Her Secret Prince

by Madeline Ash

  “Cool. Do you have other kids?”

  “No.”

  “Married?”

  He hesitated. “No.”

  She turned to Jed as her foot hooked around his calf under the table. “And what are we thinking in terms of sticking around for a few days? You know, to give you two some time to get to know each other.” She gave her own opinion on the matter by nodding as she spoke. Less subliminal messaging, more blatant persuasion.

  He held her gaze. “Not sure yet.”

  “Because we passed some quaint little places on our way in that could be perfect for me while you two bond.”

  “No, please,” Oscar said. “If you stay, I’ll organize a room for you at the castle.”

  Jed pressed a hand to his forehead as Dee rounded on Oscar, exclaiming, “This place has a castle?”

  With a small wince, the sovereign prince of Leguarday nodded.

  “With royalty in it?”

  Another nod and a swift apologetic glance at Jed.

  “And you could really get us a room there?”

  He inclined his head, in too deep to back out now. “I could make some calls.”

  “Wow.” Eyes wide behind her glasses, Dee reached out and gripped Jed’s forearm. “You can’t say no.”

  “Can’t I?” he murmured.

  Her shoulders sagged. “A castle, Jed, with actual royalty. Imagine if we see a real live prince.”

  The two real live princes at the table looked at each other. Oscar raised a helpless shoulder.

  “Okay.” Jed sighed. “But only if it’s no inconvenience.”

  Dee faced Oscar. “Or only a small-to-medium sized inconvenience.”

  Jed’s father smiled. “If we’re accepting medium inconveniences, I might even be able to arrange a personalized”—and here he met Jed’s eye meaningfully—“tour.”

  He hoped to heaven that personalized meant no portraits of the royal family. Guilt squirmed through him, growing thicker by the second. He’d lied to her. His wonderful Dee, whose buoyancy—or was it ignorance—had the royal guardsmen exchanging amused glances across the room. He was making a fool of her. Resolve set in his heart.

  He would tell her today.

  Regardless of whether he’d figured out how Oscar would fit into his life; how to realistically deal with having a prince as a father. One thing had become plain since arriving in the café—his father bore no resemblance to the threat he’d always envisioned. Jed’s mother had lied, thinking she was protecting him, effectively cutting him off from a man who seemed as compassionate as he did powerful. He knew instinctively Oscar was worth his time and his future. That, at least, he could tell Dee with conviction.

  “Now that’s settled.” Dee picked up a menu from the table. “Who’s hungry?”

  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  Dee couldn’t believe her luck. This was quickly becoming the trip of a lifetime. First a darling old cottage and now a genuine stone castle from the eighteenth century, tucked bold and breathtaking between two mountains not far out of town, home to modern-day royalty. By the end of lunch, Oscar had made some calls and arranged a tour of the castle and sprawling grounds. Their guide was a woman named Monique, who greeted them in the front hall with a delightfully formal bow, first towards Jed, then Dee.

  As they set off into the blustery afternoon, Dee asked, “So Mon, how do you know Oscar?”

  The woman appeared to bite her tongue and swallow it. Then she said, “I work for him.”

  “Is he a good boss?” She elbowed Jed lightly in the side. “You can tell a lot about a person from how they treat their subordinates, you know.”

  He looked pained, but nodded.

  “He is wonderful.” Monique tugged her coat tighter about her neck and gestured to the mountains and heavy green trees growing thick beyond the castle. “As you can see, Leguarday is picturesque with its coniferous forests to the south and great lake to the east.” Lush grass coated the low hills in the other directions, scattered with rustic homes and vineyards. “In winter, tourists come to hike and ski in the slopes, and in summer, they come to swim and ski on the crystal blue water. The beauty of the city lies in the kindness of its people, the richness of its culture, and the history of its architecture.” Renaissance and medieval structures stood in the oldest parts of town, complimented by a magnificent gothic cathedral in the city center. The castle itself was also gothic, with slim towers, narrow windows, and delicate flourishes. There were turrets and gables, balconies and pinnacles. Leguarday’s state flag snapped at the top of the tallest tower—the coat of arms on a background of white and blue.

