Royally Lost

by Stanton, Angie

  Becca fetched the magazine from his pack. “I can’t believe we’re on the cover. Look, you can even see my freckles.”

  Nikolai grinned. Becca looked sexy as hell in the photo. “Now I’ll have a picture of you in your underwear to enjoy forever.”

  Becca’s cheeks turned rosy. “Thank God my dad didn’t see this. I can’t even imagine what he’d think. He’d probably never believe it. Then again, once he gets Dylan’s message that we aren’t going to be on the next flight, he’ll probably have a coronary.”

  “What do you think he’ll do?”

  “Probably the world’s longest lecture and guilt trip. ‘I expected better from you.’ Stuff like that.”

  Nikolai knew he’d get even more grief when his parents saw this new round of photos. It was bad enough to run off, but now pictures of him in nothing more than underwear and a beautiful girl in his arms . . . that would raise a whole new level of disapproval. This was one more reason he was so reluctant to go back, but his money was running low, and if he kept getting recognized, so would his time with Becca.

  “So what does the headline say?” she asked, struggling to decipher the German language printed on the magazine cover.

  He cringed.

  “What? Tell me. It can’t be that bad.”

  He shook his head and recited the headline. “Loosely translated, it says ‘Heir He Is, Naughty Nikolai!’”

  “It does not!”

  “Sadly, it does.”

  “What are your parents going to think, or better yet, what will the king say?” She giggled.

  Nikolai wished it were funny, but it really wasn’t. “I assure you they won’t be laughing.” He felt his parents’ leash tightening.

  “Read some more.”

  He sighed, picked up the magazine, and read aloud.

  “‘The palace remains silent about the missing prince, but insiders say fury reigns. Prince Nikolai, the newly crowned Mondovian bad boy, has been spotted time and again celebrating an impromptu holiday. The question now is where will he pop up next? Who is the mystery girl? And when will the king put an end to Nikolai’s uncharacteristic folly?’”

  He tossed the magazine down.

  “Yikes.” Becca reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was bound to happen eventually. I just loved being anonymous for a while.” He squeezed her hand.

  “Now that we’re in a different city and not even near the Danube, we should be safe, don’t you think?”

  “I hope so.” But the oppressive weight of the monarchy grew near. He just needed three more days with Becca, and then he’d force himself home and beg forgiveness.

  After lunch they rode to the hostel closest to Old Town, but there were no vacancies. They discovered the second hostel tucked in a neighborhood near old mansions and government buildings.

  Nikolai stopped at a crossroad and did a double take. His chest tightened.

  He tapped Becca’s leg and pointed across the street. They both raised the face guards on their helmets so they could talk to each other.

  She spoke. “Is that . . .”

  He finished for her. “The Mondovian Embassy.”

  20

  A jumble of emotions wrestled inside him as the Mondovian flag waved over the majestic building. His family coat of arms was proudly emblazoned on a bronze seal next to the double doors.

  Great pride flooded over him at the sight of his country’s flag. It represented everything about who he was. But deep dread also snaked toward him, threatening to put a stranglehold on him and control his life forever.

  “Let’s get out of here! Hurry!” Becca nudged his shoulder.

  He snapped his face guard down, and sped off, struggling to stay within the speed limit.

  When they were safely away, and his pulse slowed, he consulted the map and located the third hostel. It sat on a quiet side street that lacked big businesses and heavy traffic. The building featured a stylish archway leading to a private patio. Ivy climbed the side of the building. They parked around the corner, each checking the area for onlookers. Now that they’d seen his embassy, suddenly the threat of discovery loomed closer.

  “Did you know that Mondovia had an embassy here?” Becca asked.

  “Yes, but I didn’t expect to see it. I assumed it would be far from the tourist part of town.” Nikolai helped Becca with her helmet, then removed his own.

  “Well, if they’re really serious about finding you, they won’t have to look far.” She grimaced. “Maybe we shouldn’t stay in Prague.”

