should never be a Lion.”

  I gasp, trying to draw breath. She wants Damon to choose between me and his family? No one in their right mind would choose me. Even my own family wouldn’t. Didn’t. I’ve had no one my whole life, and maybe there’s a reason for that. If my own mother doesn’t love me, if my father can turn his back on me, then something must be wrong with me. My stomach heaves, sending bits of shrimp and scallops all over the lawn. I kneel on the grass as it all comes up, shaking too hard to cry.

  I retch until my stomach’s empty. My arms tremble as my palms dig into the earth. Maybe I could scoop out a hole to curl up and die in.

  Wordlessly, Damon picks me up. I turn my face away from him, not wanting to get vomit on his jacket. Really, though, I don’t want to find scorn on his face. I close my eyes, hoping that no one can see me.

  The air grows fragrant, heavy with the smell of roses. Damon lays me on a bench, propping my head on his thigh.

  “We’re just going to stay here awhile, okay?”

  I nod, hoping I don’t throw up on his mother’s roses. High above, puffy clouds pass. They look far too cheerful for a day like today.

  Damon motions across the grounds, and soon Rashad arrives with a glass of water. I close my eyes until he leaves. Sitting up reluctantly, I take small sips. Once I’ve drained it, Damon takes the glass and sets it on the ground.

  I look at him for a long moment. “You’re still here?”

  “Of course I am.” He puts a hand on my cheek.

  “You chose me?”

  “I’ll always choose you.” He kisses me on the forehead. “Are you feeling any better?”

  “A little. I’m not sure if I can ever leave this garden though.”

  He smiles, gently rubbing my back. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re dealing with. The Lion family has had more intrigue and scandal than you could imagine. There’ll be something bigger for everyone to gossip about soon enough. Maybe even by the end of the day.”

  I grimace. There’s a little too much truth in that. Even though I’ll come off looking horrible if Natalia really did lie to me, I hope for Marc’s sake that she did. I shudder at the thought of standing at the altar alone, waiting for my groom as everyone looks on pityingly.

  We sit among the flowers until the noise around us dies down. When I finally pluck up the courage to peek outside, I find a wedding scene that looks ripped from a magazine. Everything’s perfect. Silver plates are laid out on rows of tables, flags fly from the tents, and empty chairs are set in neat rows.

  Marc makes a dashing groom in his tux, though I’m not sold on his slicked-back hair. He stands by the arbor, shifting from foot to foot and checking his watch every two minutes. My heart wrenches for him. I think part of him knows what’s coming.

  Servants cluster by the back doors, glancing at Marc every now and then, obviously waiting to see what the next development will be in today’s little drama.

  A set of doors flies open. All heads turn. Marc practically leaps toward the sound. But it’s the king. Marc’s face falls. Darius goes to his son, leans in, and delivers the news. Marc staggers. Darius catches him, pats him awkwardly on the back. He clasps his shoulder for a moment, then walks away, no doubt to fetch Sarina. Deep, emotional talks don’t seem to be the king’s strong suit. Marc sinks to the ground, sitting alone before the arbor.

  It’s all too much. I start toward him, but Damon stops me.

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “Maybe it’s best to leave him be.”

  “Not now. I need to try, anyway.”

  “All right.” Damon walks with me, but stops a short distance away.

  I sit beside Marc. His face is a rictus of pain. Tears wet his cheeks and drip to the ground.

  “I’m really sorry,” I say. I reach out a hand to comfort him, then draw it back, uncertain. Does he even want me here? Maybe I should have thought of that before marching over here.

  Marc lets out a sob, and I can’t help it. I put an arm around him, rubbing his back like I would a small child. He’s really heartbroken.

  “I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt you like this.” I know it’s a lie, but if it helps, I don’t care.

  He turns to me, his eyes red. “Why would she do this?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s better this way. She did you a favor, really. She set you free. You don’t want to be married to someone who would do this to you.”

  Marc stares out over the empty seats. “I really loved her, you know.” He buries his face in his hands.

  “I know.”

  He looks up at me, as if seeing me for the first time. “This is all your fault, isn’t it?” He clenches his fists. “Go away. Leave me alone!”

  I rise, stumbling in the face of his sudden vehemence. Damon catches me, steering me away from Marc. His half-brother sobs openly, shouting at me with incoherent rage. From the corner of my eye, I see the king watching from a doorway. I hope he isn’t mad at me. I was only trying to help.

  A fat load of good that did.

  Nic catches our attention. “Darius wants me to check the villa,” he says, “just in case someone’s there. You want to come with?”

  I look at Damon. “I’ll go.”

  “You’re not going without me this time.”

  I lean into him. “I won’t argue with that.”

  Nic leads us to a car where Gabe and Rashad are waiting.

  “Do you think there are enough of us?” I ask. “What’s the plan, are we going to tranquilize her?”

