by Mia Carson
“As long as the lady in question is not caught by your father sneaking out of your rooms, sir, I see no issue with it.” His tone implied that he did not approve, but he didn’t know it was Olivia.
Mentally, Quincy let out a sigh of relief as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. “I suppose I have to attend the ball tonight. There’s no getting out of it.”
“Not unless you break a leg, I’m afraid, sir.”
“Damn. I don’t feel much like being groped this evening.”
Pascal chuckled. “As much as you won’t like to hear it, Lady Gigi is the one your father is rooting for, last I heard.”
“I don’t know why.”
“Several reasons, from what I gathered. One of which being that her family is the second wealthiest on the isle,” Pascal said as he adjusted Quincy’s tux jacket. “And second, he is trying to prevent them from gaining any more power.”
“What do you mean?” A little wiggle of worry wormed into his mind. “They can’t go any higher than where they are now, and if I marry her, she would be the future queen.”
“Yes, but if you do not marry her, do not take a wife, or do not perform your duties and lose the crown, the Pentacrafts will inherit it. They are next in line after your family.” Pascal’s brow furrowed. “Prince Quincy, you know your father worries for you.”
“He worries I won’t be able to maintain my own crown?”
He’d been mad at his father before, but this was ridiculous. Did he really think Quincy would mess things up to the point where he would let another have his crown or his kingdom? Did Lamont think Quincy lacked that much love and respect for his own people? Marrying Gigi would be a smart political move, if only to keep her close at hand and away from her family’s influence. They would not be so keen to make a move for the crown if she were queen, but any child he had would be related to them.
It was a dangerous game he hadn’t realized his father was playing. Why was he so worried all of a sudden?
“Sir? The ball starts soon, and we must have you ready on time.”
Quincy let Pascal get back to it while his thoughts wandered over the last few months. Before Olivia arrived, he might have spent most his nights out at clubs, dancing away the hours with the ladies and drinking, but he had never caused a scandal. The worst thing he spent money on was his Jeep, and that was only because his bodyguards frowned on him driving himself around. And since finding Olivia, he’d left the nightlife behind.
Sometime soon, he needed to have a discussion with his father and figure out what was going on. He didn’t want to admit it, but maybe he’d been spending too much time with Olivia and not enough listening to what was happening in court.
“There, you are presentable, sir,” Pascal said and stepped back.
“Perfect as always, Pascal.”
“Thank you, sir. I believe Princess Olivia is waiting for you.”
Quincy opened the door, stepped into the corridor and immediately wished they were alone. Olivia wore a blood red gown that trailed behind her when she walked towards him, a bright smile on her face. The gown was fitted with a corset top and beading down the front in a waterfall effect with a full skirt. Cloth wrapped around the sides of her shoulders, and all Quincy could think was thank God it wasn’t strapless. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle her, but any more bare skin, and he’d have to whisk her away.
“What do you think?” she asked as she spun. “I designed this one myself.”
“You look stunning, as always,” he replied quietly. There were too many eyes and ears in the corridor with them. “Shall we?”
They entered the ballroom as they had before, trailing King Lamont and Melinda, entering to the sounds of polite clapping and music playing delicately in the background. Rather than Quincy taking Olivia for a spin on the dance floor, he excused himself from her side and went to speak with his father. He had planned to wait until morning, but there were too many things bothering him.
“Father,” he said and bowed his head. “May we have a moment in private?”
“Quin, the ball just started. Can’t it wait? Go have a few dances, get yourself a drink.”
“It’s rather important. About my future wife.”
Lamont stared at his son and nodded once. “Very well, let us retire to my study for a moment.” He kissed Melinda’s hand, and father and son left the ballroom. They didn’t speak again until they were safely in the king’s study with the door closed and being watched by a guard. “Now, what is this about? Are you telling me you’ve made a decision?”
“No, but I have a question about yours. Gigi Pentacraft. Why are you so worried about her family all of a sudden?”
Lamont’s eyes narrowed. “Who told you such things?”
“Servants talk, Father, you know that. Now, why are you worried about them? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I was hoping to save you from worry,” Lamont offered. “You were supposed to find a wife quickly, marry, and that would be the end of it.”
“And now we’re worried about them,” Quincy postulated with a frown. “I still don’t understand.”
“They have made a claim to the throne, and parliament is considering it for several reasons. Many of which involve you not being fit to rule when I retire.”
Quincy laughed. When he saw the exhaustion in Lamont’s eyes, his laughter trailed off. “You’re serious? I’ve hardly done anything wrong! Why am I not fit to rule?”
“You spend more time at nightclubs than you do anywhere else in this city, Quin, including Parliament where you are supposed to sit at my side. Every time they meet,” his father said, his words growing louder with each one, “you have let me down time and again by not showing me you want to be a prince. That you want to be king!”
“I do want to be king,” Quincy argued. “Of course I do.”
“You have missed your chance to impress anyone, I’m afraid, and the Pentacrafts have seen their opening. They are pushing for Gigi to become the heir when I retire. Based on their wealth and influence at the moment, if you cannot show to me and the people that you can handle being king, you will lose your crown.”
