His Sword

by Holly Hart

  “How do I look?” she asks.

  “Like someone else,” I say.

  “That’s what we wanted, though, isn’t it?”

  We did when the team discussed this, but now that I’ve seen her, I don’t know anymore.

  “Amanda, I need you to know something before I step in front of that microphone.”

  “What?”

  I take her by the arms and look deep into her eyes.

  “No matter what happens today, your future is up to you. Your contract is over – it was a stupid idea to begin with, I see that now. The payments will continue to your father, but you don’t owe me anything.”

  “Dante – ”

  “Please, hear me out. I don’t have much time. Amanda, I never expected you. You came into my life like a desert rain – I didn’t even know I needed you until you were there. But I didn’t have the brains to realize how important you were, or the courage to tell you.

  “It’s been said that if you love something, you must set it free. I’m setting you free, Amanda. Your life is your own. I pray that it will be with me, but that’s not my decision to make. It’s yours.”

  Before she can say anything, I pull her to me and kiss her. Not the chaste kiss for the cameras this time; this is the real thing, deep and long and passionate. Everything I am, summed up in a single expression of love.

  I can’t read her the way I’ve been able to in the past. All I see is her heart-stopping eyes, wide open and blinking at me, as our lips part.

  “I have to go,” I say, turning to head to the stage. “Wish me luck.”

  As I stride away, every step echoing against the marble floors, I think I hear her whisper “good luck,” but I can’t be sure.

  “People of Morova,” Lorenzo Ricci intones gravely to the camera. “Welcome to the future of your country.”

  Of course Ricci is the moderator. Why not just blatantly stuff the ballot boxes and be done with it?

  Shake it off. Focus.

  “Today, we will decide the fate of the monarchy that has been part and parcel of Morova since its inception. The choice you face today is simple, yet profound: keep Prince Dante Trentini as your monarch, or choose a new future, and appoint his older cousin Emilio as the custodian of the Trentini fortune.”

  It’s all I can do to keep from rolling my eyes.

  “Before you make this most crucial of choices, 4Roma presents this debate between Prince Dante and Crown Council Chancellor Julian Huber. We are being broadcast live via television across Western Europe, and streaming live around the world via the Internet.”

  As he drones on, I gather my thoughts. We went over the strategy last night: keep on point, hold my temper, appeal to the traditional morals of the Morovan people. Above all else, remain dignified and serious.

  “Our opening remarks will begin with His Highness, Prince Dante Trentini.”

  Ricci waves a hand at me and I see a red light flash on top of the camera facing me.

  “My fellow Morovans,” I begin from my podium. My speech is measured and formal. It’s imperative that the audience sees me as someone who wants the job and understands the grave responsibility.

  Yadda, yadda, yadda. It’s all the words they want to hear, not the ones I want to say.

  The red light goes out as I wrap up, and Ricci points to Huber.

  “Chancellor Huber will now bring his remarks on behalf of the National and Crown Councils.”

  He clears his throat, sparking feedback from his lapel microphone, and sets his piggy little eyes on the camera. His speech is simply an expanded version of what he said on Ricci’s show, and what he’s been saying to every camera for over a month now: reputation, tradition, respect. How I’m an embarrassment to the monarchy.

  He gets to the part about Emilio and his eyes light up. My cousin is made of the right stuff, a man of honor and breeding, who graduated from Oxford with honors and didn’t coast through on his name.

  And a man who disappears on his cousin as soon as his mother starts scheming. I haven’t talked to Emilio since before the photos leaked. For that matter, even Huber and I have never spoken face-to face.

  I think of Ike’s “face-to-fist” and have to bite back a laugh.

  Huber finishes his remarks and Ricci tells the audience the format of the debate: Ricci himself will ask the questions, Huber and I will have a minute each to answer. As if a minute can sum up the fate of a nation.

  Ricci takes his place at the table as the cameras move into position on myself and Huber. A minute later, the red lights come on.

  I take a deep breath. It’s show time.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  54. AMANDA

  “We’re getting slaughtered.”

  Maria’s voice is stoic, but her eyes are another story. For the first time ever, I can see the shimmer of tears in them.

  Beside me, Carlo’s shoulders stoop in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s like someone has cut the strings off a marionette and it’s trying to stand on its own. On my other side, Dad’s eyes are boiling. He’s keeping his mouth shut, but I can feel the anger emanating from him in waves. His big fists clench and unclench, over and over.

  Every question from Ricci is carefully designed to make Dante look like a fool, or a womanizer, or an asshole. It’s like the old joke about journalists asking the politician if he’s stopped beating his wife: if he says no, he’s still beating his wife. If he says yes, he’s admitting he beat his wife.

  And, like the joke, this debate isn’t funny. It’s frustrating and infuriating. Worst of all, it’s heartbreaking.

  I can practically see Dante’s fear of losing the children on his face as each question hits him like a boxer’s blow. I feel each one with him.

  “I don’t know if there’s any coming back from this,” Maria says quietly.

  “There is if I can get those two bastards alone in the alley,” Dad growls.