  “I like it,” Gabe drawls, “We could donate her to a zoo.”

  Rashad drives. I feel a bit ill when I see the sign for Fief Street, and I’m glad my friends are around me. I’m not sure I could ever come here alone again.

  The guard waves us through the gates without looking up from his newspaper. His dog barks at us, tail wagging. I think he wants to be petted. Rashad takes us up the drive, parking by the door. It’s eerily quiet as we step from the car.

  “Hello?” Damon calls. “Natalia?”

  I knock on the door, but no one answers. Just as I’m about to get my lock picks, Gabe tries the door. It opens, and we step inside the entryway. The pink suitcases are gone. Our calls for Natalia echo through the halls.

  “What’s this?” Nic bends down behind a couch, and comes back up with Booboo in his arms. “This poor dog is shaking like a leaf.” He hoists Booboo in one hand, and the dog yelps.

  “You’re scaring him!” Gabe says.

  Booboo writhes
in Nic’s arms. I’m not sure if it’s the bodyguard’s size or deep voice, but Booboo is clearly not a fan. Twisting, the little dog launches himself out of Nic’s grasp and into Gabe’s arms.

  “Oh no,” Gabe says. “Absolutely not.”

  Booboo licks his face.

  “Don’t try your tricks on me. I’m not a dog person.”

  “I am.” Rashad reaches out to scratch Booboo behind the ears. “And he’s so cute. Look at his little paws. Can we keep him?”

  Gabe looks to me for help, but I shrug. I don’t know what he expects me to do. Sighing, he admits defeat. “Fine. Better than a lion, I suppose.”

  Booboo wags his tail furiously.

  We drive back to the palace, and report that there was no sign of Natalia at the villa. I wonder if she’s already halfway to Andova. With the trail of wreckage she left in her wake, I can’t say I’m going to miss her. She can’t get far enough away to satisfy me.

  While the others are talking to the king, I pull Damon aside. “I’m sorry if this is a bad time, but were you and Natalia ever … together?”

  Damon fixes me with a level glance. “Do you really want to get into that?”

  “No, but I need to know. I can’t help that it’s bothering me. Natalia has this way of…”

  “Driving everyone insane? I should know, I dated her. Only at the request of both sets of our parents, of course. She’s demanding. And selfish. And impossible to please. That was just in the restaurant. This may surprise you, but the combination doesn’t exactly make for a very romantic evening.”

  “So you never…”

  “I wasn’t too keen on showing her my bedroom, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I feel the strangest sense of relief. “I know it’s silly, but of all the people you could have slept with, I’m glad you didn’t sleep with her.”

  Damon grins. “Me too.”

  “Pardon me,” Darius says, “but I’d like to speak with my son. And his fiancée.”

  The others leave to give us an audience with the king. I move close to Damon, bracing for a lecture.

  “Grace,” the king says, “I wanted to thank you for trying to comfort Marc. I know he doesn’t always act his best, but this was a dark hour for him. I’d appreciate it if you both could be there for him, even if he isn’t the most receptive at the moment.”

  “Of course, Your Majest—Darius,” I say.

  “I can only hope that your wedding will be less eventful.”

  Honestly, I’m feeling a bit burned out on weddings right now, but it’s probably not a great idea to tell the king that. And, unless I’m mistaken, he just referred to our wedding without sounding upset that it’s happening. That’s quite an improvement.

  “I think you should get away for a few days, try to relax,” the king says. “Go to Turtle Island. Consider it my wedding gift to you.”

  “Thank you so much,” I say. “A vacation is just what we need right now.”

  The king smiles. “The vacation is only part of the gift, of course.”

  It seems like I’ve missed something. “What’s the other part?”

  “The island.” Darius winks at us, then walks away, humming.

  15

  I turn to Damon, still confused. “He’s joking, right? He wouldn’t just give us an island.”

  “My father’s not really the joking type.” Damon puts an arm around my shoulder. “He’s not one for small gestures, either. Would you like to give it back?” he teases. “Trade for a toaster, maybe?”

  “I’d never reject a gift from your father. I just didn’t expect something like that. I didn’t know there were enough islands in the world that people could give them out like party favors.” I pause. “What do you do with an island, anyway?”

  “You lie on its beaches, and relax.” He grins. “Would you like to try it?”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow morning, perhaps? I think we both deserve a break, just for surviving these past few days.”

  I can’t argue with that. Around us, activity has begun again, only this time servants are collapsing tables, and taking chairs and dishes back from whence they came. “Should we help get this wedding stuff cleaned up?”

  Damon cracks his knuckles. “Sounds good. All this frippery is making me a bit queasy, to be honest. I’m glad there are no other Lion men for Natalia to try and sink her claws into.”

  He goes to help dismantle one of the tents, but a servant turns him away.

