The Surprise Princess

by Patricia McLinn

  Madame folded her hands on the desk. “Yes.”

  Katie broke the look first. “So who is this cousin?” And why hadn’t she heard of him or her before now?

  “Prince Karl is a cousin of some distance. You are related through the three-times great-grandfather of King Jozef’s mother.”

  “That’s some distance,” she said.

  ****

  C.J. looked up from his desk when his wife walked into his home office and closed the door behind her. Her expression told him immediately that the closed door didn’t mean what he’d hoped it might.

  “Did you know King Jozef has arranged a meeting of Katie and a prince?” she asked him.

  He rubbed his forehead. Unless he’d somehow missed it on ESPN the chances were small he would have. But all he said was, “Where’d you hear that?”

  She came close enough for him to pivot his chair and pull her down to his lap. She kissed the top of his head and added, “April Gareaux. She and Hunter just got to Bariavak.”

  “Then you can stop worrying so much about Katie, because they’ll look out for her until we get there next week.”

  But she showed no sign of worrying less. “They haven’t seen her yet. King Jozef sent Katie out with this prince. C.J., is Brad still determined not to go?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think… Could you do anything about that?”

  “I can’t order the guy to take a trip that’s supposed to be a perk.”

  “Why not?”

  ****

  The Brocade Room was kept dim – couldn’t have it become the Faded Brocade Room, Katie supposed – so her first impression was of how he stood.

  Easy, but ready to move at any second. It caught at something in her chest. It was an athlete’s stance. It made her abruptly and deeply homesick for the players and coaches – she wouldn’t think of him – she’d so often seen stand that way.

  “Hello,” she said as she advanced and he turned toward her. Then she saw he wore jeans. Jeans. Her homesickness nearly knocked her over. Jeans and a t-shirt and — were those cowboy boots? “Oh, excuse me, I was looking for—”

  “Hi, I’m Karl.” He strode forward, grasped her limp hand and pumped it. “You must be Katie.”

  He was as at home in his attire as King Jozef was wearing his crown. And he was genuinely, thoroughly American.

  “You’re Prince Karl?”

  Madame would not approve. But he seemed to, judging by his grin.

  “Yep. I can see what you’re thinking.” She was sure he couldn’t, since there was nothing as coherent as a thought in her head. “I should have my hair slicked back and a pencil-thin mustache, right?”

  Startled, she said, “Why?”

  “Ronald Colman. Douglas Fairbanks. Errol Flynn.”

  “What about them?”

  “They’re my image of what a prince should look like. Although… I’m not so sure Flynn ever played a prince. Pirate, yes. Prince, no. Either way, we agree I’m not anybody’s image of what a prince should look like. Or—”

  “I didn’t—”

  “—sound like. Yep. I’m an American. Born in Wyoming.”

  “Wyoming? But how… Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

  “Sure it is, since King Jozef is hoping we’ll hit it off and get married.”

  “Married? No. Oh, no. He doesn’t—”

  “Sure he does. But don’t worry, I won’t knuckle under unless we decide it suits us. So, you want to hear the Ballad of Prince Karl, a cowboy from Wyoming and a prince of someplace you never heard of?”

  Her head spun. But she got out the one word necessary. “Yes.”

  “Good. I’ll grab my hat and we’ll get out of here.”

  “You have a cowboy ha— Oh, wait. We’re supposed to have lunch—”

  “Got that taken care of. Let’s go.”

  ****

  “This is … spectacular. How did you know this was here?”

  They were at a pull-off on the road that seemed to rise like a curl of smoke clinging to the mountainside above the castle.

  They hadn’t talked much on the way up. She hadn’t wanted to distract him from driving. Though he seemed totally at ease on the hairpin turns that included nothing but air for an outside shoulder.

