by Ember Casey
I lead her around the side of the jet, and I know the moment she sees the view on the other side because I hear her give a quiet gasp.
It is truly a spectacular view. My family’s runway lies toward the back of our extensive property, but from here you can see the entire palace and much of the valley beyond. Montovia might be small, but its beauty is beyond compare. We’re surrounded on all sides by snow-capped mountains—which stand stark against the sky on a clear day like today—and the valley is as lush and green as any in all of Europe. Our capital city spreads out across the landscape below us, its brightly colored roofs gleaming in the sun. You can even see some of its gardens and parks from here.
But all of that only serves as a backdrop to the palace, which rises in glory and beauty on the hill below us.
The palace has long been a source of my family’s pride. Made of pale, sand-colored stone, the walls are nearly blinding in the high, bright sun. Stained glass windows look over the surrounding gardens and the city below. A dozen towers jut against the blue sky, each topped with colorful, fluttering pennants. The tallest tower bears a single flag with our royal arms—a golden shield and our royal scepter upon a field of purple— flying proudly above the entire country. I feel a small twinge of guilt as I look at that beloved royal symbol, but I push the feeling aside and turn back to Elle.
“What do you think?” I ask her. She’s been silent for far too long.
“I…” She looks up at me, then back across the valley. “The photos I’ve seen don’t really do it justice.”
I laugh. “That’s certainly true.” And we haven’t even begun to explore yet. There’s a light in Elle’s eyes now, a wonder that makes hope swell in my chest again.
I was right to bring her here. We’ll make everything right again. And I’ll make her understand what she truly means to me.
While we’ve stood here admiring the view, Matthias has brought one of the solar-powered carts around. My family and our staff use the small carts for easy transportation to and from the more remote areas of our property. They’re far smaller and quieter than cars—though there are a couple of dozen luxury vehicles in the palace’s garage—and much cleaner than horses—though we continue to keep a full stable, at my mother’s insistence. The carts are also perfect for transporting luggage to and from the airstrip.
After our luggage has been loaded, Matthias turns to us. “Are you ready to go to the palace, Your Highness? Doctor Parker?”
“Yes, please,” I say, walking with Elle over to the cart. There’s so much I want to show her.
This time, I remember not to touch her. I let Matthias help her into the cart as I take my place on the other side. Still, my heart aches a little as I fold my hands in my lap. I want to slide my arm around her and pull her against my side. Or at least lace my fingers through hers, connect with her on some physical level as she experiences Montovia for the first time. I bite down on the inside of my cheek as the cart starts moving, determined to show restraint.
As Matthias drives toward the palace, I point out things to Elle—the squash courts, the riding green, the Zen garden inspired by my mother’s visit to Japan many years ago. We pass along the eastern edge of the water gardens on our way around the gymnasium, and we skirt the border of the orchards after passing the greenhouses. Elle seems to be listening intently as I describe everything to her, and I am certain the gleam in her eyes is caused by more than the brightness of the sun. She needs more happiness in her life—more pure, simple pleasure. I might not have been able to protect her against the things that were done to her in her past, but I’m determined to do everything I can for her now.
Even if it is killing me not to touch her.
Her hair looks so beautiful in the sun—this light brings out hints of gold and copper among the darker strands. And her whole face seems to glow. I want to pull her into my arms, kiss her sweet mouth, and run my fingers across her glowing cheeks.
Can’t you see, Elle? Can’t you tell this isn’t normal lust? It’s not her body I want so badly—though I have no complaints about those exquisite curves—it’s her. The pure essence of her that shines through her every movement. Having her here in Montovia with me, sharing all of this, only strengthens the ache in my chest.
By the time we reach the palace, I’m nearly dizzy with self-restraint. Once again, I let Matthias help her out of the cart as I curl and uncurl my fingers, trying to release some of the tension in my body.
