ROYAL ROMANCE: A Royal Renewal (The Royals of Heledia Book 3)

by Victoria Hart

  “Well, all is well here. How are you?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

  “I’m good. Shocked. Like everyone, you know? It’s crazy. The one day I call in sick and this happens,” he said. “I don’t know whether to feel lucky or awful.”

  “Well no one got hurt so there’s no need for survivor’s guilt here.”

  “True.”

  There it was again, the lull in conversation. I didn’t know what to ask next, how to keep things going. Women always complained that men didn’t really know how to hold a conversation, that if you didn’t end every text with a question then they would just stop answering you.

  “Do you have plans for today?” I asked, a little too obviously.

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t expect school to be canceled. I was all ready to go back and then...”

  “Well...if you want...I don’t have anything going on either. The palace isn’t the most interesting place in the world but…”

  I was a nervous wreck, and I probably sounded like a total idiot. But one of us had to ask the question if anything was going to happen, and I realized it would have to be me. That was something my mother told me once long time ago, when she was asking me if I had a crush on any boys. She told me that everyone was nervous and it took an insane amount of courage to make the first move because fear of rejection can be worse than a fear of dying.

  So I’d make that first move. Maybe it was technically the second move since he was the one who’d initially called. But it was all better than nothing. I waited for what felt like forever for him to respond.

  “Yeah,” he said, with a brightened tone. “I’d love to spend the day there. I’ve got nothing else to do and I do love the palace...if it’s okay with everyone there. I imagine you guys are on tight security.”

  “You’ve been here before and you’re a friend. It’ll be fine,” I said.

  I didn’t realize then, the mistakes you could make in giving someone security clearance without truly knowing them. But the fault was also very much with Carlo for not being truthful with me, for not being upfront about who and what he was.

  But we had a date, of sorts, ready and planned. I wanted this day to last forever, this moment of butterflies and happiness to go on for as long as possible.

  Carlo was coming over. He wanted to see me. We were going to spend the day together. That was all that mattered to me. Then.

  “He’s coming here,” I said to Aunt Sonia when I was dressed and rushing down the hall. I did not need to explain; I did not need to tell her who the ‘he’ was. She already knew, because she was smiling at me again like she knew something I didn’t.

  “Lovely,” she said. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

  I felt a flood of relief. I loved my aunt, but I was terrified of the possibility of her scaring people away – friends or would-be lovers. In a lot of ways, it was worse than meeting the parents. This would be meeting a government leader, the queen. It was beyond intimidating on every level. I didn’t want to tell her that, though.

  “Thank you,” I breathed out and she seemed to get the message all the same. She smiled a little wider.

  “I’ll have the kitchen prepare a lunch for you two,” she said. “The gardens?”

  That was exactly what I wanted, but did it seem too romantic? No matter, I squealed internally at the idea of it. I didn’t want to force a romance, especially if he didn’t see things that way, but I also didn’t want to shut down the idea in case he was wondering about my intentions.

  There wasn’t much romantic about finger sandwiches and cheese and meat boards. It wasn’t like there were chocolate covered strawberries and fancy pizza you ate with a fork and knife, and tall flutes of champagne. It was a normal, friendly get-together. Not too friendly, but friendly enough.

  I was going to drive myself completely mad if I kept this up. I was just going to make myself crazy. I imagined Ben, half a world away, making fun of me for all the pacing I was doing, wondering if I should have the kitchens put out a picnic blanket, or if that was a step too far. My aunt, true to her word, had disappeared from view and I was both happy and anxious because of it. I wanted her advice, but I also wanted her to be far away from where she could create an awkward situation for Carlo. He’d met her once, I think, during that party before all hell broke loose.

  This wasn’t like a normal visit, either. We had no doorbell for anyone to press, and there was nowhere he could knock. He would show up, he would be searched, he would be announced and then things could proceed after that like a normal interaction but for right now everything was so formal it was going to hurt. But there were worse things in the world.

  I took a shower and rummaged through my clothes. Shorts and a t-shirt seemed too casual. Would a sundress be too…flirty? Biting my lip, I chose a pale blue one with an empire waist and wide shoulder straps. I would keep my hair simple, so it didn’t look like I’d put in too much effort. And makeup…a little powder in case it was hot, and mascara.

  I stood back and examined my reflection. Should I paint my toes? Was there time?

  I stole to one of the windows and looked out. People were gathered near the door, and I saw Carlo talking to one of the many men in black suits while the guards in purple stood off to the side, decorative, but no less attentive as they watched the interaction. I hoped they weren’t going to detain him if he had a pen in his pocket or something. The security people were touchy. I couldn’t blame them, with all the attacks that had been happening it was better to be safe than sorry. But still, he was known to most of them at this point; they’d seen him with me a school.

  No such luck, the search took a solid ten minutes. Carlo didn’t look perturbed, or at least what I could see of his face didn’t look unhappy. He put out his arms, allowed himself to be subjected to a pat down. His expression was neutral, and occasionally he even smiled at the guards.