  From here the horizon presented a jagged edge of magnificence, standing stoically even as distance eroded the peaks from sight. Nearer mountains jutted skyward, the valleys sinking toward the center of the earth beneath wreaths of mist.“Got talking to a guy in the hotel. Turned out we’d been a few places in common. He lined me up with the truck, too. You should see the cracker boxes the rental places tried to pass off as a pickup.”

  She laughed. “You really are from Wyoming, aren’t you?”

  He looked across the seat as they both exited the truck, apparently genuinely surprised anyone would doubt what he said. “Yes, ma’am. And I’ve been longing for a good hamburger and some French fries. My friend at the hotel lined us up with that, too. And this hot box.”

  He started pulling things from a storage container in the bed of the pickup as he talked. Soon, she bit into a burger.

  “Mmmm.”

  “Good, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Almost as good as …”

  He looked up. “Almost as good as?”

  “A place in Chicago. Supposed to have the best burgers in the city.”

  “That’s saying something. I’ve had some fine burgers there.”

  “You spent time in Chicago?”

  “Enough to try a few burger spots.”

  “I’m betting you make time to do that anywhere you go.”

  “Well, now I know they were right when they said Princess Katie’s smart as a whip.”

  It was good to be called Katie, even with the Princess before it. But how would he know— “Who said that?”

  “Hunter Pierce and his wife.”

  “You know Hunter and April?”

  “How do you think I got talked into coming here?” He didn’t sound entirely happy.

  He was shorter than Brad and broader – more a football player’s build than basketball. When sun showed between puffy clouds, she realized his hair wasn’t just darker than Brad’s blond, but had a fair amount of red to it. He couldn’t be called handsome as Brad certainly could be. Though the broad, strong bones of his cheeks, forehead, and jaw were very attractive.

  “Not that I can hold April accountable. Hunter was the one. You know they’ll be at dinner tonight?”

  She stopped with a fry poised before her mouth. “No. I didn’t. That’s wonderful.”

  “I suspect it’s to make sure I don’t go AWOL.”

  “Is that likely?”

  “Possible.”

  For the first time, she sensed he’d closed a door.

  She turned to the view, giving him privacy behind that door. From this vantage, the capital city’s setting resembled a flattened bowl with a spout at one end where the Bariavak River exited to the west.

  “Different from Wisconsin, isn’t it?” he said.

  “I like Wisconsin. I like Ashton. I like the university. I like my job. I’m so tired of people congratulating me on escaping my little-town life. I like little.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to step on your tail. I like little, too.”

  “Sorry.” He wasn’t the person she was arguing with. And in fairness, King Jozef hadn’t said those things. He’d simply assumed she shared his viewpoint. She changed the subject. “I don’t understand why the builders who started the palace – castle —” He shot her a look. “—a thousand years ago didn’t claim the flatter ground where the city is. It must have been so much easier to build there, especially back then.”

  “Easier to build, hell of a lot harder to defend.” He was surveying the scene below them with concentration. Then his expression eased toward a grin. “Can’t imagine our ancestors wasted any concern about the difficulty of building. They weren’t the ones toting materiel. They commanded, an
d it was constructed.”

  “Our ancestors,” she repeated.

  “Should have said yours. Mine apparently were flatlanders.” He gestured toward the other side of the mountains. “Before we get to that, do you know the difference between a castle and a palace?”

  “No. I just know I keep calling this a palace, because I could swear Hunter mentioned one at the very start.” She stopped abruptly.

  “Probably when he talked about you being kidnapped as a baby from the palace,” he supplied. “That’s right. You were. And the woman who took you worked there.”

  He pointed to a large building not far from the university. “That’s the palace. Right in the center of town. Made it real easy for the rebels. From what I’ve read about the rebellion, Hunter’s father wanted the royal family to move up the mountain to the castle or even farther away. King Jozef wouldn’t hear of it. Afterward, he moved the permanent royal household to Castle Bariavak. Gave the palace to the city to use as a hospital.”

  She stared down at the building, so peaceful looking now. The distance from the castle wasn’t far measured in miles, but what a difference it had meant in King Jozef’s life … and hers.