  It was magical.

  If Dee thought the grounds were extensive, the inside of the castle was endless. Four stories tall and plump with sweeping staircases and tall corridors, marble floors and chandeliers, rooms and more rooms that only had a place in the home of royalty. A throne room, for heaven’s sake, and a sparkling grand ballroom. Monique pointed out an entire wing dedicated to servants, still in use today. Dee gasped and sighed, wanting to spend days here, weeks, eternity, running her fingers along tapestries and climbing to the tallest spires. She was enamored by everything she saw.

  Jed, not so much.

  He regarded everything like it was a personal affront, as if the centuries-old stone was an insult to his very nature. Did he appreciate the luscious views of land and sky, the green valleys and snowy peaks? No. Did he marvel over the stables and walk-in aviary? Not even a “humph”. Did he express any interest in peeking through the doors to the royal living quarters, closed off to general public? No. On that front, he was no help whatsoever.

  “You could have created a diversion, at least,” she said to him, following as Monique led them back to their guest quarters. “I’d love to see how the other half live.”

  He flicked an impatient hand around them. “You’re seeing it.”

  She frowned. “I was joking.”

  Jaw tight, he didn’t answer.

  Stopping at the door to their room, Monique tilted her head with a smile and asked, “What did you think?”

  “Loved it.” Dee beamed at her. “Thank you so much.”

  “And you, sir?”

  Jed was still lost in his own world of dissatisfaction. “It’s implausible.”

  “It’s a shame we didn’t see a prince,” Dee said, peering around Monique as several people approached down the hall. “It would be exciting, wouldn’t it?”

  “Very,” the tour guide agreed after a hesitation.

  “What’s the royal family name, anyway?”

  “Montaigne.”

  “How gorgeous.” Dee splayed a hand over her heart. “Are they gorgeous?”

  Monique glanced at Jed, who promptly turned and marched into the guest chambers.

  “Exquisite,” she replied.

  *

  “What is your problem?”

  The bedroom door clunked shut across the room. In a glance, Jed saw Dee’s arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Not a great lead-in to his confession, he knew, but considering the chaos tearing him up like a maelstrom, he thought he’d behaved rather well. Stiffly, he turned to look back out the window as Dee continued. “So what if your imagination doesn’t extend to the fairy-tale? You could at least be polite. This is supposed to be fun.”

  The city spread out below him. His father’s city, rich with a heritage and history he knew nothing about. A history he suddenly ached to learn and a heritage he could no longer deny.

  The tour had rocked him.

  Look at this, and this, and this—these are the holes in your soul. The holes you’ve always felt, empty and echoing, as you were dragged ignorantly around the world. But you were not dragged home. These are the reasons you’ve never felt whole, all right here, if only you’d known.

  He knew now.

  The key to feeling whole, feeling grounded, was right beneath his feet.

  Leguarday was in his blood.

  The chaos churned, threatening a dec
ision of unprecedented gravity. The last thing he’d expected was to consider this life. He’d made no plans, no preparations. He had no defense against the impact of his homeland. It wasn’t greed or power that moved inside him, tempted by a life of control, but something far greater.

  Belonging.

  He couldn’t stop his heart rushing over the sensation, manic like a beggar who’d stumbled upon paradise.

  “I’m preoccupied,” he finally answered.

  “And I’m not?” Dee stalked across the room, ignoring the resplendent bed hangings and lush carpet. “I’ve got a script due in four days and no idea how it ends. But Monique just gave up two hours of her day as a favor to her boss and you didn’t even say thank you.”

  “I’m Oscar’s son,” he stated numbly, turning to look at her.

  She paused, tilting her head. A little of the fire left her eyes. Then she sighed, sympathy winning out. “I know.”

