I liked to think I was a bit different, though. Before I worked as a Navy physician, I was also an Army physician, working on land to help soldiers, civilians, and captured enemy combatants alike. I liked to think I could be quite personal. People rarely realized that it took a certain level of personability to be a doctor. If I had a nickel for every time a patient refused to tell me what was wrong, I would have been able to retire twice over by now. No, I needed to know how to apply the charm, to get people talking. If I couldn’t get a patient to open up to me, it would have been impossible to treat them properly.
I shuffled across the deck briskly, moving out of the way of a couple of shipmates headed in the opposite direction. The rain had let up a little, but the bitter cold remained in the air as it pinched my skin numb. My mind was racing with all of the final checks that I had to complete once I made it back to the medical bay. I made a mental note to double check the locks on all of the medicine cabinets. The last thing I needed was a strong rock of the ship to knock the doors open, leaving little bottles to fly about everywhere. Not only would the captain have my head for wasting our dwindling medicinal supply, but it also would have been a pain to clean everything up.
But that was when my mind blanked.
My eyes fell upon her for the first time and knocked the breath right out of my lungs.
She was gorgeous. Beautiful. I didn’t know nearly enough words to describe her and do her justice. The moment I laid eyes on her, time seemed to stand still. I wondered if I needed to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Perhaps a bomb had exploded near us, thrown me off the side of the Obsidian Vow, and images of her were just a feverish hallucination. It seemed just as real of a possibility as the Princess standing before me.
I had never seen Princess Giselle before, had only heard rumors. Ever since the death of her mother, King Maximillian had insisted on raising Princess Giselle out of the spotlight. No pictures were to be taken and shared of her, descriptions in news articles were to be kept short and to the point. King Maximillian infamously ordered a gossip magazine company to close its doors a few years ago after they dared to try publishing a blurry image one of their photographers managed to capture of Princess Giselle attending a private charity event. The ban had only just recently been lifted in light of preparations for her ascension to the throne, but all of the images that had been appearing in recent articles and news headlines could barely do her justice.
One look at her and I could tell why His Royal Majesty would want to keep her out of the public eye. The people would be absolutely obsessed with her. She had long, gently curling brunette hair that reached well past her shoulders. She had a petite face and a pointed chin, a splattering of faint and delicate freckles decorating her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were like liquid amber, rich like honey and bright like gold. Part of me wanted to know if her fair skin felt as soft as it looked.
She was surrounded by a number of private security officers, all decked out in black. Their clothes looked incredibly bulky, which to my trained eye informed me that they were wearing protective gear beneath their layers of clothing. I could tell by the way they walked, huddled closely around King Maximillian and Princess Giselle, that they had firearms on their persons, concealed in various locations. People tended to walk a little taller when they were packing heat, something I’d seen time and time again being surrounded by fellow Sailors .
That was when she fell, landing awkwardly. She didn’t make a sound, but I could tell from the way her face curled up in agony that she’d hurt herself. A twinge of anger bloomed from my chest. How could her security staff have been so careless? They were right there. Why hadn’t they caught her before she’d fallen? Seeing her in obvious pain made my heart twist in my chest, an inexplicable protectiveness washing over me.
I stomped over and held my hand out to her. “May I be of some help to you?”
She looked up at me with those big, golden eyes, full lashes fluttering. Up close, I could better admire her full, rouged lips. She was in a pretty lilac dress that had three-quarter length sleeves and reached down to just above her knees. The fabric was a bit sheer and form-hugging, so I could easily make out the outline of her brassier just beneath. It took all of my strength not to stare at her chest. Since her eyes were so entrancing, it turned out to be an easy enough task.
“Um, yes, please,” she said.
Her voice. It nearly floored me. Sweet, yet sultry. I expected her to sound airy, borderline naïve and youthful. But there was something sophisticated about her tone. Her voice reminded me of the deepest notes of a violin, still high in timber, but seductively vibrant and warm.