  If she’d been raised here as the heir to the throne… But she hadn’t been.

  “…so the quick difference,” Karl was saying,” “between a palace and a castle is that a palace is built for high living, lots of show, and a castle is built for protection, as a fortress.”

  “Thank you, Karl. I think I’ll keep it straight now. Madame won’t have to correct me anymore.”

  “Don’t suppose she wanted to bring it up, seeing what happened there. She’s far more tactful than I am.”

  That lured a smile from Katie. “Madame? Tactful?”

  “More than me, I said. And I’ll prove it right now by saying I want to hear about you coming here.”

  “Oh, it’s a long story—”

  “I know the official story. But since you like your life in Wisconsin why’d you come?”

  Odd. No one had asked her that. Everyone had assumed there’d been no decision to make about coming to Bariavak. But there had been. A lot of decisions, in fact. A whole series of them.

  “I wanted to know,” she said. “I wanted to know me.”

  Karl nodded as if that made sense.

  ****

  “So you went straight from the honeymoon into a diplomatic maelstrom? Is this a hint of things to come for your married life with Hunter?”

  Leslie’s light dryness came through as clearly as the raised brow April saw onscreen. She had placed the video call from a castle guest suite.

  “This is a delicate time and no one is better than Hunter—”

  Leslie chuckled. “Smooth down your feathers. I wasn’t criticizing Hunter. Just checking on my chick.”

  April joined the chuckle, recognizing her overreaction. “I wanted to come. Your chick is fine. Better than fine.”

  “Ahh. So that means the honeymoon bedroom has been well used and—”

  “I am not talking to you about our honeymoon or our bedroom. I know you’re a cousin but you’re too much like my mom to want to discuss that. Go talk with Tris and Bette.”

  “About you and Hunter in the bedroom?”

  “Leslie.”

  “All right, all right. I guess since you didn’t say anything about someone listening in or my comments ruining Hunter’s career it’s safe to talk.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “What’s worrying you? If it’s not Hunter—”

  “It’s not. I mean there’s nothing worrying me…” Leslie’s disbelieving stare made April think advancements in technology were not always good. Without video she might have gotten away with that. A letter would have been even better.

  “How’s Katie?”

  “I haven’t seen her yet. She’s out with Prince Karl. I told you about him.”

  “Right. So this is King Jozef’s effort at matchmaking?”

  “I guess.” She chewed on her lip. “It’s so … heavy-handed. I had this feeling, and I talked to Carolyn – the professor who’s married to Ashton’s basketball coach, they’re Katie’s great friends. Anyway, when I talked to her, I’m afraid she picked up some of my concern. And that was even before we had lunch — Hunter and me and King Jozef and Madame.”

  “What happened at lunch?”

  “I’ve never heard King Jozef happier.”

  Leslie made a sound.

  “I know, I know,” April said. “I should be happy he’s happy. And I am, but … He was full of how he’s going to direct Katie’s life and courtship and her reign over Bariavak – he’s got it all mapped out. The more he talked, the more stoic Madame became and when I tried to ask what Katie thought, he brushed it aside.” “Ahh.”

  “I don’t understand it. It’s like he’s smothering her and he doesn’t seem to be aware of it. He was nothing like that with me.”

  “You’re not the granddaughter he feared was dead for many years. Or the heir to his throne.”

  “No. But … Oh, Leslie, if he keeps on like this, I can’t imagine Katie accepting it. And it will break his heart – and hers. I’m so afraid he’s going to lose her again. And this time it would be his own doing. I don’t know what to say to him.”

  “Honey, you might not be able to say anything. As much as you care about him, he is a king, and that might be what comes first.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  While Karl fueled her with chocolate chip cookies, Katie poured out her disjointed thoughts and feelings about her upbringing, about Anna and Bob Davis, about how the magazine article on April and King Jozef had led to the items in the attic, about her talks with Hunter and April, Carolyn and C.J.

