The Prince’s Bride (Part 1)

by J. J. McAvoy

  Beep.

  Beep.

  “Ugh.” I rolled over, pulling my body, which felt like lead, out of bed. Stumbling, I kicked my shoes while holding the side of the table and the side of my head. Blinking a few times, my eyes finally managed to open fully, only to notice where I was.

  Why am I in the guest room? I wondered until I smelled the air. Is something burning?

  Beep.

  Beep.

  My eyes shot to the bedside, but my phone wasn’t there. If it wasn’t my phone...

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Grabbing the bottom of my dress, I ran into the hall only to see a thick haze of smoke coming from a pan on fire on the stove, followed by yelling from my kitchen.

  “What the hell are you doing? Get the fire extinguisher!” I screamed, already halfway down the stairs.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  “Where is that?”

  “Move!” Pushing him out of the way, I grabbed the extinguisher from under the sink, pulled out the pin, and sprayed white foam that exploded all over the place. I tried to turn my head from it, closing my mouth, but still, I could feel it spray into my face. It was only when the fire was out that I took a deep breath.

  “I—”

  I spun on my heels at the sound of his voice. He took a step back and held out his hands.

  “I was just trying to make breakfast—”

  “You failed!” I screamed, making him wince...him! I was the one with the headache, and he was wincing.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Slamming the extinguisher onto the counter, I grabbed a magazine from the stack of mail and handed it to him. He glanced at it and then back at me.

  “I do not read these type of things—”

  “It’s not for you to read. Get up there and fan the smoke detector!”

  “Fan the smoke detector?” He looked at me, confused.

  Seriously?

  “Yes, get on the stool and fan it.” Oh, God, my head. My head hurt so badly. “Go!” I pushed him toward it.

  “I’m going!” He took it from me, walked around to the kitchen stool, then got on top of it to reach up and wave the magazine.

  Sighing, I faced my stove—my foam-covered, burned stove—on top of which sat a frying pan with only God knew what inside of it.

  “Your Highness?”

  I turned to see his guard, the white-haired one, coming back inside, holding a small grocery bag.

  “The tomatoes are useless now, Iskandar. I nearly burned down her kitchen, and now she is punishing me in this way.”

  “Punishing you?” I glanced back up at him. “I’m the one being punished right now.”

  “Exactly how long am I supposed to fan this thing?” he asked, clearly changing the subject.

  “Until it stops beeping.”

  “It has stopped.”

  “Then, I guess you can come down.” I frowned, wishing he had to stay up there all morning fanning it.

  “I apologize,” he said as he was hopping down and dusting off his hands. “Truly. I did not mean to ruin your kitchen. I wanted our start to be much better than last night.”

  “Our start?” I repeated, not sure what he meant.

  He nodded, reaching for paper towels. “The start of our relationship.”

  “Relationship? What—” I stopped as he brought the paper towel closer to my face.

  “You have a little—”

  “I got it,” I said, quickly cleaning off my face.

  It was only as I wiped my face that I saw the brown makeup stain on it...and then felt one of my fake eyelashes, which was definitely coming off. When I glanced up at Gale, he didn’t say anything, which was worse because I could see the humor in his blue-green eyes.

  I didn’t even want to know how crazy I must have looked.

  Turning my back to him, I found his guard arranging papers on the desk, avoiding watching us.

  “Iskandar? Right?” I called out to him.

  “Yes, miss?”

  “Please make sure he doesn’t burn down the rest of my home while I get cleaned up,” I said, already moving to the stairs, trying not to look like I was running even though that was what I wanted to do.

  “It was an accident,” His Royal Highness declared behind me.

  “Of course, miss.” Iskandar nodded at me.

  “Thank you, and you don’t have to call me miss. Odette is fine,” I said, heading back to the stairs.

  “Should I phone in an order for breakfast then?” I heard Gale call up to me.

