The Prince’s Bride (Part 1)

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The Prince’s Bride (Part 1) Page 21

by J. J. McAvoy


  “We’re you jealous?”

  I shook my head. “Funnily enough, no. The first time I saw Augusta, I was so happy. I saw her as a doll. But then dinner came around, and when we were all sitting together, I thought of my mom and felt sad for her being by herself at home. I begged to go home early.”

  “You were very sensitive. I, on the other hand, was very selfish. I never noticed anyone else was in pain or needed anything until much later in life.”

  “I’m sure you cared.”

  “Umm...no.”

  I laughed. “You couldn’t have been heartless!”

  “When I would break something or get in trouble, I would always look at how I could blame Arthur. And he just enabled me by taking the blame.”

  “Why do you all do that? You younger siblings are the worst. I feel for your brother now.”

  He laughed.

  We spoke until after the sun came up. And before I knew it, my eyes felt heavy, and my mind was full of nothing but his voice.

  “Go to sleep,” he whispered.

  “I’m not sleepy.” I yawned.

  “Yes, it definitely sounds that way.”

  “Fine. Thank you for talking to me.”

  “I did not do it for free.”

  “What did you do it for then?”

  “Lunch or dinner, either one, it does not matter. Just spend whatever is left of the day with me on a date.”

  Cheesy.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  “Goodbye!”

  “Goodbye,” he said back.

  “I’m waiting for you to hang up,” I said to him. Why was I having such a hard time hanging up?

  “It is rude to hang up on a woman.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, dear God.” He gasped suddenly.

  “What?” My eyes popped opened.

  “My sister forced me to watch a movie like this once. The two of them argued over hanging up for at least three minutes. I became so annoyed, and I said, who acts that way in real life? And my sister said people who like each other.”

  I was very much awake now. “Is that your way of saying you like me again?”

  “No, I am saying we like each other.”

  I could see the smirk on his lips in my mind. “Do not confess my feelings for me. I will do that myself.”

  “Then I will confess mine. I like you, Odette Rochelle Wyntor.”

  I didn’t reply.

  He sighed. “I guess I overplayed my hand—”

  “I like you, too, Gale with too many middle names for me to say right now.”

  He roared with laughter. “Now, was that so hard?”

  “Bye!” I snapped, hanging up on him. I rolled over, grabbing the sheets, and put the pillow over my head.

  Was I turning into a sixteen-year-old girl with crush all over again?

  Yes. I think I was.

  “I can’t believe you are still wearing that.” I pointed to the wig on his head when he came to pick me up that afternoon.

  “What, are you jealous?” he questioned, flicking the hair over his shoulder.

  “Yes. That’s it exactly.” I laughed, closing the door behind me as I came down the stairs, but I didn’t notice the black ice and slipped. I tensed, stretching out my hands to catch myself. However, two large arms wrapped around me and held me still.

  “Are you all right?” His deep voice was directly at my ear and made me shiver much more than the cold.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “It is not funny when you are the one slipping, now is it?” he replied, letting me go slowly, and I remembered snickering at him last night.

  “You can hold a grudge.”

  He nodded. “Yes, and for years. So, do not break my heart, Ms. Wyntor, or I will never forgive you.”

  First, my mom, and now him. Since when was I a heartbreaker? He was the one standing in front of me as if he had walked off the pages of a GQ cover shoot. From his coffee-colored, wool coat to his white sweater and suede shoes. It made me wonder if he put attention on how he dressed or if this was casual for him. Meanwhile, I was just wearing a long sweaterdress and coat.

  “The real reason I am stuck with this wig is Iskandar would refuse to let us out if I did not wear it,” he said as Iskandar held open the door for us.

  “You were recognized, sir. We must be careful,” Iskandar said to him. “Good afternoon, miss.”

  “Didn’t I tell you that you can call me Odette?”

  “Yes, miss,” he said again.

  “He’s a stickler for the rules,” Gale said as I got into the car.

  I waited for him to get into the car before asking, “What rule says he can’t call me by my name?”

  “He has apparently concluded that you will be my wife, so calling you Odette would be the same as calling me Gale. It is too personal,” he explained.

  “Yeah, us guards and palace workers can only call you miss, ma’am, or Your Highness,” Wolfgang interjected from behind the steering wheel, which made both Gale and Iskandar look at him.

  However, funnily enough, Iskandar looked more annoyed than Gale did. Iskandar began to speak but only to Wolfgang. His tone, the glare, and how Wolfgang sat up straighter told me he was definitely in trouble.

  “Sometimes, I feel bad for the kid.” Gale snickered, whispering to me, “Wolfgang knows the rules, but he gets so excited that he forgets himself. Each time he does, Iskandar the Rock tells him the page of the rule book he is breaking.”

  I sat up to see, but he didn’t have a book on hand, and I then realized. “He memorized all the rules, by pages?”

  Gale nodded. “He graduated first in his military class. He is the fifth generation of his family to do so. To people like him, the royal protocol and family are a religion. As playful as I am, I never tell him to forgo protocol. It would be like telling the Pope to stop quoting scripture.”

