Taken by the Prince

by Jewel Killian

  “I’m sure my lawyers can handle it.”

  Serene nodded. “I’m sure they could, but they’re entertainment industry lawyers. My guys are Wall Street finance lawyers. If there’s a way out of paying out your contract, my team will find it, trust me.”

  * * *

  After a few searches, including the average climate in Trisea, where the prince lived, and how to get there, I was packed and boarding Serene’s jet. Ten hours later and the best night of sleep I’ve had in a long time, I got in the waiting car outside Trisea’s tiny airport.

  “On vas?” asked the driver in what I presumed to be Trisean. It sounded like a jumble between French and Spanish, and I was certain if I listened hard and long enough, I could pick it up easily. But I didn’t have time for that.

  “Parles anglès?” I asked.

  “Of course, where are you headed, miss?”

  “The Trisean castle grounds.”

  “Tours are closed on the weekends, miss.”

  “I’m not going for a tour, but thank you.”

  The driver nodded in the rearview mirror, and we sped off toward the castle.

  The drive was gorgeous. I arrived just as the sun peeked over the mountains, streaking the sky with purple and orange light and casting a fairytale-like glow to the city. Once out of the city border, the countryside was even more spectacular. Ancient and well-kept farmhouses dotted the sides of the mountain, and wild Trisean horses with thick manes and speckled coats roamed free in the fields.

  “Et voila, we’re here ma’am,” said the driver as he pulled up to a stately iron gate.

  I couldn’t see the castle. The dense evergreens obscured everything beyond the gate, but the gold finials on the tops of the gate post let me know I was on the right track.

  I thanked him, paid the fare, and approached the gate with my single overnight bag. I labored long and hard over what and how much to bring on the trip, but I was certainly glad I’d erred on the side of too little since it looked like I’d have to climb the gate.

  There was no buzzer, no intercom system. There wasn’t even a bell to ring or a guard to ask for help. I threw my bag over the gate and climbed it slowly, doing my best not to catch my clothes or skin on anything sharp. Unfortunately, climbing up was the easy part. Climbing back down proved quite challenging as my stylish leather boots, specifically chosen for warmth and not grip, slid and slipped down the iron posts. I tried to hold on and slide down intentionally, but momentum overwhelmed me, and I had to let go when my hands started to burn. Before I knew it, I was on the ground, ass-first, staring at the Trisean sky.

  “Motherfucker,” I whispered as my hands when to my rear. That would definitely be an angry bruise later. I picked myself up, grabbed my bag, and headed up the long, winding trail to the castle. It was nice. The weather was crisp enough to keep me walking at a brisk pace, the scenery was absolutely magical with tall evergreens and lovely late-blooming flowers book-ending the narrow road.

  But as the trail went on, the trees grew so dense I couldn’t see the sky, making it impossible to avoid the slippery patches of pine needles in the road. I nearly fell a handful of times, catching my balance just before I met the pavement. I kept going, telling myself I could see the end of the road just ahead. And it was just ahead, but when I reached what I thought was the end of the road, there was no castle, just a hard left turn up the side of the mountain.

  I thought I’d been walking up the “driveway” of the castle, but I quickly realized the cab dropped me off at the bottom of the mountain. I was actually hiking a switchback trail up to a goddamn mountaintop castle. That was why there weren’t any guard at the gate. No one was stupid enough to try to hike up the mountain. I didn’t have any water or food, I didn’t even have the right damn shoes, but I kept going, concentrating only one putting one foot in front of the next.

  Hours went by. My throat, dry and aching for something, anything wet, felt like sandpaper. My thigh muscles twitched and spasmed as I forced myself onward. I was so thirsty, I started seeing things. Butterflies with delicate human-like bodies, and songbirds that seemed to sing encouragement like a damn Disney movie. Then, the biggest hallucination of all—a turreted castle complete with spires and an arched drawbridge—just like something Walt himself would have built.

  I knew it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. No one built castles like that. I knew it, but I approached anyway, telling myself the whole time that if I was crazy, then I’d walk right through it and be that much closer to the real castle.

  I was a step away from the lowered drawbridge. One more step and I’d either be on it, or I’d shatter the mirage.

  “Okay, you can do this, Char,” I said to myself weakly. I counted to three in my head.

  One...

  Two...

  Three...

  I stepped forward, and my foot landed squarely on the solid wooden drawbridge. “Huh, that’s weird,” I said when the other foot felt just as solid as the first. I took a few steps forward, and my head, swimming with thirst and exhaustion, started spinning. The whole mountain seemed to tip on its side as my knees gave out. I fell in slow motion, landing on my palms and knees, feeling the rough-hewn wood of the bridge beneath me as my vision tunneled, and the world slowly went black.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ash

  The council meeting went on for hours. The royal accountants pointed fingers at each other, at the king and queen, at Nathaniel, at everyone but themselves for the corrupt practices plaguing the Trisean economy.