  “Do whatever you want, Your Royal Highness, just don’t touch anything in the kitchen,” I stated, going into my bedroom.

  I held my composure until the door closed and then ran into my bathroom. I nearly dropped to my knees at seeing my reflection.

  “Oh, God!” I cried out, grabbing onto the edge of my sink. Not only was one of my eyelashes falling but the red lipstick I had worn was also smeared across my lips and the side of my cheek. My hair was a frizzy, tangled hot mess. My dress was nearly falling off me, and I think ripped. It looked like I had just been rescued off some deserted island. Why couldn’t I look like those women in the movies who woke up with their makeup still perfectly in place and their hair only slightly disheveled but still cute? Huh? Why wasn’t that my reality?

  Then again, why was I so annoyed? So what if I looked bad? Who was I showing off for?

  Oh, no one, just the Prince of Ersovia. I thought sarcastically.

  Still, though, it’s not like I’d agreed to marry him—wait, did I agree to marry him? I thought back to the night before, and the memories of my storming into his room came back one by one.

  I hunched over the sink.

  “Why, Odette? Why are you so damn impulsive?” I groaned, reaching behind my back for the zipper...but when I pulled, it didn’t come down. “Oh no, you don’t.” I hissed and yanked harder, but it still wouldn’t budge. I wiggled, hopped up and down, sucked in my breath, but the damn thing wouldn’t move. “Come on!”

  Rrriip.

  I froze, sucking air into my lungs. Slowly, I twisted, looking into the mirror at the tear in the back of the dress. What was worse was it was under the zipper!

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” I really liked this dress. And it was a gift.

  I wanted a do-over! This morning was obviously broken!

  “It was an accident. Do not look at me like that.” I already felt bad enough.

  “I told you I would make it, Your Highness,” Iskandar stated as he walked around me, placing the bag of tomatoes on the stool. Then he stepped farther into the kitchen, glancing around at everything, expressionless.

  “It would not be a romantic gesture if someone else did it for me.”

  “It would have definitely been more romantic than this,” he replied, grabbing a cloth near the sink.

  That is true. I stretched my hand toward him for the towel, and he glanced down at my hand before meeting my eye.

  “You will clean?”

  “Yes, I do know how to clean at least,” I spat angrily. Exhaling, trying to calm down, I finally just took the cloth from him. “I’ll clean. Could you have Wolfgang pick up breakfast for her?”

  “I will call him now,” he said as he moved back, allowing me to step forward to deal with the mess. I was not exactly sure how to go about cleaning it. Rolling up my sleeves, I moved the foam-soaked pan into the sink and poured water onto it, cringing at the stench. Grabbing the sponge, I tried to remove the black tar from the bottom of the pan, but nothing seemed to work.

  What the hell?

  Scrubbing, harder pieces of the burn came off, but it looked nothing like the pan when I had first used it.

  “Your Highness.”

  “Huh?” Lifting my head to him, Iskandar handed the phone to me.

  “Your family.”

  Brilliant. Exactly what I need this morning.


  Drying off my hands, I tossed the cloth onto the edge of the counter before taking the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Gale!” Eliza’s voice caused me to wince.

  I pulled the phone from my ear, and even still, I could hear her clearly.

  “Is Odette there? Can I say hello?”

  “Can I get a hello first?” I asked.

  “Hello, Gale,” she grumbled. “Now, where is Odette?”

  “She’s not here. In fact, I have not even seen her yet,” I lied, wandering over to the windows that overlooked the city. “Seattle is a nice city. I can describe the view if you would like.”

  “What do you mean you have not seen her? Iskandar informed me that you spent the night talking to one another.” Arty’s voice startled me. They were all gathered for this call this morning as if it were some sort of sport.

  “He did, did he?” I turned back to where Iskandar currently cleaned the kitchen despite my explicit request to leave it to me. Apparently, my orders really did not mean a thing to him. “Is he my bodyguard on this little trip or your spy?”

