Royally Lost

by Stanton, Angie

  Her eyes rested on the locker in the hall. She unlocked it with the key from her pocket, pulled out Nikolai’s backpack, and carried the pack up to the dorm room. The other beds were bare. The guests must have moved on. She unzipped his pack and touched the clothes inside. They smelled like Nikolai, fresh and earthy.

  Lying down on his bed brought back memories of last night when they’d slept snuggled together. She had woken up to his warm kisses.

  Becca hugged his backpack close and stared into space. She had no money, no passport, and no Nikolai.

  What was she supposed to do?

  25

  Nikolai arrived at the palace late that night under the cover of darkness. He’d been taken to a private plane at a landing field outside Prague, where he met Visar. Now, back in Mondovia, a car with tinted windows delivered him home.

  The brightly lit majestic palace appeared all too familiar. Nikolai longed for Becca, but knew he wouldn’t be seeing her any time soon. He smoothed down his hair and wiped his hands on the back of his shorts. Visar didn’t allow him a moment to clean up. Instead, he escorted Nikolai down the long hallway of sculptures to his father’s drawing room. The eyes on the busts of each of his ancestors seemed to follow his walk of shame.

  Visar rapped firmly on the thick door. He grabbed Nikolai’s arm.

  Nikolai glared back at the man. “I think you’ve done your job here. I am fully capable of entering a room without your assistance.”

  The head of the Mondovian security released Nikolai’s arm, but held his position. Nikolai took a fortifying breath. This was not how he hoped to return. He opened the door and entered.

  His parents looked icily across the room at him.

  “Thank you, Visar. As always, you can be counted on to complete an assignment,” his father said. “However, causing a scene on public streets was not what I had in mind. Complete discretion would have been ideal, but I’m sure my son was the cause of the disruption.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Visar nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind him.

  Nikolai crossed the Aubusson rug and approached his parents. They sat in the casual seating area, each holding a cut-crystal glass of port.

  His father wore a crisp button-down shirt, open at the collar, with no tie or jacket, his jaw stern with irritation. His mother wore a simple blouse and slacks, her steady expression unreadable.

  They had waited up for him. Nikolai remained standing and silent. This was the moment he’d been dreading.

  His mother set her port on the table and reached for a stack of newspapers and magazines. “Swimming in your underwear with random girls, public scuffles,” she said with disdain at the condemning photographs as she dropped each publication to the table.

  Nikolai held his tongue.

  His father shook his head. “Look at yourself. You are unshaven, unwashed, with a black eye and blood on your face. You look like a homeless street beggar. Have you lost your mind? You assaulted your own guard, and in public!”

  “They certainly didn’t act as my guard. They assaulted me!”

  His father tossed back the remains of his drink. “Clearly you are not ready to accept responsibility for this country.”

  Nikolai approached them. “No kidding! And as long as things stay as they are, I never will be!”

  “I’ve heard just about enough from you.” His father stood so they were matched eye to eye.

  Nikolai huffed. “No, I’m afraid that’s the problem. You never listen to me.” He looked away, unable to hold his father’s hostile stare.

  As if Nikolai hadn’t spoken, his father continued. “Do you realize the media storm you have created? These pictures are everywhere. The world is enjoying a good laugh over your irresponsible behavior, including your loose relations with that girl you traipsed across Europe with.”

  “She’s not just any girl! She’s very important to me.”

  His father turned his back on Nikolai and refilled his glass.

  “And you sent your goons after me in broad daylight, putting her in the middle of it all.”

  “I hardly believe she’s a delicate flower. From these pictures, she was half the problem.” His mother slapped down a news article that must have been recently printed from the internet.

  The photo showed Becca, with a fierce expression, pounding her fists against one of the guards as Nikolai was held back by three men. The photo proved Nikolai had been taken by force.

  His mother read the headline aloud. “‘The Prince Dukes It Out in the Battle Royale.’ What were you thinking! You have disgraced your country and embarrassed the palace.”

  “I was reminding myself that there is more to life than protocol and public relations.” All he knew was that Becca had fought for him. It made him proud, but he also worried for her.

  “No wonder you ignored Visar. Your mind was on a wild girl instead of your responsibilities. What kind of girl takes off with a complete stranger? But then again, the Crown Prince of Mondovia would be an irresistible temptation to a girl like her,” his mother said.

  “What the hell were you thinking, Nikolai?” his father barked. “That girl better not end up pregnant!”

  “It’s not like that! You’re the one who had me dragged off the street and locked into a van without a chance to say good-bye, let alone make sure she’s okay. Because of you, that girl is stranded in a foreign country. You have to let me contact her and make sure she gets out okay.”

  “I think you’ve done quite enough. If she can stand up to the Royal Guard, she can certainly find her way to the airport,” his father said.

  “We will deal with the repercussions of your actions and decide on your future tomorrow.”

  “Go to your room and clean yourself up,” his mother snapped.

  Nikolai slammed the door to his suite. Nothing had changed at all. His efforts to send a message to his parents were a huge fail. If anything, he’d made things worse. He dropped onto his sofa and lay back. He covered his eyes with his arm.