  I pulled away from the curtains before anyone came in and saw me.

  I walked out to the gardens, deciding I’d wait there for him to be shown out. It would look casual. And it was a lot better than being caught staring at the window while he was on his way in. It was a little bit embarrassing that I was so enraptured in this situation. I’d never had a real crush before, not like this, and I wondered if everyone was as nervous and neurotic about it as me. I had no one I could ask.

  “Carlo Vaspasian, Your Highness,” called the majordomo, and I turned.

  Carlo was standing there, straightening his jacket. I tried to gauge his intentions from his clothes. He was dressed nicely. He had on khaki shorts with a white belt, and a collared Lacoste shirt, neatly pressed. This wasn’t telling me much because he was always a dapper dresser. Today was no different.

  Suddenly I felt a little self-conscious about my casual dress but, then again, this was my home. He was the guest. My mother always said it was on the guest to impress the host. So far he was doing well.

  “Hi,” I said, walking up, not sure if we should hug or shake hands.

  That was another problem with this arrangement, any arrangement I’d have with my acquaintances in Heledia. There was an inherent imbalance of power. I was too nervous to hug him and even if he wanted to hug me, he wouldn’t do it on his own. He wouldn’t touch me without permission. That didn’t seem fair at all. I saw him as my equal, so that’s how I would act, at least in private.

  “How are you?” I asked, stepping away to lead him to the table. It would be easier in our respective seats, with the table between us. He followed.

  “Exhausted,” he said, and he didn’t elaborate. I assumed it was because he’d been sick.

  “You were sick?” I asked, just making small talk. As thought I’d reminded him to pull himself together, he straightened and rearranged his face into a pleasant expression.

  “Yes,” he said. “It was a 24-hour stomach thing.”

  Again, with the awkward silence.

  “I hope you feel better today,” I said, reaching for a cracke
r to distract us both from the situation and also give him permission to eat. It was customary that the highest ranking royal ate first and then everyone else followed.

  He reached out for some food as well, taking a sip of the iced tea. “I do,” he said. “I’ll be back in class Monday.”

  “Good, because I need someone to help keep me awake in lectures,” I said with a smile, but he didn’t smile back.

  I let my smile drift away and watched him spread preserves on a cracker. Something was distracting him; he wasn’t his usual, easygoing self. I knew, logically, it had nothing to do with me. He was here. He’d answered the invite – he’d even called me first. I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong.

  But I still had the nagging feeling that something was off. I sat quietly for a few beats, waiting for him to realize how distant he was being, and say something. When he didn’t, I decided to nip it in the bud.

  “Is something on your mind?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, immediately looking apologetic. He put his napkin down and looked up to meet my eyes. “Everything’s fine.”

  There was something about looking him in the eye. Ben was never good at eye contact, so our mother used to remind him not to drop his head, to try to look others in the eye. I hadn’t had that problem often, but sometimes if I felt intimidated, I would look at the space just between a person’s eyes.

  But when I looked in Carlo eyes, it was like there were magnets between us and I had trouble looking away. It was captivating, and gave me butterflies. It was the first time in my life I welcomed that nervous feeling in my stomach, because it meant he was looking at me.

  “I promise I’ll cheer up,” he said. “I’ve just had a ton on my mind. I’m preaching to the choir though, I suppose. You must have a lot to think about lately.”

  “That doesn’t mean what you’re feeling isn’t relevant,” I said. “My mother told me it doesn’t matter that someone has it worse; it doesn’t mean you need to feel any less important for the things you’re feeling.”

  He smiled appreciatively.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, and in the blink of an eye, his walls were back up.

  “It’s alright,” he said. “I’ll manage.”

  The conversation shifted to lighter things after that. He was very good at changing the subject, and I soon forgot that anything was ever wrong. His face lit up, his smile returned, and we were lighthearted. We got up and walked around, talking about school. We even made lunch plans for Monday.

  After we’d made the full circuit of the garden paths he didn’t kiss me or anything. I’d hoped he would, but the hug he gave me was almost as good. I watched him decide on it, think about whether he should risk touching me or not. He threw caution to the wind and went for it. Best hug ever.

  It was an incredible day.

  The sun was setting when he left, and I turned around to head back into the palace. My aunt was standing there with a smug expression to rival even my father’s most devious and self-impressed smirks.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” I mumbled, walking past her with my face burning.

  I heard my aunt snigger. “It’s quite adorable.”

  “Not listening to this,” I said. I’d dodged having to deal with my brother teasing me for these things, and I didn’t want to hear Aunt Sonia make fun of me now.

  “He seems like a nice boy,” she said. “I like him.”

  “You haven’t even met him.”

  “Well perhaps next time he comes around I will make myself less scarce.”

  I didn’t know whether to focus on the possibility of him coming to see me again, or my aunt meeting him. That was the one part of all of this that I wasn’t quite sure I could handle: Carlo meeting my family. My family was complicated.