Quincy’s legs went numb, and he sat down quickly before he fell. “Why didn’t you tell me this? Why keep it from me? I’ve been trying, I have.”
“I know,” Lamont sighed as he sat by his son. “They gave you leniency because of your mother’s passing, but now they want to look at you and see a future king, not a party boy.”
“And they think Gigi will be a better ruler?”
“She comes from a long line of loyal and dutiful parliament members. Her family’s wealth is vast and would add to that of the kingdom’s treasury. Not to mention her father’s contacts with several major nations.” Lamont patted Quincy on the back, making his son look at him. “This is why I want you to marry her. If you do, their claim goes away. She will be queen, yes, but you will be king. You will still be able to rule for me instead of being pushed to the side.”
Quincy didn’t want to hear any of it. Gigi was not the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Olivia was, but now he was trapped by his duty to his kingdom and his father.
Lamont stood and straightened his jacket. “I’m afraid Parliament has also put a time limit on you finding a proper wife.”
“How long?”
“One month after I wed Melinda. I’m sorry, Son, but being royalty is never easy. Your mother and I were an arranged marriage, and look how we turned out.”
Quincy nodded. He knew his parents had found love, but Quincy loving Gigi?
“Come,” Lamont said, thankfully interrupting Quincy’s thoughts. “We should return to the ball.”
Together, they walked back to the ballroom, Lamont putting a smile on his face, but Quincy wasn’t there yet. All he saw was Olivia vanishing from his life forever, being replaced by a woman he loathed.
***
Olivia watched the door, waiting for Quincy’s return and hoping every
thing was fine. He’d looked upset, but whatever bothered him, he hadn’t spoken to her about it. Not that they did much talking last night. She remembered how many times her body had shattered at his touch when someone cleared a throat beside her.
“Oh, Edric… How nice to see you again,” Olivia smiled.
Edric bowed his head and reached for her hand. “Princess Olivia, you look magnificent, as always,” he said and kissed her hand gently. “My sister says the two of you had quite a good time a few days ago.”
“Yes, Cheree and I are getting along great. She’s a lot of fun, your sister.”
“She says the same about you.”
Olivia had found a good friend in Cheree over the weeks, and Edric was always a gentleman. He was polite and funny, but she only ever saw him at dinners and balls. There never was a chance to have a conversation with the man, but he was one hell of a dancer. She looked again for Quincy and frowned when she didn’t see him.
“Would you care for a dance?” he asked.
She smiled and held out her hand to his again. “I’d love to.” Mentally, she rolled her eyes. He was nice, but she knew what he hoped to find in her every time they met. He was falling for her, but she had already given her heart to another.
Edric twirled her around the dance floor, and she couldn’t help but have a good time, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way and increase his flirting. On one of the spins outwards, she caught a glimpse of Quincy and the look on his face made her laugh before she quickly covered it up. His eyes glinted with desire at her, but his hands were curled into fists at his side. He was jealous of Edric. As long as he remembered himself and didn’t cause a scene, they’d be fine.
When the dance ended, Olivia paused to catch her breath and saw Quincy take Gigi out to the dance floor.
“Prince Quincy,” Edric said as he approached, “good to see you this evening. Lady Gigi.”
“Edric, always a pleasure,” Quincy said, but his tone was off, and Olivia buried a smile behind her hand as he turned to her. “Olivia.”
She bowed her head to him. The music started, and Edric took Olivia’s hand again while Quincy got ready to dance with Gigi. Edric gracefully guided Olivia across the dance floor, but as she watched, everyone stopped and shifted dance partners. Quincy took Edric’s place and bowed to her, motioning for her to curtsey back to him. He took her hand and wrapped his other around her waist before they set off around again.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
“With Edric? He’s quite the gentleman.”
Quincy’s brow pulled together. “Are you saying I haven’t been?”
“I wasn’t trying to compare either of you like you are, apparently,” she said as her lips twitched. “Does it bother you that he likes me?”
His grip tightened around her waist. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” she said. “It’s all over your face. You can’t get annoyed at me when you’re dancing with Gigi for hours on end at these damn things.”
“Really? You’ve never said anything about it before.”
The other dancers around them stopped and started to switch, but Quincy told the next man to go around him so he could stay in front of Olivia.
“You’re supposed to switch,” she reminded him and curtsied again as they continued the dance.
“We’re not finished with our conversation.”
“We would be if you would just admit that you’re jealous.” He twirled her out and pulled her close when she came back in. “Why are you so aggravated all of a sudden? You were fine before we came down. What happened?” Quincy muttered something under his breath, but she didn’t catch it. She wanted to stop dancing but didn’t want to draw attention to them. “Will you tell me later?”
“Might need some wine for this conversation.”
She nodded, and they danced across the floor until the music changed to a slower song. She expected him to find Gigi, but he kept his grip on her hand and guided her around in a waltz. Olivia tried not to notice everyone’s eyes on them, but no one looked suspicious. Most wore sweet expressions on their faces, as if it was the best thing for the prince to be so kind to dance with his soon-to-be stepsister.