I helped her to her feet. Her bodyguards finally decided to swoop in and help support her, pretty much shoving me out of the way. I wasn’t bothered, though. I was more concerned about the way she wasn’t able to place any of her weight on her right foot.
A stark man with pinched lips and a turned-up nose glared at me. “How dare you lay a hand on the princess.”
“Nathanial, it’s fine,” she said, wincing through her words.
“What is your name and rank, solider?” demanded King Maximillian. I wasn’t going to lie—the older man terrified me. He reminded me of my old human biology professor in college, every ounce was intimidating as he was gruff.
I stood at attention, giving His Royal Majesty a formal salute. “Lieutenant Leonard Pratchett. I’m the head physician aboard this ship. Please accept my sincerest apologies for my behavior.”
King Maximillian grunted. I couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing.
The man named Nathanial leaned in to whisper to the group. “We really must head to your private quarters. I’m sure the ship’s captain is eager to set sail.”
The king turned to his daughter and said, “Are you alright, Princess?”
She attempted to place her foot down and take a step, only to jump back onto her other foot and hiss. “I think I may have, um… I think I twisted my ankle, Father.”
King Maximillian turned back to me and snapped, “You. Attend to the princess.”
I bowed my head. “Of course, Your Majesty.” I looked at her bodyguards and tossed my head in the direction of the medical bay. “This way,” I said. “We can use one of the private medical rooms for the princess’ comfort.”
The medical bay was nothing fancy. Considering how old the Obsidian Vow was, it was actually fairly impressive how well put together the area was. A row of cots was lined up against one wall, bedsheets all freshly washed and made up while we were docked. All of the furniture was bolted down to the metal floor to ensure medical supplies and patients didn’t go flying about whenever we hit stormier weather. In the far corner of the bay were three smaller private examination rooms, the leftmost of which was already in use by another doctor.
I pointed to the room in the middle. “In here, please.” Princess Giselle nodded and hopped inside, too proud to let her bodyguard carry her in. She immediately took a seat on the examination table. When the brute of a man tried to enter after me, I placed my hand up in protest. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait here. For her privacy, you see.”
The man didn’t look impressed, just glared down at me with the heat of a thousand sounds. I had to admit I found it a little amusing. All my years of service had hardened my resolve. No amount of vicious glaring was going to make me change my mind. Sure, the man was taller and wider than I was, but I knew I could take him in a fight if it came to it. The bodyguard eventually huffed and turned, standing directly on the other side with a tick of impatience. I shut the door and returned my attention to Princess Giselle.
Was it just me, or was she checking my ass out?
I smiled at her, and she immediately glanced away, the tips of her ears turning an adorable shade of bright pink. I really, really wanted to tease her. But I knew that was an impossibility, unprofessional. She was a princess, a future Queen of Idolia. I was a nobody.
“I’m sorry abo
ut this,” she said quietly, softly. “I’m sure you have better things to be doing than looking after me, what with the last-minute turnaround.”
I shook my head and grinned. “Nonsense, Princess Giselle. This is quite literally my job.”
I approached her carefully and knelt down before her, gingerly lifting her foot up. Her ankle was indeed swollen, the surrounding skin already bruising. I moved her foot about slowly, testing her range of motion. Princess Giselle winced each time, hissing under her breath. “I think you have a sprained lateral ligament,” I announced.
“That sounds bad.”
I chuckled. “Just a rolled ankle. Nothing some anti-inflammatory tablets and lots of ice can’t fix. As long as you don’t plan on running any marathons anytime soon, you’ll be as good as new in four to six weeks.”
Princess Giselle giggled, and my heart almost exploded at the sound. It was light and bubbly like champagne. I glanced up at her, doing my best not to stare up past the hem of her dress.
“I’ve never been much of a runner,” she admitted.
“You could have fooled me. You’ve got great legs.” I mentally kicked myself. Did I really just say that? I coughed and cleared my throat. “I mean, uh, from a medical perspective. You seem to be in great, um, shape.”