  Everything except Brad. And certainly nothing about the wedding at the Ashton Courthouse.

  When she told Karl about calling King Jozef to say she would come to Bariavak for an unspecified time, she talked about her grandfather’s joy. She didn’t mention she had just left Brad’s bed.

  Still, for the first time, she shared the emotional and sensory overload of these past weeks — an unknown language, vertical landscape, staring eyes trying not to stare, people she’d never known having expectations of who she was.

  She’d been so careful talking to her friends at home, not wanting them to worry. In her one conversation with April, she been even more careful – the woman had finished her honeymoon for heaven’s sake.

  Finally, she wound down to “I can’t believe I’ve told you all this. We just met.”

  “Maybe that explains it. Besides, we’re related.”

  She smiled. “Of course. I’m sure you won’t tell—”

  “No,” he interrupted her firmly. “I won’t, Cousin.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. Then she rallied. “Okay, cowboy. Time for the Ballad of Prince Karl.”

  He grinned ruefully. “I did promise that, didn’t I? Okay, here goes. Better get comfortable.” He handed her another chocolate chip cookie.

  “First, tell me – are you a soldier?”

  He raised one eyebrow – the way King Jozef and she could do. “How’d you come to that?”

  “AWOL, materiel, terrain being easier to defend, and … something. We are related after all.”

  “Yeah. I was a soldier. But that has nothing to do with the Ballad of Prince Karl. So there’s this place next to Bariavak called Gelicia.” He bit into his cookie. “It doesn’t have mountains around it like Bariavak, which means the land’s better, but the defenses aren’t. And it sits where a bunch of countries past and present come together, so it’s been claimed, won, lost, given away, and transferred by treaty enough times to give anybody a headache. For about five minutes in the 1800s it was independent and somebody had the bright idea to put this guy named Grunnard on the throne. That was Grunnard the first, last, and everything.

  “When he died, his two older sons started fighting over the throne. It got nasty. One was killed and his family fled the country.” />
  “Your ancestors?”

  “Nope. So that left Felix as king. Only the fighting had weakened the already flimsy army, and the next country that came sweeping through knocked him right off the throne and abolished the Royal House of Grunnard.”

  “And his descendants moved to Wyoming.”

  “Nope. You’re jumping ahead, Princess Katie. Got to learn to let a story unfold in its own time.” She chuckled, but he didn’t seem to hear. “Felix didn’t have any descendants. His dead brother did, though, and that line led on down to a guy named Prince Stefan Carlos, who was maybe ten years older than me.”

  “He’s another possible candidate as heir, right? So he’s your cousin?”

  “Cousin by a thread. And, yeah, he was a candidate,” he said sourly. “But now we go back to Grunnard, because he had a third son. Youngest of the ones that survived childhood – I’m telling you, I saw that family tree and not many reached that point. Anyway, this son was a real rebel. Always in trouble. But the icing on the cake was when he’d tried to overthrow Grunnard.”

  “He tried to kill his own father to become king himself?”

  He grinned. “Nah. Tried to push Grunnard off the throne and make the country a republic. When he failed, Grunnard banished him. He first came here to Bariavak, stayed with a prince who’d known him from childhood. But, strange as it might seem, his king-dumping ways made the king here nervous, so he shooed him out. That’s when the third son changed his name and moved to the United States, ending up in Wyoming Territory. Got married, had kids. They got married, had kids. And so on, until you come to me, the oldest son of the oldest son, of the oldest son, right on back to that third son.”

  “What an amazing heritage.”

  “I never knew about it. There was some family story that old Harvey – that’s the name the third son picked — had a title back in Europe, but to tell the truth, his credibility wasn’t the best. I suspect everyone thought it was a tall tale.

  “And, hell, even if we had known about his title, the place doesn’t exist anymore as a separate country. So who’d think it mattered? And then this distant cousin I’d never met, never heard of gets himself killed and—bam my life gets turned upside down. You know how that is.”