  “Both,” Arty replied, and even though Iskandar could clearly hear me, he said nothing, nor did he even bother turning back. “You also burned her kitchen.”

  “That just happened!” How in the hell did he already report that? I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And it was not the whole kitchen. It was a pan on top of the stove.”

  “Either way, my dear, you need to be careful. Tell her we will refund her the price of the damage. We would not want her to think we are so callous.” My mother’s voice came through this time, and I honestly wanted to fling myself from the window.

  “Yes, Mother,” I muttered.

  “I hope this is not your effort to sabotage this match,” Arty spoke, and now I was annoyed.

  “You know, you are starting to sound more and more like Father with each passing day, Arthur.”

  “I’ll take that compliment. The king is a great man.” He snickered.

  “Are you all trying to drive me mad this morning? If so, you’re succeeding!” Did they not have better things to do with their time?

  “I’m still wondering if my future sister-in-law is there? Can I please say hello?” Eliza’s voice came louder than the rest of them.

  “No,” I snapped back at her.

  “Why?”

  “Because I doubt she will want to start her morning with an overly enthusiastic fangirl.”

  “You’re such as—”

  “Eliza.” My mother’s tone was a clear warning, and I grinned.

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  “Do not thank me yet. We have funds available to you there. Do something to make up for this morning, and also, take her somewhere nice. You do not want her to feel you are so dependent on her. You are a prince. Show her the greatness of that.”

  “Yes, Mother.” What else could I do but say yes and thank you?

  “I am serious, Gale. She is not the same as your other female friends.”

  Female friends? Is that what she called them. I shook my head. “Mother, I need to go.”

  “Wait a moment,” Arthur called.

  Dear God, rescue me from this conversation.

  “Yes, brother.” I heard something on the other line, and waited, not sure what I was hearing. “Hello?”

  “I had them leave,” he stated. “How are you truly?”

  “Has it even been a full day since I left? Yet you are worried about me. I am touched—”

  “Let me clarify,” he interrupted. “What do you think of her? Do you like her?”

  I had no idea how to go about answering that question. Scratching the back of my head, I shrugged. “It is too soon, Arthur—”

  “Do not give me that. You are the first person to have an opinion of a person upon first meeting them. When you first met Lady Schwarz, you said, and I quote, ‘She is the most pretentious, overindulgent, cocker spaniel-looking woman I have ever met.’”

  Why did he have to remember every horrible thing I said?

  “I was young when I said—”

  “You are still young. The only difference between then and now is you only think those things and have the good manners not to say it aloud anymore.” He chuckled. “So, what have you thought about her.”

  I thought she was breathtakingly beautiful. But if I said that, I would never live it down, and should this not work, he would forever hold it over my head.

  “Again, I just met her, but if you must know, she’s bossy, temperamental, and prone to outburst.”

  “Your Highness.”

  I glanced at Iskandar. However, he was not looking at me but behind me. Immediately, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Slowly, I turned...and sure enough, there she stood, dressed in a sweater, jeans, and boots. Her curls were pulled back into a ponytail, and her brown eyes were glaring directly at me.

  I could feel my heart begin to race, my brain shut down, and all I could do was glance back at Iskandar. “Was I speaking in English or Ersovian?”

  “English,” she answered instead. “Still speaking English, by the way.”

  Of bloody course, I was. Damn it!

  “I was—”

  “Bossy, temperamental, and prone to outburst?” With each word, she took a step down the stairs. “That sounds horrible.”

  “I did not mean it like that.”

  “Yes, because there are different ways to mean that,” she said through a fake-looking smile, clearly trying not to tell me now. “Those aren’t royal characteristics, are they? It seems I’m not your girl, then. Good luck finding another heiress. Goodbye.”

  “Wait, Odette!” I tried to rush after her as I moved to the door only to bang my foot against the couch. “Fuck! Ah!”