  Somehow, he needed to get a message to Becca before she left Prague, and the only way to do that was through the hostel. The moment in the van when he discovered his phone missing, he wanted to scream and punch something. That phone was his only link to Becca. If she left Prague before he could track her down, he didn’t know how he’d find her.

  Becca woke up in the hostel, alone, in Nikolai’s bed. The emptiness of the vacant dorm room echoed in her heart. Somehow she hoped he’d magically appear in the night and say there had been a crazy misunderstanding. She caressed the T-shirt she’d pulled from his pack. She kept imagining Nikolai and the way he smirked whenever she said something he didn’t agree with.

  No wonder Nikolai wanted to be Jason Bourne. Here she’d been feeling she had so little choice in her life, being forced on this trip, and pushed to go to Northwestern. Her father was never at a lack of direction for her life, but compared to Nikolai’s life, hers was a breeze.

  She got up and noticed her reflection in the mirror. Mascara stained her eyes, and her hair tangled around her face due to a fitful sleep. She stood like a zombie in the shower as the water pelted her skin, and tried to digest all that had happened since meeting Nikolai.

  She had started out this trip hating Europe. But then she met the most amazing guy on the planet, only to have him literally ripped from her side.

  What should she do next? This was all too much. She wanted to run away and hide, but with no money, no passport, and no Nikolai, that wasn’t possible.

  After dressing, repacking the two backpacks, and locking them in the cabinet, she climbed the narrow stairs to the rooftop patio. The morning was crisp and bright with the sun rising over the buildings, promising a gorgeous day, a sharp contrast to her mood.

  She pulled out her phone, grateful to have it after everything else she’d lost, and called her brother.

  He didn’t answer. She sighed and left a short message. “Hey, Dylan. Everything is falling apart here, and I desperately
need your help. Please call as soon as you get this. Bye.” She held her head in her hands, willing herself to hold it together.

  A few tourists she hadn’t seen before entered the patio. She forced a smile and went downstairs to avoid conversation. With nothing better to do, she decided to go see if her passport was ready.

  Behind the counter, Kristoff read the morning paper.

  “Hi,” Becca said.

  “Good morning.” He set the newspaper aside. “You made the paper!” He held up the local news.

  There on the front page was a picture of a struggling Nikolai being dragged away while Becca fought to save him.

  “You are famous now, too.” He grinned.

  She sighed. “No. I’m not famous. I’m just a girl with no passport who needs to go home. Can you show me on the map how to get to the U.S. Embassy? I was there yesterday morning, but I’m afraid I’ll get lost without a map.”

  “Don’t look so sad. You are in the most beautiful city in the world. Things could be worse.”

  “I don’t think they could get much worse than they already are. I also need my brother to wire me some money. Can you help me, please? Someplace close by would be best.”

  “Of course. There is a place near your embassy. I will show you,” he said, reaching for a map.

  Becca counted off the blocks until she reached the correct street. Walking by herself was lonely and kind of scary. Suddenly, her phone rang. She hoped it would be Nikolai, even though she knew he didn’t have her number. It was Dylan.

  “Hi,” she answered with a sigh.

  “I leave you alone for two days and you make international headlines,” he laughed.

  She stopped. “What! How did you know?”

  “Becca, you’re on the front page of the national paper here. Apparently, when a prince makes a public scene, it’s big news.”

  “Dylan, it’s not funny.” Her voice broke with emotion.

  “Aw, relax. I was just kidding.”

  Some workmen across the street leered at her, so she continued walking. “I know. It’s just that the last day has been pretty horrible. My bag got stolen with all my money and my passport. Nikolai was paying for everything, but now he’s gone, too. I’m really hungry, I’ve got a headache, and I think I missed the cross street for the embassy. Dammit!”

  “Shit, Becs. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t like being here by myself. I just want to go home.”

  “What happened with Nikolai? The paper was speculating everything from terrorist abduction to his own security jumping him.”

  “He said it was his father’s men. That’s all I know. We didn’t get a chance to talk much as they dragged him away.”

  “That sucks. Well, I’m sure he’ll call you as soon as things calm down.”

  Her heart ached. “No, I don’t think so. He dropped his phone during the fight, so he won’t know how to get ahold of me.”

  “Aw, don’t count him out yet. He’s a smart guy and will figure something out.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I do. So do you have your airline tickets or did those get stolen, too?”

  “I’ve got them. They’re just e-tickets, so I left them in my bag at the hostel. But Nikolai and I were going to ride to Nuremberg on his cycle. How am I going to get there now?” She looked at her map and at the street sign, then turned right.

  “You’ll have to take a train. It’s not hard. And I’ll figure out how to wire you money from my credit card as soon as we hang up.”

  “Good. I’ve got the information on where to pick it up.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you back as soon as I get to a bank. Listen. I know this is hard, but you can do this, Becca.”

  “Thanks, Dylan.” She spotted the familiar, beautiful sight of the American flag up ahead. “Oh my God, Dylan! I found the embassy!”

  “See? You’re going to be fine.”