  “He lives here.” In this castle, this palace.

  She put a hand on his arm. “I know, honey.”

  “He rules here.” In this city state, halfway across the world from Los Angeles.

  Dee’s head angled a little further, and he felt his world tilt with it. “What do you mean?”

  “He rules.” Jed tried to swallow the guilt in his throat, but it was secured with merit. “This city. These people. Oscar is…he’s the sovereign prince.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake.” She rolled her eyes. “I thought we were about to have a serious conversation.”

  “We are.” He grabbed her hand as she turned away and she let herself be held. Unimpressed, she faced him, and dismayed, he said, “I’m so sorry, Dee. It’s the truth.”

  “What is? That Oscar’s a prince? Are you making fun of me because I like this place?” She looked genuinely peeved. “Because that is so lame and not at all funny.”

  “I’m not.” But of course it sounded like it. The notion was madness. Jed pulled his phone from his pocket and with an unsteady hand, brought up the website Felix had sent him. In a castle filled with confirmation, he let her find out as he had. Wordless, he passed it to her.

  Exhaling through her teeth, Dee plucked the phone off him. Then she read. She frowned at first. Tilted her head again. Readjusted her glasses and brought the screen closer.

  “So. Wait.” She tapped around and seemed to find an answer. Again and again, for minutes that stretched him like torture. She scoffed and hummed, until finally the phone lowered and she pinned him with the betrayal in her eyes. “Wait.”

  Jed swallowed around the guilt. There’d be no moving it, not in this lifetime.

  “So Oscar isn’t actually your father?” She looked how he’d felt at the airport. Struggling to understand what it all meant and failing horribly. “Is this some devastating misunderstanding? I mean, it makes sense, because you guys look seriously alike, but he seemed so happy at lunch. You both did. Did you not know yet, that you weren’t his son?”

  “It’s not a misunderstanding.” He held her stare even though it killed him. “My mum confirmed it. Oscar is my biological father.”

  An unbelievable yet inevitable conclusion found itself in her eyes. She frowned. “So you’re…”

  “If Oscar claims me as his son,” Jed said. “Then yes, I’m a prince.”

  “You’re a prince.” After a moment, her brows rose and he saw typical Dee amusement twist her lips. The whole thing was outrageous. Of course she’d find it hysterical. She pointed a finger and said, “You’re a prince?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re a prince.” She gave a single nod.

  And then she laughed.

  She laughed so hard she doubled over. She clutched at his arms, laughing until she no longer made sound. Jed stood silently, letting her grip slide down his wrist to his fingers, letting her forehead press against his chest. She splayed a hand over his heart and went right on laughing. He said nothing as she struggled to regain her breath, nothing as she straightened and hauled herself under control. Then another peal of disbelief bubbled forth and she was off again, laughing like she’d never heard such a joke in all her life.

  His darling Dee laughed until she cried.

  Not tears of amusement, in the end, but those of a most gut-wrenching pain. She lowered herself onto the window seat, fingers mangled together on her lap, staring up at him with tears still running. “You knew?” The words tumbled out with her pain. “You knew before the tour?”

  Numb once more, Jed inclined his head.

  “How did Oscar tell you?”

  God. “He didn’t.”

  “What?” Bafflement blinked around her tears. “But then…when? How?”

  Finding words was like finding an answer to this hell-bound situation. “Felix looked into it and he…at the airport. Paris.”

  “Paris.” She inhaled in a jagged gulp. “You mean you found out yesterday? And you didn’t tell me?” She shook her head. “That’s got to be a bad sign.”

  Jed hated that he couldn’t reassure her.

  “I mean, you had the Prince pretend not to be a prince so you could keep lying to me. That is definitely a bad sign.” The words were directed to herself as her arms wrapped around her middle. “Really, really bad.”

  “I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Always trust a man who lies by default.”

  That stung him. “I’m telling you now. I’ve been trying to get my head around being royalty, Dee. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Yesterday,” she repeated, hurt pounding across her face. “But that means, last night…you knew.”