  Nikolai’s shoulders tensed. “No, I don’t want to ruin our plans. We’ll be careful and blend in, but maybe you should do the talking when we check in.” He put on his cap, pulling the bill low over his eyes.

  Becca was immediately struck by the scent of stale coffee and the low rumble of chatter. They crossed the scratched wood floor, past a wall of storage lockers, posted house rules, and a list of restaurants. Nikolai hung back and concentrated on a bulletin board with lists of things to do as she approached the registration desk.

  A thirty-something guy, wearing a ponytail and wire-rimmed glasses, spoke on the phone in a foreign tongue. Becca panicked. She couldn’t check them in if she couldn’t speak the language. He ended his call, looked at her, and spoke rapid gibberish.

  She stuttered. “Ah, um, do you maybe speak English?”

  “Hi. I’m Kristoff, may I help you?” He switched languages with ease and a friendly smile.

  Becca could swear she heard Nikolai chuckle. “Oh good! Hi. We’d like to check in.”

  “Do you have a reservation?”

  “No, do we need one?”

  “Not today. We still have space. How many nights do you need?”

  “Two.” She glanced into the next room where a handful of people hung out on couches. There were more seating areas, a wall of shelves overflowing with books, and games, and colorful paintings on the wall.

  Kristoff checked his scheduling book. “Let’s see. There is space in one of the coed dorms.”

  Becca never really thought about sleeping arrangements. Was Nikolai expecting to share a room? To sleep together? They’d shared her cabin the other night, but he’d been a total gentleman. Heck, she didn’t know if she wanted to share a bed or not. Thank God the decision was out of her hands.

  She glanced at Nikolai, who stood with his back to the front desk and nodded.

  “Yes, that would be great.”

  Kristoff filled out the paperwork. Nikolai handed her his portion of the money. She didn’t have a lot of cash, so she put hers on her credit card.

  “Welcome to Prague House.” Kristoff came out from behind the counter. “This is the common room. Lockers are over there. We encourage you to keep your valuables locked up.”

  They gathered their stuff and followed him.

  “Breakfast is self-serve from six to nine a.m. in the room around the corner. Down the hall is the game room with a pool table and darts. You’re in dorm number three on the third floor.” He indicated a narrow stairway in the corner. “There’s bedding in the hall closet. Once a bed is made, it’s considered occupied, so only pick an unmade bed.”

  “Thank you,” Becca said. Nikolai mumbled thanks while acting fascinated with the floorboards.

  Becca couldn’t imagine Nikolai being recognized with his scruffy face. He looked so different now from the magazine photos Dylan had shown her.

  A couple of guys lounged on the couches, chatting with two girls who eyed Nikolai.

  “How you doing?” asked a guy with shaggy dark hair and long sideburns.

  “Hi.” Becca smiled as they passed.

  Nikolai guided her ahead and they climbed the creaky steps to the third floor. The dorm room contained six sets of metal bunk beds holding the thinnest mattresses she’d ever seen. The walls were stark white, the windows covered by ratty old blinds. They located two tiny bathrooms at the end of the hall.

  “Is this what your other hostels were like?” Had
the Prince of Mondovia really stayed in such lowbrow lodging?

  “More or less, except I was able to stay in a single room at the last few. This ought to be fun! Do you want to be on top or bottom?” He grinned.

  She shook her head and tried to frown, but a smile snuck out. “I am not going to encourage you.”

  They made up side-by-side lower bunk beds, washed up, and after securing their backpacks in a locker, Nikolai took her hand and they headed for Old Town.

  “I feel so free!” Becca said, swinging her arms.

  Nikolai put his arm around Becca and kissed her. “You and me both.”

  A few blocks later, they turned a bend and the volume of tourists increased. They passed street performers, and all the shops overflowed with souvenirs such as nesting dolls, T-shirts, and chess sets. Nearly every building housed an outdoor café.

  On each corner, there were booths selling tours to nearby castles and classical concerts.