  I called the meeting not knowing what I would find, not sure who was behind this misuse of charitable donations, but certain I would find out who was.

  I stood, tired to my very bones of the bickering and accusations. Everyone at the table, except the king and queen, stood as well. “Sit down,” I snapped at the members of the royal accountancy. They all nodded, sitting slowly as I paced the great room.

  “I’ve listened to this long enough. You,” I said singling out a red-haired accountant who looked too scared to breathe. “Tell me why. Why have the trusted royal accountants been stealing money from the Crown? Why have they created such a web of deception?”

  The man shrank in his seat, glancing quickly at the man I suspected to be calling the shots. “I—I, sir, I mean, Your Highness, I’m just an intern. I don’t know—”

  “Silence,” I said and zeroed in on the person he and every other accountant had hastily glanced at for cues during the entire meeting. “Tell me why, and I’ll be lenient.”

  The man sneered at me, thin lips pressing together in disgust. “I’m sure I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Your Highness.”

  “Take him to the dungeon,” I said to the guard stationed at the door. “Make sure he’s put in a windowless chamber.” To the accountant, I said, “You may see daylight when you’re ready to confess.”

  The man continued to sneer at me, but the corner of his eye twitched, telling me I’d made the right decision. Once he was taken away, I dismissed the rest of the accountants pending the ringleader’s admission of guilt.

  “You handled that well, Ash,” said the king.

  “Thank you, Father,” I said and seated myself at the table once more.

  “Where do we go from here?” the queen asked.

  “I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out, Mother. I’m sure of it.”

  “Why do you suppose he did it?” she asked.

  “Besides making them all very wealthy, I’d assume he took pleasure in stealing money from the Crown, given his arrogant demeanor and clear disdain for me in particular.”

  The door to the great room burst open, a panting, red-faced guard clenching his sides. “Your Highness, there’s an intruder on the grounds.”

  I stood, gesturing to my parents to use the secret passage hidden behind the floor to ceiling painting of the Trisean mountains. “Capture him, and bring him to me for questions.”

  “Your Highness,” the guard said, “the intruder is fema
le and unconscious.

  * * *

  Heart in my throat and stomach twisted in knots, I stood over the bed in the castle’s most opulent guest suite and stared at Charlotte, lips parched, cheeks windburned, and even more beautiful than I remembered.

  “Well, I bandaged the friction burns on her hands, but from the looks of her, I’d say she climbed the mountain,” the royal doctor said. “Her body needs time to recover. Until then, I’ll be giving her some IV fluids to help with the dehydration.”

  “How long before she awakens?” I asked.

  “It’s hard to say, Prince Ash. It could be within minutes or hours. The body will take as much time as it needs. I’ll check on her every hour until she does.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” I said and sank into the chair I’d moved beside the bed. I pushed the hair from her face and settled in, hoping she’d wake soon, but prepared to stay as long as it took.

  I was just about to doze off when a change in Charlotte’s breathing caught my attention. Her lashes fluttered open, and her topaz eyes darted from me to the room to her bandaged hands.

  “Ash?” she croaked.

  I nodded, smiling so wide it almost hurt. “Yes, Charlotte.”

  “Mmm,” she said, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “My head is killing me.”

  I nodded. “The doctor said you were severely dehydrated. It will take time for your body to mend itself.”

  She nodded, eyes taking in the tapestries and wood carvings on the walls. “Am I really here? Is this another mirage?”

  I smiled again. “No, my sweet. This is real life. You’re really here. You climbed a mountain to get here.”

  “Mmm...” Charlotte’s eyes closed again, and she was sound asleep.

  That happened a few more times during the night and into the next morning. Charlotte would wake up for a few minutes, question reality, and fall right back to sleep. But by the time the sun dipped below the mountain line, Charlotte had managed to wake up and stay awake for the first time.

  After the royal doctor gave her a bill of good health, I sent for some food, and it finally hit me while she showered. This was real. Charlotte was truly here, and I couldn’t wait to find out why. I hoped she was here to tell me she’d reconsidered, but I dared not get my hopes up.

  When she came out of the shower, freshly scrubbed and glowing, I didn’t ask any of the questions begging to be asked. I didn’t press her at all, letting her nibble at the meal until she was sated in relative silence.

  When she was done, I asked if she’d like to see the castle.

  “Yes,” she said. “As long as we go slowly. I’m not quite one hundred percent.”

  I offered her my elbow, and I led her, not toward the most opulent rooms like the library or the ballroom, and not to the impressive gardens that wound through the center courtyard, but to the southern turret. Charlotte lost her breath as we climbed the spiraling stone staircase which led to the highest point in all of Trisea, so I picked her up and carried her in my arms the rest of the way.