  Shamed, he looked away.

  “You promised me.” Confusion now, sweeping in to give his guilt no escape. “Last night you promised you’d come home with me. But you knew. How could you make a promise like that, when you knew you were secretly royalty?”

  “I stand by my promise.”

  Those smart blue eyes stared at him. Stripped of all good humor and easy-going acceptance, she stared. Then, “You’re lying.”

  “No.” Jed balled his hands, trying to hold this decision firm. Dee was everything he wanted. So how, how, could he be thinking of staying? “No.”

  Her face fell and the tears returned. “Don’t, please.” She shook her head. “Jed, don’t lie to me. You can’t make promises when you don’t know what you want.”

  He shoved a palm over his eyes.

  Thickly, she said, “You need to make a decision. You have to know what you want.”

  “But I’m so confused,” he whispered.

  His turmoil intensified when she took his hand. What kind of woman offered support to the man making her cry? She squeezed, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against his chest.

  “Then go talk to your dad.”

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  The room was deliciously warm. The bed was intensely comfortable. Even the tray of syrupy pancakes and hash browns sitting pleasantly on an ancient breakfast table, prepared “at the request of your companion”, should have been cause for delight. Dee enjoyed none of it.

  She curled up in the blankets, breathing in the unfamiliar scent of the castle and wondering why she always ended up alone.

  Jed had gone to find Oscar. Gone to find out what he really wanted, because it seemed, he didn’t know whether Dee crowned the top of that list. She buried her chin into her chest, remembering his words from the night before. I’ve never had a home anywhere. The closest I’ve ever felt to contentment is being with you. Gratifying words, spoken twelve hours too soon.

  Then he’d come home to Leguarday.

  He’d promised to make a life with her. She believed, then and now, that he’d meant it. But meeting his father, seeing this city, had opened a part of him that his mother had kept locked. A dramatic change could easily alter the importance of everything that had come before.

  Dramatic didn’t get much bigger than discovering he was a prince.

  She’d previously resented their
ten years apart; thought she’d doomed their future by moving too fast. How naïve she’d been, upset over a few drops when such a storm was gathering before her.

  Jed was a prince.

  She couldn’t understand it, let alone fight it. If he returned tonight, bearing the devastating decision to stay, she couldn’t hold that against him. A man couldn’t be expected to rate a single person over the future of a nation.

  Tucking her knees against her stomach, she hated the truth. That this was why he’d tracked her down in the first place—to prepare for meeting his father and solving a life of unanswered questions. He hadn’t prepared for a relationship. Their connection had been an unplanned side effect that didn’t extend to this outcome. Even she could understand that a screenwriter from Los Angeles probably wasn’t cut out to support the head of a European principality.

  With difficulty, she pulled her resolve to its feet. She wouldn’t make this any harder for Jed than it already was. She couldn’t imagine the burden he must be feeling. He didn’t need the added guilt of letting her down. She could make it feel like the right decision before she went home, allow him that solace.

  No.

  In the midst of her heartbreak, realization stamped its foot. Hold up. This wasn’t right, acting as if losing Jed was beyond her control.

  Her problem, Dee realized, was that she always supported people in what was important to them. She encouraged her parents to go to Haiti, trying not to think about how she’d be without a family. She never said a word to Alexia about leaving her behind to be with Parker, because love trumped friendship. And here she was, bracing herself to accept Jed’s need to stay in Leguarday. At what point did her life become the most important thing? At what point did she stop supporting and instead demand to be supported?

  She sat up, wiping her face.

  Yeah. Screw this loneliness nonsense.

  It would stop the moment Jed walked back in the door.

  *

  Jed was directed down several cold stone halls, up two wide staircases, and through an imposing set of wooden doors to reach the private royal living quarters of the House of Montaigne. A man posted just inside, back to the wall and chin level with the marble floor, indicated that Prince Oscar II could be found in the drawing room.