“A nap sounds nice.” Her words already slurred just a bit.
Gabe kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes.
A nap did sound nice.
But when he opened his eyes again, he noted the less light coming in from around the curtains. Esme still slept on, so he checked his watch and groaned.
“Hey!” He gently shook Esme. “Wake up, love.”
“What?” Her groggy voice made him chuckle.
She looked up at him, sleep written all over her face.
Gabe couldn’t help it.
He kissed her.
Softly.
Their lips clung together for a moment.
When he backed away, a small smile had crossed her face.
“As much as I’d like to stay here like this with you, we’re supposed to meet my parents and grandparents for dinner in about fifteen minutes.”
Esme bolted straight up. “What?” She scrambled out of the chair. “How long does it take to get where we’re going?”
“About eight minutes, give or take.” Gabe lowered the recliner footrest and stood. “Something like that.”
“We need to leave in five minutes. That will make us a few minutes early.” She’d already rushed into the closet. “My things are here so I’m going to change. I’ll have about two minutes to do my hair and makeup.”
By the time she finished her statement, Esme had moved into the dressing room and closed the door behind her.
Gabe shook his head as he stood. He knew it took her longer to get ready than it did him. In a few minutes, he’d changed into one of his custom suits. He knocked on the door to Esme’s dressing room. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
He walked in to see her mostly dressed but looking not very put together. Her slacks were on as was a blouse, but it wasn’t tucked in or even buttoned properly. As he watched, she flipped her hair over and sprayed it with a squirt bottle, running her fingers through it and squishing it in her hands.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“Trying to give my hair a little body after sleeping for three hours.” She stood back up, flipping her hair back over. She pulled part of it back into a clip. “It’s an intentionally tousled look I’m using because I don’t have time to untousle the look to start with.”
Gabe just stared, trying to understand the rationale. “Well, you look nice.”
She glared at him in the mirror. “I do not.”
He smiled back at her. “Fine. Your hair looks nice. The rest of you looks like a beautiful work in progress.”
“What do you need?” The words held annoyance, but he thought it was because she was flustered and not because she was truly annoyed with him.
“Just wanted to see what you’re wearing so I can coordinate my tie.” He backed out the door. “I’ll leave you to finish.”
Back in the closet, he found a tie that complemented her shirt and set it to the side before putting on his cuff links. Once his hair had been straightened with a wet comb, he put the tie on followed by his suit coat.
He knocked lightly on the open door. “I’m ready when you are.”
She glared without the mirror this time as she spread lip gloss on. “I’ll be ready in a few more minutes.”
“No rush.”
“You lie.” She undid the top misbuttoned button and redid them one by one. “Do I need a sweater or long-sleeves of some kind? Is it cool or warm?”
“It might not be a bad idea. I’m usually fairly comfortable with a suit jacket on.”
Esme stood in front of a section of her clothes hanging in his closet. She pulled one sweater out then put it back. The process repeated several times until she finally settled on a filmy long-sleeved kimono kind of thing.
“Okay. Let’s go.” She stepped into a pair of heels high enough to make Gabe glad his shoes didn’t come like that.
He took her hand as they walked out the door to his suite, but Esme hurried more than he did.
“We’re late. Let’s go.”
He stopped but didn’t let go of her hand, forcing her to stop, too. “It’s fine, Esme. We’ll be a few minutes late, but do you really want to run through the halls? Maybe trip on one of those ridiculous heels?”
“I haven’t tripped in heels since I was fifteen.”
“Then you don’t want to start today.” Gabe started walking again, but kept the pace controlled.
Esme walked next to him rather than trying to run. It took several minutes longer than it normally did to get to the family dining room because he refused to move any faster. Esme needed the time to catch her breath after rushing to get ready.
He stopped in front of the door. “Are you ready for this?”
Esme sucked in a breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
10
Like I could ever be ready for this. The thought ran through Esme’s head before she could stop it.
She’d met these people before, even done some business in her capacity as Sargasso’s next monarch, but it was different walking in as the daughter-in-law who was the reason why Gabe would never again live in the room they just left. Why it wasn’t even an option for him to move back to Auverignon for more than a few days at a time. The reason why he would eventually give up his place in the line of succession for the throne of Auverignon.
Never mind that it was the result of a treaty signed decades earlier.
“They already like you,” Gabe whispered.
“If you say so,” she whispered back.
It was her fault they were late. She knew better than to nap without leaving instructions with her assistant or setting an alarm on her phone. She hadn’t planned to take a nap, but that didn’t matter. A princess, especially a Crown Princess, couldn’t be late because of a nap.
He squeezed her hand. “Besides, for all they know we weren’t actually sleeping.”
She glanced up to see him wink at her, but it wasn’t suggestive like she expected. Instead it was conspiratorial.
Esme kind of liked it.
They walked into the room, hand-in-hand.
Her new in-laws.