  “Your Highness.” Iskandar moved to help me, but I stuck out my hand to stop him, sucked up the pain, and stood straighter.

  “There is a first-aid kit in the bathroom,” she said, opening the front door only to have Wolfgang standing there with what was supposed to be breakfast.

  Like an idiot, he grinned wide. “Hello—”

  “Is all of Ersovia stopping by?” she snapped, shaking her head and brushing by him.

  Wolfgang’s eyes widened, and he looked to me. “Did I do something?”

  I didn’t even have the energy to speak. So, I took a seat on the couch. I leaned back, closing my eyes. Was there any way to repeat this morning? How did everything turn into such a colossal mess?

  “Gale? Gale?”

  Frowning, I opened my eyes again and saw I was still holding the phone. Arthur was still on the line?

  “Thank you for making this morning worse, Arthur,” I snapped into the phone.

  “Did you not go after her?”

  “Go after her? She did not look like she wanted me to go after her.”

  I could hear him sigh through the phone. “Over the years, I have heard an onslaught of rumors of how romantic you are. That, of the two of us, you were the most charming when it came to women. Here I thought this would be a breeze for you, but apparently, you have no clue how to sweep a woman off her feet. They have just been falling before you because you are a prince.”

  I pulled the phone from my ear, biting my cheek to keep from cursing to high heaven and back. “I have to go, Arthur!” I snapped, hanging up and tossing the phone as far away from me as possible.

  “What do I do with breakfast, Your Highness?” Iskandar asked coldly.

  “Throw it out the window! Set it on fire! I no longer care!”

  “I think we best avoid any more fire. Ms. Wyntor seems to be at the end of her patience with you—”

  I grabbed the couch pillow and threw it at his head. He dodged it and walked to Wolfgang. I laid my head back, and I closed my eyes. I just got here. Give me a damn break!

  I stayed there pouting for a few moments before finally sitting my ass back up. Last night, she had warned me this would not be easy. It was not my cause, but I was not giving up. Getti
ng my phone, I searched, What are the most romantic things to do in Seattle?

  “Iskandar, what do you think of these?”

  “I am not in a place to give you advice,” he said automatically.

  I looked up to find Iskandar peering over my hands as he put the breakfast, the tomato cobbler with cornmeal-cheddar biscuits—the meal I had utterly failed to make—down in front of me.

  “I am making it your place. What do you think?”

  He frowned before replying, “Would it not be better to do something she would enjoy?”

  “Would she not enjoy romantic things?” I asked back.

  “There is a chance she could have done it already. After all, she has lived here almost all of her life. It would be better to do something she really enjoys and may not mind doing again,” he explained.

  He had a point...again.

  “Since when did you become an expert in romance?” I snickered, lifting my fork.

  “Never, but it seems the expert is off his game if he has to ask for my opinion.”

  I cracked my jaw to the side. “The rumors that go around about me seem to be getting out of hand. First, my brother, and now you. I am not that bad.”

  He shrugged. “We do not get to choose our nicknames.”

  Wait. “What is my nickname?”

  “She is a fan of music, correct? Why not see if she will go to some concert with you?” he asked, clearly avoiding my question as he walked back into the kitchen.

  Fine.

  Whatever.

  I let him get back to work and went back to my search. Finding something to do would not be hard. Getting her to agree seemed like a task that was beyond me.

  However, I had at least one ally.

  Smiling, I began to dial.

  It took a few seconds, but she did answer...and did not let me even get a word out. “Let me guess. My amazing daughter is not making it easy for you, is she?”

  “I may have screwed up a few things this morning. And I really have no idea how to make it up to her.”

  “The key to my daughter’s heart is unbridled honesty. Make her trust you.”

  Could she not just tell me what I could buy for her or something?

  Chapter 11

  “Odette, what are you doing here?” my mother asked, peeking her head around the corner with a spoon hanging from her mouth and a cup of her favorite yogurt in hand.