  26

  The next morning, Nikolai rose early, a pit of despair in his gut. His attempts last night to find a number for the hostel had failed. Every laptop, computer, and phone had either been removed, or access to it locked down.

  A breakfast tray was delivered to his rooms. Apparently, he was under house arrest.

  He didn’t know if he should direct his anger at his parents or Visar and his mastermind of security experts. They must be nervous he’d sneak off again or try to get Becca to spring him out of his palace prison. They weren’t far off the truth.

  Today he would track down a computer, but first he needed to shave before his mother sent someone in with a straight-edge blade to do it for him. Nikolai looked in the mirror. Not much he could do about his black eye.

  As he lathered shaving cream on his face, Alexi burst in.

  “You’re back!” She barreled across the room and into his arms. “When did you get home?”

  “Late last night. Careful or you’ll be covered in foam.” He hugged his sister and realized how much he’d missed her.

  “I don’t care. You should have woken me up.” She sat at the dressing table beside him.

  Nikolai looked closer. He couldn’t possibly be seeing a pink sparkling piercing. “Did you pierce your nose?”

  “Do you like it?” She beamed with pride over her sparkly nose stud.

  “How did—”

  “Well, you weren’t the only one having fun. A few days ago, I snuck out of the opening of the new opera. You were supposed to be there, so I had to go. Thanks for that! Mother was distracted with Lady Peregrine. I said I was going to the ladies’ room, but instead I ran to the mall.”

  “Alexi! I read online about you taking off. Are you crazy?”

  “It was only for a couple of hours, but it was totally worth it. I figured Mother and Father should know I won’t be any easier.” She grinned.

  “You shouldn’t have.” He laughed and ran the razor over his cheek, creating a clean path on his face.

  “I had to! They are so out of touch. They need some tough love.”

  He rinsed away the hair and watched as a bit of his freedom swirled down the drain. “My escape didn’t seem to change anything. Maybe you’ll have better luck. I’m surprised Father hasn’t demanded you take it out.”

  Alexi giggled. “He did, but I refused.”

  “And he and Mother let you get away with it?”

  “When I said I wouldn’t take it out, they took away my phone, my computer, all my electronics. Life has been pretty quiet, but it’s so worth it. I haven’t had to go to any official events because Mother doesn’t want anyone to see my piercing.”

  Nikolai couldn’t believe his sister. “I think you’re gutsier than I am.”

  “And look at your face! You’ve got a black eye.”

  He swiped off another section of beard.

  “Did that happen when you got mugged?”

  “It was my friend who was mugged, but yeah, that’s when it happened. How did you know about that?”

  “The only way I could find out what you’ve been doing is to have my maid sneak the papers in. So was your trip as wild as the papers say?”

  “Other than the last day, when Visar publicly dragged me away, it was great.” His thoughts turned to Becca, and he worried all over again.

  “And who is the girl? She’s so pretty. Everyone wanted to know how you met. Are you going to see her again?”

  “Her name is Becca, and she’s American. Fate kept putting us in each other’s path. I realized that she was someone I was supposed to know.” He smiled at the memory of all the times he ran into Becca.

  “And you really like her?”

  “Yeah. I do. But now she’s stuck in Prague by herself. Her bag was stolen, she has no money or passport, and she’s supposed to fly home out of Nuremberg tomorrow.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I need to get in touch with her. I had her number, but I lost it along with my phone. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

  “Just call the place where you were staying. She’ll
be there one more day, right?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but every phone and computer around here has mysteriously disappeared.” He finished shaving.

  “Your rooms, too?”

  “Maybe I can get Dmitri to track down her number for me.”

  Alexi shot him a troubled look.

  “What?”

  “Dmitri was fired when Father found out he gave you money. Apparently loyalty is only useful if you are the one in charge. Loyalty to you or me is considered treason,” she said.

  “This place is screwed up. I don’t know if I can stand staying.”

  He wiped his face with a towel. But then he realized he might not be staying, he might be transferred to the military sooner than later.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got more plans for Mother and Father. They think they can decide how I live my life, but they’re wrong,” Alexi said with a grin.

  Becca patted her back pocket again to make sure her new passport was still safe. At this point, she couldn’t relax about losing it until she was on the plane back home. She’d collected the cash that Dylan wired. Funny how having a passport and cash could wipe away a lot of her worries. Now all she had to do was wait until tomorrow morning when she could board a train for Nuremberg. She had a full, empty day ahead of her.

  She followed the familiar route she and Nikolai took yesterday and came upon the horrible spot where he’d been taken. Was he okay? Was he back home?

  With a heavy heart she turned a corner and caught her breath.

  Before her stood the bridge with all the love locks. Was it only yesterday that they were here together?

  She approached the locks with trepidation, as she feared their lock wouldn’t be there. But, after a quick look, she found it right where they’d secured it, nestled snug against the others. She reached up and touched the lock, willing Nikolai to appear.

  She turned to scan the tourists and passersby. No Nikolai. She sighed. He wasn’t there now and never would be again.

  The next morning, Becca was up and out of the hostel early. She said a silent good-bye to Prague and the memories, both good and bad.