They were already gathered in small knots of two or three. Esme guessed there were about twenty people total.
“Prince Gabriel and his wife, Crown Princess Esmeralda of Islas del Sargasso, have arrived.” An unseen person announced their presence.
Rather than greeting them, the family moved to their seats. Puzzled, Esme looked around. There were two single seats left.
“You’ll be fine.” Gabe walked her to the chair near his father and grandfather and seated her as the others took their seats.
Gabe walked to the other end of the table then to the other side. He couldn’t be farther away from her unless they’d had him sit at the kiddie table in another room.
Her grandparent-in-laws both sat at the end of the wide table. Gabe’s mother and brother sat at the foot.
At least she knew her manners were impeccable.
It had been a long time since Esme sat through such an uncomfortable meal. She didn’t think it was anyone’s fault, per se, but Gabe’s family didn’t seem to understand the meaning of informal. Even King Benjamin had loosened up more than Gabe’s family. Many of the Western monarchs appeared stiff and formal in public, but few were behind closed doors. Even Queen Elizabeth was said to have a wicked sense of humor.
The dinner dragged on. Though there were seven courses, the king finished quickly. He never finished his portion on his plate but signaled for his plate to be removed before everyone else had a chance to finish theirs.
By the third course, Esme began to wonder if it was some sort of test. Though that was the way it worked, most monarchs made certain everyone else had a chance to finish their portions.
She didn’t let it get to her. Polite conversation surrounded her. Esme held her own, but she’d had years of practice. After ninety minutes, the dessert was taken away before Esme could eat half of it, but that was fine with her. She did
n’t particularly care for the traditional fruit and berry dish anyway. In fact, she didn’t like any of the dishes. None were bad, but they weren’t exactly her taste either.
It struck her as a little odd. Generally, even monarchs tried to make sure their guests would enjoy the meal, though maybe the dishes were Gabe’s favorites.
When she could, Esme watched Gabe. He seemed to be enjoying himself as he talked with his mother and family.
She expected they would adjourn to a sitting room to spend some time together, but instead everyone went their separate ways.
Gabe took her hand as they walked slowly behind the others. In a few minutes, they were alone in the hallway.
“You did well with them.” Gabe stopped and looked down. “Do you want to take your shoes off? They can’t be comfortable.”
Esme let go of his hand and gripped his shoulder for balance as she stepped out of the shoes. Gabe picked them up. They hung from his fingers as they continued walking.
“Was it some kind of test? It all seemed extremely odd.”
Gabe shook his head. “No. That’s just how my grandfather is. He only eats about half of each course, but there’s more courses than he really wants. He gets a full meal but has more variety than there would be otherwise. It also gives guests a chance to eat more of one they like and less of one they don’t.”
“What if you don’t really like any of them?” She clamped her lips together.
“You didn’t like dinner?” Gabe’s voice sounded cautious.
They reached the door to his suite. Gabe opened it for her. She walked in and headed for her dressing room.
“It was fine. I just didn’t particularly care for any of the dishes. I presume they were your favorites so that’s fine.”
Gabe tugged his tie off. “They’re Grandfather’s favorites.” He tossed it on the dresser before shrugging out of his jacket. “He always has his favorites at family dinners. When my father is the most senior member there, we have his favorites.”
“You never get to have your favorites? Unless your father, grandfather, and older brother aren’t there?”
“Not at family dinners. I have my favorites any other time. We don’t have family dinners very often anymore. I get my favorites other times and places.”
It made Esme sad. Her mother was queen, but she didn’t dictate family dinners. Though her mother approved the menus for formal meals, Esme didn’t know who decided for regular meals, unless someone had requested something special.
Two very different ways their families did things. Something minor like menus should be sorted pretty easily, but what if there were larger differences? How would Gabe handle his wife as queen in a family full of kings?
* * *
As they moved down the line, Gabe shook hands and smiled for pictures, even a selfie or two with some of the kids and grandmas, but never with women. It was a line he’d drawn years earlier, once he decided it was time to grow up and commit to the relationship that he would eventually have with Esme.
They were happy to see him, but everyone was even more excited to see Esme. He supposed it was to be expected. She was new and novel and a future queen.
She was gorgeous and friendly, and he understood why she attracted the attention. Before long they reached the museum. A new section opened, dedicated to letting children explore archaeology.
Once inside, Esme gave a short speech about how excited she was to join her new husband in supporting sciences for children. They cut the ribbon together then joined a group of kindergarteners as they explored the large ancient village and started to uncover some of the artifacts left behind. Everything was staged, of course, but the kids seemed to love it.
And Esme.
When he could, Gabe watched Esme with the kids. She loved them, and they loved her.
“She’s quite the woman.” The curator of the museum stood next to Gabe. “They love her.”
“They do.”
“We’ll miss having you around, but we’re all very happy for you both.”