  “Please,” the man says, “do something safer, for my sake. I’d never hear the end of it if one of these poles fell on you.”

  The prince retreats. “I guess I’m lucky they let me drive.”

  “Don’t be sad.” I push a length of fabric into his arms. “There are plenty of tablecloths to fold.”

  To his credit, he doesn’t grumble. He takes two corners of the tablecloth and folds it with me. We get to a point where we need to put our ends together, and when we meet in the middle he brushes his cool lips against mine. I laugh at the romantic gesture in the middle of such a mundane task.

  It’s a nice change though, doing simple chores with Damon. I don’t need wild parties, fine dinners, or futuristic jet rides. I just want to be with him. I’d choose folding tablecloths any day if it’s with him.

  “I’ll take it from here,” he says. I’m totally distracted by his smile, and unprepared when he jerks the cloth forward, wrenching it from my grasp. There’s a ripping sound as the fabric tears, caught on my diamond ring. We both stare at the ugly rent in the fabric. The tablecloth has been destroyed.

  “Oh.” Damon frowns. “I’m not sure even Eris could fix that.”

  I look at my ring, the diamond blurring as tears drip from my eyes.

  “Grace?” He sets the fabric aside. “Are you okay? It’s just a tablecloth, we can buy a new one.”

  The diamond dances in my vision. It’s not just that it ruined the happy moment we were having. When I look at the stone, I see my mother’s fractured face, the gleam in her eyes as she sought to secure it for herself. I see the queen, urging Damon to take it away from me. Their expressions are repeated over and over in the million facets of the diamond, each overflowing with scorn and hate. There are too many bad memories in this ring.

  I find myself gasping, shuddering uncontrollably. Damon rushes to me, helping me sit in the grass. Taking in deep breaths, I try to calm myself. I’d like to avoid making another spectacle.

  “I’m sorry,” I say at last. “It’s just that everyone seems to want this ring for themselves. Or, at least, taken from me. It’s like it brings out the ugliness in people. I didn’t know a simple stone could be capable of such destruction.” I watch him as I draw in a shaky breath. I don’t want to hurt him. “Would it be all right if I don’t wear it?”

  He puts his arms around me. “Do whatever you want with it. I got it because I wanted you to be happy. Do whatever makes you happy.”

  Then it comes to me. I know what I need to do with it. And how to fix the problem that’s been niggling at me.

  I jump up. “I need to go.”

  “Where?” Damon reaches out to hold my hand, as if he wants to keep me with him.

  “It’s a secret.”

  He frowns. “I thought we agreed to no more secrets.”

  “We agreed to no more bad secrets. You’ll like this one.”

  The prince stands, putting his arms around my waist. “I’m not allowed to come with you then?”

  “I won’t be gone long.”

  He purses his lips, considering. “Will you accompany me to our new island when you get back? Just you and me, and no one else?”

  “No one else?” I press myself against him. “You promise?”

  “Well, I might ask Nic to pilot the yacht. But I’ll tell him to be very, very quiet.”

  “You have a deal.” I stand on my tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. “I’ll be back soon.”

  I borrow Nic’s car, the black one that has the keys in i
t. I’d ask him to use it if I had time to find him, but I’m sure he’ll understand the importance of my mission. And thinking of asking him is almost as good as actually doing so. I turn the key in the ignition. It’s the thought that counts.

  I drive into the city, past the glimmering buildings and busy squares. I know what I’m looking for is around here somewhere.

  There. I screech to a halt, staring at the rows of polished cars. I’ve found it. The Galeocerdo dealership.

  I turn into the lot, suddenly nervous. All the cars seem too close, and I don’t want to scratch any of them. They’re all breathtaking.

  Pulling into an empty space, I start to worry. What if they don’t take me seriously? What I’m about to ask for is, after all, a little bit crazy. But I’ll try. For Damon.

  The asphalt is baking. I hurry into the glass building, relieved by the air conditioning. That’s when I see it. It’s on an elevated platform that rotates so I can see every inch of it. With its sleek lines and subtle curves, it looks less like a car and more like a work of art. Painted a burnished bronze, it’s hard to tell that it’s not a sculpture. Only the tires give it away.

  I walk closer, hardly daring to breathe. It’s perfect. Damon would love it. The only problem is that it seems to be way out of my price range.

  “Do you like what you see?” A man in a crisp suit and tie has appeared by my shoulder.

  “How could I not?” As much as I want to be polite, I can’t take my eyes off that beautiful machine.

  “Don’t feel bad staring, she’s not shy.” He sticks out a hand. “I’m Roger.”

  “Grace.”

  We shake.

  “I can tell you have good taste. This is our latest model, the Requiem. And let me tell you, she can run. It’s like being pulled by 1,000 of the world’s finest horses.” He pushes a button on the wall, and the platform stops rotating. It sinks into the floor until the car is at our level.