  “Please tell me you don’t want to see a concert,” Nikolai said.

  Becca curled her lip in disdain at the rack of pamphlets featuring tuxedoed performers holding stringed instruments. “Not if it involves an orchestra, I don’t. That kind of music puts me to sleep.”

  Ahead, an enormous archway stretched across the road as if at one time it served as the divider of one side of the city from the other. They passed under the ancient structure and entered another world where an average girl like Becca could walk the streets of an exotic city with a prince holding her hand.

  After a few more blocks, they found themselves in the Old Town Square, a wide open plaza. People of all ages and nationalities meandered the square. Becca glanced at Nikolai with his sunglasses and cap. He looked like every other tourist. This seemed the perfect place to blend in.

  “Look, there’s the Astronomical Clock.”

  Nikolai pointed to an old structure in the center of the square that towered high above all the other buildings. Clusters of people gathered in front taking pictures.

  The historic clock was a large combination of dials, astronomical symbols, roman numerals, and foreign letters. “And how do you tell time on that?” Becca asked, pulling out her phone and taking a picture.

  “I have no idea,” he said, examining the complicated timepiece.

  “Stand closer and I’ll take your picture,” she said.

  “Only if you’re in it with me. Excuse me,” Nikolai asked a gray-haired man. “Would you be so kind as to take our picture?”

  “Sure. I’d be happy to,” he said, taking the phone. He snapped a photo. “Where are you from?”

  “Chicago,” Becca blurted to make sure Nikolai didn’t accidentally reveal his home nation.

  “We’re from Cleveland, practically neighbors.” The man passed the phone back to Becca.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Have a nice day,” he said and wandered off.

  “Do you want to climb the tower?” Nikolai asked.

  “Sure.”

  They bought tickets and started the long trek up the stone steps. As they neared the top, the wide staircase narrowed to a spiral staircase. And for the final flight of even narrower steps, a light shone red or green, indicating when it was their turn to ascend.

  Nikolai and Becca climbed the final steps to a large open area at the top. A walkway with window-like openings surrounded the tower.

  “Look, you can see for miles,” Becca said. They had a perfect view of the rooftops and steeples of Prague. Across the river, a spectacular castle rested upon a hilltop. “What’s that, your summer home?” Becca teased, betting she wasn’t far off the truth.

  Nikolai put his arm around her waist and tickled her. “You’re so funny.”

  She giggled. “So, do you have a bunch of relatives here, too?”

  “If you look back far enough in anyone’s ancestry, I’m sure we all have relatives everywhere, but no, not that I know of, which is one reason I know very little about Prague beyond its general history.”

  “Finally something you don’t know.” She grinned and leaned back against him. He wrapped his arms around her and tucked his chin over her head. Below, the people looked tiny, and the umbrellas at the restaurants’ outdoor tables resembled miniature garnishes for tropical drinks. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “For what?”

  “For bringing me here. I swear this is the best time I’ve had in my entire life.”

  “Me too,” he said.

  After leaving the clock, and the crowds waiting for the next chiming, Nikolai and Becca wandered off the square to the smaller streets and passed a puppet shop. “Oh, that totally gives me the creeps.” Becca shuddered.

  “What, you don’t like painted faces with fixed eyes staring at you?”

  “No, they’re almost as bad as clowns.”

  “Puppets and clowns. What did they ever do to you?”

  “Nothing, they’re just weird. They don’t creep you out?”

  “No. I actually like them. When I was little, there was a puppeteer who would come put on performances for me and my little sister. He was always nice to me. I didn’t have many kids to play with, and I guess that in a way the puppets were like friends for me.”

  “That is so sad,” Becca said.

  “Don’t worry. I think I turned out okay, and Alexi did, too.”

  “You turned out more than okay.” Becca slipped her arm around his waist and hooked her thumb in his belt loop. “So, you and your sister are close?”

  Nikolai draped her arm around Becca, loving how natural it felt to be with her. “Yes. She was usually the only other person around that was within two decades of my age. When I was older, I loved escaping to school, but now that’s all over and I’ll be leaving for the military soon.”