Once we get her settled, I think a cold shower will do. I need my mind to be clear when I greet my parents and tell them about Elle. My parents are used to my comings and goings from the palace, but I’ve never brought a guest home before. I hope that if I explain everything to them first, before they hear about it from a member of the staff, we can settle everything diplomatically. I’ll wait to introduce them to Elle until I’m sure they—or, more specifically, my father—will show her the proper respect.
Yes, I think that plan will do nicely.
But the stewards have hardly carried our things through the palace doors when a man comes hurrying down the corridor toward us. My stomach clenches when I recognize him—Stephan, my father’s valet.
“Your Highness,” he says with a bow. “Welcome home. I hope your journey was safe and uneventful.”
I don’t have time for Stephan, not now. I want to get him out of here before he notices Elle.
“Yes, well, I’m very tired,” I say. “Kindly tell my father that I’d be happy to join him and my mother for supper tonight, once I’ve bathed and settled in.”
Stephan straightens out of his bow. “Your Highness, your father wishes to see you now.”
“Then send my apologies. I’m really quite exhausted. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Stephan says, bowing again, “but I’m under strict orders to escort you to him immediately. Your companion, too.” His eyes slide to Elle.
Damn it. How did my father find out about Elle so quickly? And then it hits me—the second room. I’d asked Matthias to ensure that a second room be prepared for Elle. Even if he’d instructed the staff to be discreet in their preparations—as I’m sure he did—those preparations wouldn’t have escaped the notice of Stephan, who no doubt immediately alerted my father. That bastard is as loyal to my father as Matthias is to me.
But I refuse to play this game.
“Kindly tell my father that if he wishes to see me, he can find me in my suite,” I say. “Otherwise, I will see him at supper.”
I turn to go, but Stephan calls after me. “Your Highness, I know it isn’t my place, but I’d obey His Majesty if I were you.”
The nerve of him, speaking to me like that. I spin back around, ready to remind him of his place, but the smug look on his face gives me pause.
“And why,” I say evenly, “should I obey him?”
“Should you refuse to obey His Majesty, I’m under orders to alert the Royal Military that we have an illegal visitor in this country.” He glances over at Elle for emphasis, then looks back at me. “She is to be transported to the border immediately and barred from reentry. Should she find herself within the borders of Montovia ever again, she would be transported to the prison instead.” He raises his chin. “So you see, Your Highness, why I would suggest you go to speak with your father immediately.”
Elle
Leo stiffens in response to the man’s words. I’m not sure who this guy is—he seems to be some version of Matthias. But the way he’s speaking to Leo—I don’t like it, and I can tell Leo doesn’t, either.
I have to nearly bite my tongue not to tell the asshole to fuck the hell off—that Leo said he’d see his father at dinner.
And then he glances at me—says I’m about to be deported. Leo is still standing about three feet in front of me, but I can imagine his reaction.
We should have talked about how this was all going to work—the whole thing has taken me so by surprise that I haven’t thought much about it mysel
f. And then after what happened on the plane… I suppose this whole meeting the family thing was about the last thing on my mind. I still wasn’t entirely sure Leo had really had any intention of introducing me to anyone. Maybe to his sister—from what I’ve read about her, she seems like she would be the most welcoming to an outsider. But his father… I don’t know. I suspect Leo doesn’t really know, either.
I walk to him and slide my hand into his without a word. He startles, flinching away from me as though my touch has burned him somehow. But I don’t let go—he hasn’t touched me since the incident in bed last night, and as much as I don’t want to admit it to anyone—particularly myself—I miss him. I miss having him near me. I miss the almost constant physical contact he’s had with me—kissing my hand, touching my arm, pressing his hand to my back. I’m not sure if he feels the same way at all—especially after the things I said to him last night. I know I hurt him with my overreaction. I know I probably shouldn’t expect him to want to touch me at all after the things I said. But I miss it. I miss him.
He looks down at me as my hand clasps his, his eyes wide with something—it almost looks like surprise. He squeezes my hand the slightest bit.