Smooth, Leo. Real smooth.
Princess Giselle giggled again. “Well, that’s good, I guess.”
I rose to my feet and hurried over to the medical supply cabinet, taking my time to shuffle through the various bandages and medicines in the hopes that I could get my heart to calm down. I returned with a compression wrap and immediately began to support her ankle.
“How long have you been a doctor, Lieutenant Pratchett?”
I smiled. “Please, Leo is fine.”
“How long have you been a Navy doctor, Leo?” she asked. It was almost ridiculous how much I liked the sound of my name rolling fluidly off her tongue.
“Ten years as of next November.”
“That’s an incredibly long time. You must enjoy your work.”
I nodded. “I like to help people. Always have.”
“That’s very noble of you.”
My heart skipped at the compliment. “That’s kind of you to say, Princess Giselle.”
She smiled, wide and brilliant and like nothing I’d ever seen before. The corners of her amber eyes crinkled as she grinned, little dimples forming in her cheeks with the stretch of her mouth. It occurred to me that this was the first time I’d actually seen her smile. I wanted to commit her expression to memory, the warmth of it filling my chest with a giddy excitement I hadn’t felt in years.
“Giselle,” she whispered. “Giselle is fine.”
“Giselle,” I said, testing the feel of her name in my mouth. It felt absolutely wonderful rolling off of my tongue. “Well, Giselle, it looks like you’re all set.”
Something akin to dissatisfaction flashed across her face, but it was quickly replaced with a polite smile. It wasn’t genuine, not like before. It was forced and stiff and well-practiced. Before I opened the door to let her brooding bodyguard back in, I handed her a small packet of ibuprofen. Our fingers grazed over one another, the contact both exhilarating and disappointingly fleeting. Giselle’s breath hitched, and my heart stopped. Our eyes were locked with each other’s, something electric passing between us like a silent conversation.
I was the first to pull away. What was I even thinking? There was no way the princess would ever be as interested in me as I was in her. She probably had an entire line of suitors, worldly men from good backgrounds and plenty of money. Stiffly, I walked over to the door and allowed her bodyguard back in.
“Keep plenty of ice on that ankle,” I said, casting my eyes to the hard metal floor. “I don’t recommend a lot of walking, if you can help it.”
“Yes, doctor,” she said calmly.
“I’ll see if I can scrounge up a pair of crutches for you. To make sure you don’t put any unnecessary weight on your foot.”
Giselle nodded, some of her elegant locks falling over her face. It was hypnotizing to watch. The corners of her lips ticked up into a small, coy grin. “Thank you, Leo.”
“Anytime, Princess.”
Her bodyguard fluidly picked her up and carried her out of the medical exam room in his arms. She looked lighter than air, moving with such grace that it looked as though she floated into his grasp and slung an arm over his shoulder.
For some reason, I watched as they went with a bitter jealousy eating away at the back of my mind. I wanted to know what it was like to hold her, to feel her resting her head on my chest. It was just that she looked so small and adorable and fragile that I instinctively wanted to make sure she was okay, to shield her from the rest of the world.
3
Giselle
I didn’t get a wink of sleep that night. It wasn’t because of the rocking of the ship or all of the terrified excitement from escaping Weles unscathed. I wasn’t able to sleep because my mind ran wild with thoughts of Leo. Doctor Leo. Lieutenant Leo. Looks-great-in-his-spiffy-uniform-but-I-want-to-see-what’s-underneath Leo.
My skin still burned like soft fire where he touched me. My skin tingled whenever I thought about how his eyes raked over me, pupils dilated and so clearly full of hunger. I’d been the subject of many suitors in the past. As a matter of fact, I still was. Nathanial had a never-ending list of potential husbands from foreign kingdoms that I could marry for political gain. Because of course it was for political gain, never for love. As future queen, every decision I made mattered. From the dress I decided to wear that day, to the symbolic significance of the jewelry I wore, to the words I spoke, to the decision of who I chose to spend the rest of my day—it all mattered.