  But one day I would be queen and then we’d have a whole other set of issues. I wasn’t thinking of marriage yet, nothing that serious. But my crush on Carlo brought something I’d been avoiding into perspective: who I could and could not marry. It was true that Aunt Sonia had abolished the law preventing us from marrying outside nobility, but the whole thing was still going to be a minefield for me. I knew it would be best if I married someone who was royal, to try to maintain the standing of our family. With Antonio being a “commoner” we didn’t want to lose the family line completely. We’d be passing the crown around from person to person in no direct line, and the abolitionists would have all the fuel they needed for their arguments that the monarchy could not be maintained.

  It was going to be a difficult choice if I didn’t find myself falling madly in love with a prince – or simply accepting an arranged marriage.

  “Your face is redder than an apple and I think there’s steam coming out of your ears,” said a voice when I was alone again, just outside the solarium, sitting on a stone bench under an ancient olive tree.

  I turned around and Antonio was standing there, hands in his pockets, leaning against the open doorframe. I wished I had his air of coolness. He lived in a palace, he was the husband of the queen, but it didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest. He moved through the palace with a grace and a casual nonchalance that was hard to match.

  He never let any of this faze him. He’d known who my aunt was before he got involved, he knew what it meant and he chased it anyway. He came to terms with what loving her meant and decided that what he felt for her was far more important than rules and social norms. I hoped I could be like him someday – and I hoped that I could find someone like him.

  “I just can’t find an ounce of privacy in this place,” I said. Antonio’s smile faltered. “No, not you. I’d actually welcome some company right now.”

  He sat beside me in the shade. “If this is boy trouble then your aunt is going to be a better help,” he said.

  “It is and she won’t,” I laughed. “She likes to tease me, but the fact is it’s hard to meet people and have it be normal. Like, Carlo knows who I am and even though I believe he’s my friend because he likes me, there’s always going to be this nagging voice telling me that he’s only here because of what I am. And then, down the line, there’s the whole marriage thing that’s going to basically prevent me from marrying anyone I actually love unless I get incredibly lucky and happen to fall for a—”

  “Slow down there, kid,” Antonio said. “You’re way ahead of yourself. You’re not even to your midterms in your first semester at college. You can’t let talking about your future get you so bogged down in your own head.”

  “Why not? Everyone else seems obsessed with my future. They talk about me becoming queen like it’ll happen any second.”

  “Well, that’s an eventuality that can’t be escaped, like the president stepping down after four years or something.”

  “But so is my marriage,” I said. “I can’t not think about it. It’s part of the queen package.”

  “And why are you thinking about this all right now after one date?”

  “It wasn’t even a date.”

  “Even more reason to ask, then.”

  I sighed. He was always so good to talk to – he saw straight to the point. He was very good at getting you to talk by asking exactly what you were waiting for someone to ask you. He went to the places other people didn’t go, and it never seemed like an intrusion. I liked that about him.

  “It’s all just very confusing,” I said, dropping my face into my hands with a groan.

  “Well, that’s life,” he said. “If it wasn’t a challenge, then things would be very boring. But the thing to remember is that you’re in control of you. No matter what your aunt tells you about you belonging to the people or the country, you being some kind of servant for the masses. You’re still a person. I know it may seem like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m not royalty, and I never have been. And living in the palace for the past two decades has done nothing to make me any less of a peasant – just ask your aunt.

  “But I see things here other people don’t and I’m not s
cared to talk about them. I see you, I see your aunt, and I see the state of things. Yes, it’s scary when you don’t know who to trust, whether you’re just starting school or dealing with an entire cabal of people who want to abolish your job. But that’s life. It’s exciting and scary – and I say go at it the best way you can, kid.”

  I smiled at him, and then I hugged him. Uncle Antonio, Consort to the Queen was a fabulous fellow, and I loved him too. But sometimes you needed the advice of a poor violin maker who somehow caught the attention and the heart of a queen. Someone like that had to be doing something right.

  He hugged me back and then ruffled his hand in my hair like he did when I was younger. He liked doing it even more now because it was usually followed with me complaining that he was going to mess up my hair. Right now, I welcomed it.

  “Okay, I’m starving,” I said.

  “Didn’t you just eat?”

  “Yeah, like some cheese and crackers three hours ago. I’m ready for real food.”

  He laughed and we walked inside the palace together, headed to the kitchens to eat whatever food was waiting there for us, imagining how my aunt would scold us for eating too much junk.

  Maybe my life wasn’t so difficult after all.

  Chapter 8

  I decided to go through the weekend without worrying about things with Carlo. I’d see him on Monday, so my weekend was for me. It was for me to enjoy the weather, a break from classes, time with my aunt, and time with Antonio.

  I desperately needed it, really, because I needed to remind myself that things around here could be fun and stress-free if I let them. I had tea with Aunt Sonia in the gardens while we were still dressed in our pajamas, just because it was fun. Antonio and I took a projector and watched Jurassic Park on the wall of the grand foyer. And even though my aunt said the mattress surfing in The Princess Diaries was just a movie stunt, she did have a glint in her eye that seemed to say she wasn’t opposed to the idea if we could figure out some way to pull it off.