  When we reached the observation level, I felt her watchful gaze on me as I set her back down. “What?” I asked, unable to read the mix of expressions in her eyes.

  She sighed, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I can’t believe this is real, that I’m really here, and you’re really there, and that I really climbed a mountain.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlotte

  I’d seen so many extraordinary things, things that I knew couldn’t be real, that I had a hard time believing Ash really stood in front of me.

  He stepped closer, hand stroking my cheek gently. “But you are here, my lady. Now look out there and see what you’ve climbed a mountain for.” He gestured to the bank of floor to ceiling windows that made up the exterior wall of the turret. “Go on,” he said when I hesitated.

  I took a breath, steadying myself in the weight of his gaze and peered out at Trisea.

  My breath caught in my throat, and I reached out for Ash’s arm as my knees buckled beneath me. The sun painted brilliant orange and pink streaks in the sky, casting the entire land as far as I could see in a dream-like, almost heavenly glow. The foothills and farmland stretched out for miles and miles, broken only by the dense alpine forest twisting through the magical land.

  It was so beautiful, so much like an illustration from a fairytale, I found myself moved to tears and, once again, doubting reality.

  “This can’t be real,” I said softly, leaning into Ash’s arm to keep myself from falling.

  “But it is, my lady. Every bit of this is real. You, me, the beauty and magic of Trisea. It’s all real Charlotte. And it’s all yours, if you want it.”

  I pulled away, tearing my eyes away from the gorgeous panorama to Ash’s dark blue gaze. “Tell me everything,” I said. “Tell me what it means to be a Trisean princess, because choosing you is also choosing Trisea, and I can’t make a decision without more information.”

  Ash nodded, tucked me under his arm and told me everything. The politics, the embezzling royal accountants, his plan to convert the country’s economy from needing the ill-gotten funds to support the Crown, to thriving on its own merit. He told me what would be expected of me if we were to go public, how that would change if we were to marry, and what I could expect once the kingdom was his and I was his queen.

  It was a lot. Way too much for a second date, which technically this was. But hell, I’d climbed a mountain for him. The least I could do was let it sink in. Besides, I’d always been the type to fall hard and fast. Why not lean into it?

  “I can’t tell what you’re thinking. Do you think this is something you want, something you could handle?”

  I took a moment, glancing from Ash’s midnight-blue eyes to the fiery sunset draping Trisea in magic. “I’m not saying yes to being the queen or princess or your wife or anything,” I said softly. “But I am saying yes to you, and I’m not saying no to Trisea.”

  A weight visibly lifted from Ash’s shoulders, and he sighed as he took me in his arms. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” he whispered gruffly. He leaned in, slowly, deliberately, and kissed me with such gentleness, such hesitant tenderness, I melted in his arms. For a second time, my knees buckled, and Ash supported my weight as he kissed me like I’d never been kissed before.

  He lifted me, carrying me to a corner of the observatory and laid me on the plush sofa in front of the crackling fireplace I hadn’t noticed before.

  He kissed my lips, my face, my neck, slowly, sweetly, worshiping me as he slipped me out of my clothes. Lying nude before him, he traced a single finger down the length of me, laying a kiss on every bruise and scrape I earned getting here. “I’m so glad you’re here, Charlotte,” he said as he spread my legs and lightly stroked at my center. He leaned in, hovering over me and kissing my face every time a moan escaped me. He stared deep into my eyes as slid a single finger over and around and across my swollen clit.

  Just as the pressure between my legs built, the unmistakable sound of unzipping echoed on the stone walls. Ash circled my clit once more, bringing me to a devastating climax just as he slid himself deep inside me. He pumped slow and deep as my body spasmed around his until the peak was gone and I was cresting toward a new one.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said as he caressed every part of my body with his words, his weighted stare, and his hands. “I love watching you come, Charlotte.”

  He adjusted my legs, and suddenly that slow, steady tension was now about to explode. He still kept the same measured, deep strokes, and it brought me maddeningly close one delicious inch at a time. With one lingering and final stroke, he threw me over the edge, and I screamed so loud, all of Trisea might’ve heard me.

  Chatper Seventeen

  Eighteen Months Later

  I should have known it would take so long to plan a royal wedding.

  Because a royal wedding isn’t just about the bride and groom celebrating their new life. A royal wedding
is about bringing the people of a nation together to celebrate a new beginning, a new chapter in their nation, and a new member of their family.

  The moment we went public, which was six months after my trek up the mountain, marriage rumors were in every issue of each of Trisea’s seven newspapers. Once the story of my “grand gesture” climb up Trisea’s highest mountain went public, I had a new nickname. I wasn’t the “serial relationship killer” anymore. Now the papers called me their “Princess of Romance.”

  Ash won me over that very first night in New York. Trisea won my heart the moment I saw her from the top of the observation turret. But the nation accepted me as their own instantly.