  Was the whole nation loyal like that?

  Would I be able to live in that type of world?

  I wanted to experience a normal date, and there was nothing more normal than going to the movies. I had it all thought out. She would pick some sad, romantic woman’s film. We would hold hands, and I would try to distract her a bit. However, the moment she chose some Stephen King horror film, I instantly regretted my decision to come.

  “Enjoy your movie,” the lady said from behind the counter.

  “Thank you!” Odette said happily, turning back to me.

  I smiled, trying not to give away the fact that I hated horror movies with a passion. “Do you want popcorn?” I asked her.

  “They sell kettle corn.” Her eyebrows wiggled with excitement, which helped defuse the tensions in my shoulders.

  Instead of worrying about the movie, I focused on the fact that American food sizes made no sense to me. Odette clearly said a medium, and yet they gave her a bucket the size of her head.

  “This is a medium?” I questioned.

  “Yeah? Do you want a large?” she asked in return, clearly not understanding what I meant.

  “If this is a medium, what does a large look like? Do they give you the machine?”

  She glanced down at the bucket and then chuckled. “Sometimes, I forget you’re from Europe. Everything is so small there.”

  “No, everything is proportional there.”

  “Dude, are you getting the popcorn or not?” Some teenager asked, bored with me, reminding me of the customs agent when I first came here.

  “We will just share. Can I get a Sprite also? Do you want one?”

  “Yes, thank you...” my voice trailed off as I saw the massive cup they put the drink in. All I could do was look at her.

  “Stop judging us. See, this is why Americans feel like you are all stuck up.” She giggled.

  “Because we are concerned about your overall health?” I shot back.

  “We were pretty healthy when we beat your ass during the revolution,” the teenager muttered as he rang us up.

  Odette
held back a snort, sticking a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth.

  “For the record, I am not British,” I said, handing him a hundred. “But if I were, I would tell you that it has been over two hundred years, so find a new insult.”

  “Why? And we can’t break a hundred right now,” he said, giving me back the money.

  “That’s what you get for trying to argue with a teenager,” Odette teased, giving him her card. “I guess this is on me.”

  “Sorry, your card is declined.”

  The way her head whipped back in horror made it all worth it. “What do you mean, declined?” she questioned.

  “I mean, it says to call the bank,” he said back to her.

  “Here try this,” Iskandar said behind us, reminding us both he and Wolfgang were still here.

  “You were saying?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

  Her lips pursed as she glared at me. “Our movie is in theater eight.”

  Right...the movie.

  You can do this, Gale. It is only a movie. It is not real.

  “Is it over?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered.

  I peeked back up at the screen only to see the melting, white face of some demon woman, causing me to scream and her to snicker. “You are not funny,” I whispered back at her.

  “I can’t believe you’re this scared of horror movies.” She giggled, eating her popcorn as if we were at the park.

  “Horror movies are meant to scare you. Therefore, I am having a natural reaction.”

  “A.k.a. scared,” she whispered, her eyes glued to the horror show on the screen and not reacting at all.

  “Shhh!” said someone from behind us for the third time so far.

  Sighing, I sank back into the chair, praying for all of this to end.

  “Don’t worry. I will protect you,” she said, taking my hand.

  Oh, she was having a ball teasing me today. The smirk on her face was clear evidence of that. The more I looked at her, the more I found myself wondering what had she done to me in such a short time? I was a prince. Back home, women always saw me as a confident, charismatic, pleasure seeker. I despised the term womanizer, but there was no better one to describe my actions. I did not bend to women. Sure, I had gone on dates, but I never showed my fears to anyone. I never told them anything. I never held them outside of the bed. My relationships were simple. I wanted them, so they were mine until I no longer wanted them.

  Yet here I was, holding her hand, showing my cowardly fears and being so unlike myself. Now I did not know which self was real. Was I still Prince Gale, the spoiled royal playboy? Or was I this domesticated man like Arty? Is that what wives did? Dear God, I cannot be like Arty. If that were the case, I was bound to end up holding her bags and caring for her pets like jewels.

  “You made it.” She turned back to me, the smile on her face so wide her cheeks balled, and her eyes looked to sparkle...and I felt myself take in a deep breath. She tried to take her hand out of mine, but I just held onto it.

  “Gale—”

  I took her lips suddenly, swiftly and briefly before getting up. “Thank you for your protection.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Nodding, I got up with her, and before we were even out of the row, Iskandar stood at the end, but Wolfgang was not with him. He did not say anything until we were out of the theater completely, and the moment we were in the cold, he handed me a phone.

  “Wolfgang is bringing around the car. The press has gotten word about the king. Your brother is on the line,” he said to me

  “Is something wrong?” Odette asked, looking between us.

  “Give me a moment.” I kissed the back of her hand before taking the phone and stepping a few feet from her. “Arty?”

  “Forgive me for interrupting. I needed to speak to you. Are you all right?” His voice sounded so heavy and tired.

  “Yes, everything is fine here. The press found out?”