  “Gentlemen,” Ricci says, holding up a hand. “We’ve come to the end of the question portion of this morning’s debate. I and the Morovan people thank you for your answers.”

  Dante’s still keeping his cool, but I can see the emotion in his eyes. I can’t imagine what’s going through his head right now. Dad’s line about taking Ricci and Huber into the alley is right on the money – this wasn’t a fair fight.

  “We will now wrap up the proceedings with a final statement from each of our participants,” Ricci says with a smug grin. “Chancellor Huber, you have the floor.”

  Huber turns to face the camera directly. He looks like a school principal about to lecture a group of rowdy students.

  “People of Morova,” he says. “The choice you must make today is clear. You all saw the photographs. You’ve read the scandals. You know the solution.”

  He leaves his podium and walks towards the camera.

  “The question before you is, I believe, simple: do you believe that the royal marriage is real? Or is it a lie created to block this council’s duty to remove a monarch for not fulfilling his duties?

  “I believe it’s the height of arrogance for the prince to believe that we, the people, are foolish enough to believe that he could have fallen in love in the space of a few weeks. With an American commoner, no less.”

  I feel Dad tense up beside me.

  “We’ve already seen that money has changed hands. Are we expected to believe that Dante, a noble with centuries of royal breeding, and access to one of the world’s most vast fortunes, would marry such a woman?”

  I put a pre-emptive hand on Dad’s arm to keep him from moving. Huber will never know it, but I just saved his life. I see similar flashes of anger on Maria and Carlo’s faces as well.

  Then I hear Dante’s voice come across the sound system.

  “Such a woman,” he says quietly.

  Ricci frowns. “Your highness will refrain from speaking during the chancellor’s closing remarks.”

  “Shut up, Lorenzo,” Dante says mildly. “You’re not talking to your wife
. Or your mistress in Sorrento.”

  Ricci’s face turns ghostly white as Dante ambles over to stand beside Huber. He obviously struck a nerve with everyone’s favorite host.

  My heart is racing. What’s Dante doing? Whatever it is, Huber is sputtering like crazy.

  “Such a woman,” Dante says again. “It’s funny that you say that, Julian, since you’ve never actually spoken to her face-to-face. You’ve made all sorts of accusations and innuendoes against her, but you don’t actually know her.”

  All eyes are on Dante now. You could hear a pin drop.

  “All the debate we just went through was smoke and mirrors. Sure, I could go on and on about how you’re trying to get your hands on the Trentini fortune, and that Emilio is just a puppet for your government. But that’s not what this is about. Not really.

  “This is about Amanda Sparks. It’s about a prince who had the audacity to fall in love with an American cowgirl whose father spent his wife’s life insurance to send his daughter to community college instead of Oxford. A woman who grew up taking care of cattle with her own two hands and riding horses in barrel races, instead of hosting garden parties and betting on thoroughbreds at Royal Ascot.”

  Dante finds me in the audience and locks his gaze on mine.

  “A woman who had the nerve to invite common people to her wedding reception so they could share in our joy. Who welcomed my beloved Oriana and Vito into her heart with a generosity I’ve never seen in all my years in the royal court. Who showed me what it means to be honest and loyal and real.”

  Tears spill onto my cheeks as all the doubt that’s been eating at me for so long finally fades. I don’t even care that we’re surrounded by strangers.

  “So fire everything you’ve got at me, Julian,” he says, turning to face the chancellor with a look that could freeze lava. “I’m the one on trial here. But when you feel like talking about the woman I love, I advise you to shut your fat, arrogant mouth before I drive my fist into it.”

  The foyer seems to hold its breath for a stunned moment. Then my father’s voice rings out.

  “You tell that fucker, kid!” he bellows.

  The outburst is met with shocked looks from the council members gathered to watch the debate. A few look like they might be on the edge of a coronary.

  But all I can think about is how proud I am. How much I love Dante. I don’t care what happens from here on – this moment is everything I could have wanted.

  Huber finally seems to come out of his coma and takes to his own microphone.

  “That behavior right there!” he shouts, waving a chubby finger at Dad. “Threatening violence! Profanity from the prince’s own father-in-law! Do we really want the worst of America in the highest office of our land?”

  That’s it. I’ve had just about enough. I save Huber’s life one more time by grabbing Dad’s arm before he can move.

  “This one’s mine,” I say, stalking towards the stage.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  55. DANTE

  Amanda plucks Ricci’s handheld microphone before he even realizes she’s on stage.

  “Hello, Chancellor,” she says to Huber. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but my father – that beautiful man you just pointed at – taught me to never tell a lie. He also taught me it’s rude to point at people.”

  I can’t help but grin. Letting both barrels go on Huber has me feeling better than I have in weeks. Whatever the outcome today, I know I’ve said my piece and my conscience is clear.

  Judging by her behavior, I think Amanda feels the same way.

  “Dad taught me a lot of things,” she says. “About being humble, and not talking behind people’s backs, and being honest and straightforward. But I’m not here to talk about him.”

  She turns towards me and smiles. It feels like cool water on a hot day.

  “I want to talk about this man right here. The one you’ve been throwing insults at for the past forty minutes. And for three weeks before that, thanks to Mr. Ricci here.”