But Leo was different.
I held my breath the entire time we shared the exam room’s space. I watched his every movement, studied his large, strong hands. They handled me with such care, worked with such diligence that I simply couldn’t fathom how a man like him wound up in a place like this. Up close, I was able to catch a trace of the faint scar across his left temple. I wondered how it got there. I wondered if I’d be allowed to graze my fingers along its length, maybe press my lips to it. Maybe press my lips to the back of his eyelids, the tip of his nose, to his mouth.
I sat up in bed. It wasn’t really a bed, but it was close enough. It was a small twin-sized cot. The sheets were scratchy, the pillow was much too hard, and the constant rocking of the ship left my stomach queasy. I supposed I couldn’t complain. My accommodations were the best the ship’s captain could arrange on such short notice. My father had his own room just down the narrow hall, and I couldn’t help but wonder which poor crewmates were displaced because of our unannounced presence.
I slipped out from under the covers and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I didn’t even attempt to place my right foot on the floor. It was already throbbing like crazy and part of the reason why I had trouble sleeping. I’d popped two anti-inflammatory tablets in the hopes that the swelling would go down, but it didn’t appear to have much of an affect. Leo had mentioned something about keeping my ankle on ice, but I’d been so distracted by his intense gaze that some of his advice was lost on me.
Peering out of my room’s porthole, I could see nothing but dark skies and turbulent waves for as far as the eye could see. I wondered what time it was, so I pulled my phone out to check. It was a little after eight in the morning, though it looked far earlier thanks to the lack of general sunlight and the greyness of the walls that surrounded me. Much to my disappointment, I only had twenty percent battery left, and I’d forgotten my charger somewhere during the evacuation.
Three sharp knocks sounded at my door.
I had slept in the clothes I’d escaped Weles in, the fabric a bit wrinkled in places. My hair was a bit tangled, but other than that, I was perfectly fine to accept company. “Come in,” I said clearly, quickly wiping at the corners of my mouth.
The door to my room squeaked open
on rusty old hinges. To my utter surprise, Leo walked in with a fresh bag of ice wrapped in a tea towel in one hand and a pair of crutches in the other. He looked as prim and proper as ever, devilishly handsome in his crisp uniform. Not a hair on his head was out of place, and he wore the same charming smile as he had the day before.
“Good morning, Princess,” he said, voice deep, low, and tantalizing.
“Giselle,” I insisted. “Please.”
He nodded, still grinning. My God, could he be any more handsome? He held up the crutches. “I managed to find these for you. Should you feel inclined to roam about the ship. It’s a good idea to get fresh air every now and then.”
“Thank you very much,” I said, cheeks already getting dangerously warm.
“How’s your ankle? Still bothering you?”
“Um, yes. A little.”
“Would you mind if I take a look?”
Air caught in my throat. I had to remind myself to breath. “I don’t mind at all,” I answered as calmly as possible even though I was screaming excitedly in my head.
Leo approached and knelt down in front of me, just as he had the other day. He gingerly lifted my foot and placed it on his thigh, carefully unwrapping my bandages to better examine my injury. The tips of his fingers grazed the tender area, but his touch was so gentle that it didn’t hurt. In a weird way, it was a relief to feel his hands there, the warmth of his palms soothing away the pain.
“The swelling’s still pretty bad,” he said. “But hopefully the ice helps.” He rewrapped my bandages with as much diligence as he had the previous day and placed the bag of ice over the area. As he attended to me, he said, “How are you adjusting to the Obsidian Vow?”
“Fairly well,” I lied. “Though I much prefer to travel by plane.”
Leo chuckled. “It is much faster. You could have been home by now had the airways been clear.”
“What about you?” I inquired. “What made you want to join the Navy specifically? Isn’t the Air Force more glamorous?”
Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5 Page 54