If they only knew what else we were doing together.
“So, do you fancy him?” Quincy asked.
Olivia glanced past his shoulder to find Edric at the edge of the dancers. He looked a bit put out that he wasn’t dancing with her but smiled when he caught her looking. “Like I said, he’s a gentleman, but past that… no, no fancying him happening here.”
“That’s too bad,” he whispered, and Olivia flinched. “Like I said, lots of wine.”
Their dance ended, and he excused himself to mingle with the other guests while Olivia tried hard to keep a smile on her face when her heart sunk in her chest. The room grew hot, and for a moment, the walls appeared to close in around her. In all the time they’d spent together, she’d never seen that look in his eyes. He was angry, but there was something else behind it. Regret maybe? His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he spoke with Gigi and the other women gathered around him, and she longed to go to him. She wanted to hear his laughter and see his eyes light up, but when he caught her eye from across the room, she sucked in a breath at the pain suddenly there.
“Princess Olivia? Are you alright? Do you need some air?” Edric asked as he approached her.
“Yes, air would be good, thank you. I think this dress is tighter than I thought.”
He escorted her to the courtyard, empty except for a few other couples strolling in the moonlight. Olivia’s hands were folded in front of her as she’d been instructed by Allete to do, though all she wanted was to hold her stomach. It ached, and she felt sick but forced herself to breathe and swallow. Bad enough she ran out on one ball. She was not going to be sick in the courtyard.
“Are you sure you feel alright, Princess? You look pale.”
“Maybe I just need to sit down,” she murmured and made it to a stone bench beneath a large palm tree. It helped, and she managed a few deep breaths as she watched the other couples milling about. The flowers around them were brightly colored oranges and reds, framing the paths. “You know, this is the first time I’ve actually sat out here.”
“Really? But you live here,” Edric said with a smile.
“Yes, well I’ve been busy with all these balls and dinners… It takes a lot to be a princess, apparently.”
“I forget, sometimes, that you are not used to this life, Princess.”
“When we’re alone you don’t have to call me that,” she said. “It’s still weird. I’m just plain old Olivia from Nebraska. A girl who misses her blue jeans and flannel shirts.” She laughed as she stared at her dress. “I wake up some mornings and think I’m dreaming.”
Edric laughed with her. “I can’t picture you in flannel and jeans, Olivia.”
He really was a nice guy, and it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes. Why had Quincy said what he did about her not liking Edric? She pushed it from her mind for the time being and focused on the conversation at hand. She wasn’t going to get any answers until the ball ended anyway, so she might as well enjoy herself, even if the man she really wanted to speak with was busy inside the ballroom, surrounded by women vying for a heart he’d already given to her.
Chapter 14
Olivia pushed Allete out of her room as nicely as possible and locked the door behind her. She leaned against it, sagging in her tight dress, and kicked her heels off, sending them flying across the room.
“If those were your shoes, I resent that! They weren’t even that tall, miss!”
“Go to bed, Allete,” Olivia called through the door. She heard the woman yelling about shoes and princesses but stopped listening and shook her head. She needed to get out of the dress and open a bottle of wine.
Quincy had still been talking with Gigi when Olivia had finally called it quits and headed up to her room. Edric and she had spent the last part of
the evening talking in the courtyard, laughing about her life and how he wished he could get off the isle someday and travel. It made her like him a little more, knowing what he longed for, but no one would replace Quincy in her life—unless, of course, whatever the prince was coming to tell her changed that.
She’d just opened a bottle of sweet red, her favorite new alcoholic beverage, and poured two glasses when a knock sounded at her balcony door. Her heart leapt in her chest, knowing Quincy waited on the other side, but she thought of his eyes during the ball and it sank again. What was he going to tell her?
“Sorry I’m late,” he said once she let him inside and quickly closed the doors again. “Gigi would not let me leave. Persistent pain-in-my-ass.”
“I poured some wine,” she said. “You going to tell me what happened tonight?”
He picked up both glasses and handed her one while he gulped the other. “My father and I had a discussion tonight,” he said as he picked up the bottle and refilled his glass. “Apparently, there is more to this marrying situation than I was told.”
Olivia stared into the red liquid swirling in her glass and swallowed the nausea roiling in her gut. She set the wine down and cleared her throat. “What do you mean?” She pressed her hands against her stomach and frowned. What did I eat tonight?
Quincy was too busy chugging his second glass of wine to notice. “Apparently, Parliament, in their infinite wisdom, has decided I am not fit to rule once my father retires, and guess who is next in line for the throne?”
“Gigi? No—you’re serious?” Her gut twisted again.
“Gigi. The damn Pentacrafts are next in line, and this arranged marriage is a test! If I don’t pick a wife and get married one month after my father’s wedding, I will lose my crown!”
His hand curled tightly around the wine bottle, and Olivia saw the glint of rage in his eyes as he raised his arm. “Don’t! Don’t… Someone will hear,” she hissed and rushed over to lower his arm. “Calm down, alright? Just take a deep breath and give me the damn wine before you drown yourself.”