  “No. Luckily not. They just think he is sick with a cold and in bed. But at this rate, it will not be long. Someone is leaking information from the palace.” He let out another sigh.

  “You have not found them yet.”

  “No, but we will, and I will personally handle whomever it is. How is everything on your end? Iskandar informed me you both are in a relationship of sorts now?”

  I glanced back over to her as she hugged herself. When she noticed my glance, she looked at me curiously. I shook my head.

  “Yes, we are.”

  “Thank God. That’s the best news I have been given in days. How much longer until you can convince her to marry and come home.”

  “Arty, it has taken me days just to get to this far. She’s wary of getting close to people in general, let alone men.”

  “You are not just a man. You are her future husband. Make her understand that. I want you to want romance, but do not forget, we still need her money.”

  I rubbed the back of my head. “Rushing her to marry me so we can get her money...it feels dirty, Arty.”

  “Why? She knows that is the reason, too. When did you start to become so sentimental about using women?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. “I am working on it.”

  “Good. Now please be careful and listen to Iskandar. The last thing we need is the press scaring her off. They know you are not in the city, for sure.”

  “How?”

  “How?” he repeated. “Because of how often you go out when you are here. That is how.”

  “I feel a lecture coming on, so I am going. Goodbye,” I said as our car came around.

  “I will speak to you later. Keep me informed,” he replied before hanging up.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, walking back over to her.

  “Is everything—”

  “Oh, my God!” two random women nearly screamed, one pointing directly at me.

  “You are here!”

  Oh no...Panic rose in me, and I could see Iskandar coming around to block them from us when they brought out their phones. I grabbed Odette’s hand, already rushing to the door.

  “Wait, can we please get a picture, Odette!”

  I froze. Odette?

  I looked to them again to make sure, but they weren’t looking at me. Instead, they were looking at Odette like she was the only person here.

  “We are huge fans! We wanted to come to your show in San Francisco, but it was sold out. Can we please get a picture?” the other asked, stepping forward.

  Iskandar looked to me with a question on his face about what to do. But Odette ignored us both, letting go of my hand.

  “Of course,” she said to them and turned back to me, tossing me her purse. “Hold that for me.”

  They all tried to take selfies at first before she directed them to give the camera to Iskandar. I watched in shock and awe as he bent over and took their photos while I stood there doing the exact thing I was worried about doing a few minutes ago, standing on the sidelines, holding her bag. This was definitely a new experience.

  “Thank you so much!”

  “No problem. Thank you for loving my work,” Odette said to them, smiling back. She waved to them, then rushed to get into the car to escape the cold air. With us sitting back inside, Iskandar closed the door.

  “Your bag,” I said, handing it to her.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t take it. Instead, she put her hands up to the vents of the car.

  “For someone who loves the winter, you are always looking to escape the cold,” I said.

  “I’d rather be cold than hot. I can keep putting on clothes. In the summer, there is no way to beat the heat,” she replied and looked up to me. “Is everything okay back home?”

  “Yes and no,” I whispered, reaching over and taking her hands into mine. They were freezing.

  “Ah, I get it. It’s one of those if you tell me you’d have to kill me, royal family secrets?” she teased.

  I leaned forward, my lips by her ear. “Yes, but
as you are going to be part of that royal family, you may know.”

  “We are not taking it slow anymore, are we?”

  “You do not want to know? Even if it concerns you?”

  She looked at me for a long time and then nodded. “Okay, tell me.”

  “Once we get home.”

  Chapter 20

  I would be lying to myself if I said I didn’t feel anything when he said, “Once we get home.”

  It was my home. But knowing he considered it part his—not in a bad way, but a place for us both—was kind of nice. However, when we walked inside, and Iskandar and Wolfgang excused themselves, I figured whatever he was going to tell me was serious. He didn’t say anything at first, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch. I was just beginning to get anxious when he turned back to me.

  “Before we speak, do you mind helping me get this thing off?” He pointed to the wig on his head. “Your mother glued it down, and it itches like mad.”

  How was it that he always made me laugh even when he was not trying to?

  “Come on. The oil for it is in my room,” I said, going up the stairs.

  “Thank God! I was just thinking of yanking it off,” he said, following me.

  It was only when I was outside my door that I remembered I was inviting him inside of my room.

  “What? Is your underwear lying on the bed or something? Believe me, I will not mind,” he teased, and I felt the urge to kick him.

  “Saying something like that is not very prince-like,” I replied, opening the door for him.

  “I will be prince-like back in Ersovia, but here with you, I just want to be a man,” he said as he stepped inside my deep-pink bedroom. Behind my bed was a mural of a garden with flowers and wild peacocks. There were books and song sheets all over the place, but other than that, there was nothing really special.

  “Strangely, it is exactly as I thought it would be,” he said, turning back to me.

  “Why is that strange?”

  “Because I am never correct on what to expect from you.”

  “Expect nothing then,” I said, taking my vanity chair and bringing it into the bathroom. “Come in here. It’s going to be a little bit messy. You might want to take off your jacket and...and don’t make any sexual innuendoes.”

 

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