  “So you’re really going?”

  “I don’t see how I have any other choice.” He’d been racking his brain, trying to come up with a way out of it, but tradition anchored his parents’ belief system, and after all the bad press he’d created, he knew they wouldn’t listen to him.

  “I hate that so much!” She laid her head on his shoulder.

  He pulled her close. He couldn’t imagine the past week without Becca in his life, and even more, he couldn’t imagine how it would be after she was gone.

  They walked a bit farther, and he spotted a hardware store on the corner and got an idea. “Do you mind waiting here? I want to check in that store for something.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Just a little something. It’s a surprise.”

  “From a hardware store? How special.”

  “Don’t judge. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

  “Okay, now you have me intrigued.”

  “Good. I’ll be right back.” Nikolai left her on the corner, crossed the street, and entered the store. He checked on her from the front display window. She was digging in her shoulder bag, not spying on him. He smiled, satisfied.

  He walked the aisles past nails, hinges, and tools until he spotted what he needed. Nikolai paid the cashier and slipped his purchase deep into his pocket.

  As he exited, he spotted a grungy guy with dirty hair and a faded T-shirt talking to Becca. She leaned away from the stranger. Nikolai hurried his pace. Becca looked in his direction with relief in her eyes.

  Suddenly, the man grabbed her shoulder bag.

  Nikolai raced across the street as Becca fought to hold on to her bag. He grabbed the thief from behind. “Let her go!”

  The man spun around and clocked Nikolai in the face with his elbow, knocking Nikolai to the ground.

  Becca screamed.

  The robber tore the bag from her hands and started to flee. Nikolai lunged for the assailant’s leg. The guy dragged Nikolai across the rough road for a few feet before kicking free and disappearing around the corner.

  Nikolai lay sprawled on the ground, his hat knocked off, and sunglasses broken. “Dammit. He got away. I’m sorry.” He tossed his broken sunglasses.
r />   “Are you okay?” Becca crouched next to him. “You’re bleeding!”

  Nikolai touched the bridge of his nose and discovered a little blood. “I’ll live. I can’t believe I let him steal your bag.” His face hurt from where he’d been elbowed near the eye.

  “He took my wallet and all my money and . . . Oh no! Nikolai! He’s got my passport!”

  21

  Thirty minutes later, they arrived back at the hostel. Nikolai’s cheek and the bridge of his nose throbbed. Not only had he not protected Becca, he took a couple of direct hits in the process, and created a photo-worthy scene.

  “I’ll see if they have any ice,” Becca said, approaching the registration counter.

  “Okay, I’m going to grab us a couple of waters.” He bought bottled water at a vending machine off the common room, carried them back, and sank onto one of the unoccupied couches.

  “What happened to you?” asked one of the guys they’d seen at check-in earlier.

  “Oh, just a little run-in with someone’s elbow.”

  “Ouch,” said the tall brunette girl coming over to check it out. “That sucks.”

  “That it does.” He held the cool bottle against his eye area.

  “I’m Claire,” she said. “And this is Brian, James, and Andrea.”

  “Hi, I’m Nick.” He wished he and Becca had a private room where he could hide out.

  Becca joined him, holding a small plastic bag filled with ice.

  “And this is Becca. Becca, this is Claire.”

  Claire grinned that hungry, interested smile he’d seen dozens of times before. He felt a little too exposed without his sunglasses to hide behind. “And Brian, James, and Andrea.” Claire pointed to each.

  “Hi.” Becca handed him the ice bag, which he pressed to his nose. “There’s an ice machine next to the lobby bathroom. I told the desk clerk about my stolen passport. He said the U.S. Embassy is closed for the day, but they have an emergency after-hours number.”

  “Someone stole your passport? That’s terrible,” said Andrea.

  “Tell me about it,” Becca answered.

  “Oh no, what about your phone?” Nikolai lowered the ice bag from his face.