“Sargasso does have its pluses, besides a beautiful Crown Princess.”
“Like daytime year-round?”
Gabe laughed with the man. “And nighttime. Twelve-ish hours of daylight and dark year-round. More or less. Kind of.”
“And it’s not like we’re far enough north to have eternal dark here.”
“Not quite.” Though it came close for a few weeks in the winter.
“The beaches and water sports opportunities are much better there.”
“Definitely, though the skiing is far better here.” Gabe glanced around to make sure there wasn’t anyone close enough to overhear. “Is there a program like this one in Sargasso?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“If I can find the right spot, would you be willing to help me get it started?”
“Of course. Let me know what you need, and I’ll be happy to do whatever I can.”
“Thank you.”
Russell motioned to him.
“I believe that’s my cue to get my wife and leave. We have a luncheon with the Women’s Gardening Society of Auverignon, I believe it is.”
“I’m certain your wife will be as welcomed there as she is here.”
Gabe shook hands with the curator and walked toward Esme. They’d have a few minutes to change clothes in an out-of-the-way office or conference room set aside for that then be ushered into a waiting vehicle where they wouldn’t be seen. No one would question why they weren’t wearing the same clothes when they appeared at their next stop. It’s just the way things were done.
Gabe and Esme said goodbye to the children. He held her hand as they followed his assistant out of the new section of the museum. A few minutes later, they were in separate offices to change.
“How do you think everything is going so far, sir?” Russell handed him a different dress shirt.
“They love her.”
“They love you, too.”
Gabe shook his head. “Not like they do Esme.” The luncheon would be a trial. The Society was comprised mostly of older women who had very clear ideas about propriety. He’d offended most of them with his lifestyle choices the better part of the last decade. It wouldn’t matter to them that he’d cleaned up his act many years earlier. That he’d led it in the first place was enough - at least until he had a few years of a loving marriage under his belt, then maybe.
He met Esme in a hallway near an interior loading dock where their car waited. She’d changed from skinny jeans and a blouse with boots to a dress with a jacket over it. Not quite a business suit, but nicer and not appropriate for digging around in fake dirt with children like the jeans had been.
“That was fun,” Esme told him as she buckled her seatbelt. “I wish there was something like that in Sargasso.”
“Maybe we can make that a project we work on together.” The car started to move. “I mentioned to the curator that I might contact him if there wasn’t already something like this in Sargasso. He’d be happy to help in any way he can.”
“The Sargassian Museum of Natural History has a small area where children can dig up bones, but nothing nearly this elaborate.” She chewed on her bottom lip, something he’d never seen her do before. “I wonder if Charlie’s parents could help.”
“Charlie?”
“Queen Adeline of Montevaro’s husband. I forget which is which, but one is an archaeologist and the other an anthropologist, I believe.”
That jogged his memory. “Which is why his given name is Charlemagne.”
“Exactly.” She brushed her hands along the tops of her legs, smoothing her skirt. “I’ll talk to my mother next week.”
The mention of Queen Carlotta sobered Gabe. The conversation with her a month or so earlier replayed in his mind. It had convinced him to marry Esme without delay, but the rest of what she’d hinted at weighed on him.
Before he could even consider whether or not to tell Esme about it, the car glided to a stop near the
gardens. Essentially a large green house on the outskirts of Auverignon’s capital city, it housed a wide variety of plant life, including an area devoted to butterflies.
Maybe he should make arrangements to bring Esme here at night sometime. It would be far nicer with just the two of them. Romantic even. He needed to romance his wife.
But before then, he needed to fade into the background a bit, something he had plenty of experience doing, despite tabloid headlines to the contrary. Esme was the center of attention, and she should be.
The weight of the conversation with his mother-in-law and the reality of always being a spare made it hard to put his happy face on, but for the sake of the cameras and his wife’s public image, he managed.
It had become second nature to fake being happy-go-lucky.
That wouldn’t stop now.
11
Something happened to Gabe in the car on the way to the luncheon. Esme couldn’t put her finger on what, but as they’d neared their destination, a switch flipped.
She’d never seen Gabe solemn before. Not really. He’d put on an appropriately neutral facade many times, but almost always, there remained a hint of a twinkle in his eyes.
Not now.
They smiled and waved to the crowd on the other side of the road, but none were close enough for the kind of rope line they’d walked through at the museum. Several women greeted them outside the door.
Gabe knew them well enough to make the introductions, or perhaps he’d been briefed the night before.
“My brother wishes he could be here,” he told the matron of the society. “However, I’m told his allergies are already more than he can bear. I’m afraid a trip here would do him in.”
“It’s a shame.” Mrs. Garfield sighed. “However, it is lovely to have your wife here.”
There was an undertone Esme couldn’t quite put her finger on. She talked with the matron about the different areas of the conservatory as they walked through it, with Gabe trailing behind.
The Spare and the Heir Page 8