  Lorenzo’s white face has started to turn green.

  “You were right about a few things, Chancellor,” she says. “Those photos did come from Dante’s bachelor party. But they were taken by someone who had drugged his drink, specifically to give your office fodder for this referendum.”

  “That’s a scandalous accusation!” he sputters, prompting more feedback from his lapel mike.

  “But even that doesn’t matter,” she says, ignoring him. “If I remember right, you asked the Morovan people if they were foolish enough to believe that two people could fall in love in just a few weeks.”

  Now it’s Huber’s turn to go white. The way his mouth is working, you’d think he was a fish on dry land. A big, ugly bass, to be specific.

  “Apparently, I have a lot more faith in love than you do, sir, because I do believe that people can fall in love in a few weeks. Even quicker, really.”

  She slides an arm around mine. “I’ll admit it wasn’t love at first sight for Dante and me. Lust, sure – I mean, look at him. But attraction alone isn’t love.

  “That came later, after I saw him with his niece and nephew. How gentle he was, and understanding and protective.”

  She turns to Huber. “If you really knew the prince the way you claim to, Chancellor, you’d know that Oriana and Vito are his heart and soul. Ask any member of the palace staff, they’ll tell you the same. I’m surprised Duchess Isabella didn’t mention it during any of your long meetings with her.”

  I have to bite down on my lips to keep from horse-laughing as Isabella’s face twists into a mask of pure outrage. The council members all avoid eye contact with her as the cameras turn in her direction.

  “I’ve met a lot of people with money and status over the last little while,” Amanda says. “Some of them, like Giselle Ranette – I’m sure you remember her, Chancellor – weren’t what I would call nice people.

  “But this guy,” she says, squeezing my arm. “What you see is what you get. He treats everyone the same, from other royals to the people who empty the trash at the palace.

  “I should point out that you were right about one thing, Chancellor – Dante did give my father money. Do you know why? Because my father needed it, and because Dante is the most generous man I’ve ever known.”

  Now she’s looking directly into the camera’s red light.

  “I guess if you believe those qualities are character flaws, you should vote to get rid of him,” she says. “I personally fell head-over-heels in love with those character flaws, but hey, that’s just me.”

  With that, she puts down the microphone and wraps her arms around my neck.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she grins. “Somebody had to say it. Now get over here. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

  My pulse quickens as her lips touch mine. She’s right – it’s been far too long since we touched.

  If there was any justice in the world, there would be some kind of sweeping movie theme playing in the background. As it is, there’s only silence, and the shocked gasps of the council members.

  After several long, delicious moments, I hear Ike clear his throat loudly.

  “Father in the room,” he says.

  Next to him, Maria and Carlo start to chuckle. The chuckles turn into full-blown belly laughs as Ike joins in.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  56. AMANDA

  Lorenzo Ricci finally gets enough composure back to retrieve his microphone and find a camera.

  “Obviously, this has not followed proper procedure,” he says. “But such is the nature of live television.”

  He glares at Dante and me.

  “And given that the prince and princess have broken the rules of the debate, I shall offer Chancellor Huber another opportunity for rebuttal.”

  Huber clears his throat.

  “I’ll need a few minutes to organize my thoughts,” he says.

  Ricci touches his earpiece and nods.

  “Our producers
are going to a live analysis of the debate with our panel of experts,” he says. “We will return with the chancellor in just a few minutes.”

  The red lights on the cameras all go out at once. The camera operators sling off their headphones and group together on the stage, no doubt talking about what’s happening in the next segment.

  Ricci drops his microphone on the table and storms off, muttering something in Italian. Huber heads behind the large black curtain that’s been serving as the backdrop to the stage.

  I feel Dante’s arm wrap around my waist and I lean into him.

  “My father always says, if I can’t fix it, I’ll bugger it up so that nobody else can,” I say. “Looks like we took that to a whole new level.”

  He smiles. “It’s over now. Whatever the outcome, at least we know we were honest with ourselves. And each other.”

  “What about the children?” I ask.

  “I think your shot at Isabella over colluding with Huber will hurt her in the eyes of the people. We can only hope she’s smart enough to realize she should leave well enough alone.”

  I scan the foyer and catch Maria, Carlo and Dad looking at an iPad and talking with their hands.

  “Something interesting’s going on over there,” I say, nodding in their direction. “I wonder what they’re watching.”

  Suddenly from behind the curtain we hear Isabella’s voice, sharp and hissing: “Emilio, that’s enough! You’re drunk!”

  We glance at each other and duck through the slit in the curtain to the back of the stage. There in front of us is Emilio, unshaven with his hair standing up. I’m pretty sure he slept in his clothes.

  “Emilio!” Dante calls as we hurry towards him. “Good lord, man, are you all right?”

  “Leave him be!” Isabella snaps. “This is none of your concern.”

  “He’s my friend and my cousin,” Dante says, brushing past her to put an arm around Emilio.

  “’I’m so sorry, Dante,” Emilio slurs. “S’all my fault.”

  “What’s your fault?” I ask. “Emilio, where have you been? We’ve been worried about you!”