I look up at him, meeting his gaze finally. It almost seems like he’s silently asking my permission for something, and it takes me a moment to realize that maybe he was waiting for me to tell him it was okay to do something as simple as holding my hand. That perhaps he was respecting me by not touching me all this time. I mean—I know he slept on the floor and everything, but I thought that was more because he was pissed off than because he was trying to give me space.
I’ve underestimated him again. I need to stop doing that.
I nod and squeeze his hand in return. I’m not sure if I’m agreeing to the handholding or to meeting his father, but his lips curl up into the smallest of smiles.
“Very well, Stephan. We’ll see my father together.” He looks down at me again, and I can see something else in his eyes, but I can’t seem to recognize what it is.
The man gives Leo a curt nod before he turns on his heel, walking back down the hallway.
My heart starts to race—I’ve never met the parents of anyone I’ve dated. Ever. And the realization that I’m not just about to meet Leo’s father—I’m about to meet the King of Montovia—is making my heart feel like it’s about to take flight in my chest.
The man—Stephan, I guess—is about fifteen paces ahead of us as we walk down a long corridor into the depths of the palace. And it’s beautiful—tapestries and oil-painted portraits of past royalty line the walls. In any other circumstances, I’d ask to slow down—to be able to look at the artistry up close. But I can barely take any of it in, let alone admire the details of anything.
My voice is little more than a ragged whisper. “Do I curtsey? I don’t know how to curtsey, Leo.” I glance up at him.
His focus remains on the man walking ahead of us. “There’s no need to curtsey to him, Elle. This isn’t a formal visit.”
“Do I have to kiss his ring or something? Bow? What the fuck am I supposed to do—?”
He stops walking and turns to me. He pulls my other hand into his and smiles. “Elle, you don’t have to do anything.”
I glance down the hall—Stephan is stopped about fifteen feet ahead but has now turned to watch us.
I look back up at Leo. My voice is shaking now, still barely a whisper. “I don’t think I can do this.”
His lips curl into another smile, but I can see this one isn’t genuine. I think he might be as nervous as I am—though I don’t really understand why. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Are you telling me that? Or are you telling yourself that?”
He laughs—and I can tell that at least that was genuine. “Probably a bit of both, Elle.” He gazes into my eyes for a moment. “It really is going to be all right. And please don’t curtsey.”
I laugh, too, and it makes me feel a little better, at least for the moment.
Stephan clears his throat loudly—obviously trying to interrupt.
I ignore him and look up at Leo again, the smile falling from my lips. “I’m sorry. For getting us into this.”
He frowns. “You got us into nothing, Elle. As I recall, I invited you here.”
I nod. “Yes, but I think my reaction to what happened last night may have caused this particular—”
“It did nothing of the sort,” he interrupts. “I’ve already told you, I’ll not have you apologizing for anything. Including this.” He gives me the smallest of smiles. “But I have missed holding your hand.”
“Me, too,” I whisper.
Stephan tries to interrupt again—it sounds like he has a small animal trapped in his throat. He lifts his brows and frowns at Leo.
Leo turns back to me. “My father hates to be kept waiting.”
I nod and drop one of his hands so we can walk again.
Hand in hand, we follow Stephan through the long corridor before we turn and make our way down another.
Stephan finally stops in front of two massive wooden doors—the only things on that side of the unadorned wall. He turns to Leo and me, and I swear he lifts his nose in the air slightly. “I will alert His Majesty that you have arrived.”
“Fantastic.” I say the word under my breath—too low for Stephan to hear me at that distance.
But Leo nudges me with his elbow.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
Leo shakes his head, but doesn’t look at me.
Stephan’s lip curls into a small sneer—he also refuses to make any eye contact with me. He opens one of the doors and disappears behind it.
Leo turns to me, pulling my other hand into his again. “Elle, I mean this with the utmost respect possible. And please don’t misinterpret what I’m about to say to you.”
I frown in response.
“Please, please let me do the talking when we are summoned inside. My father can be very…” His voice trails off, and he looks down at the floor for a moment. He finally lifts his gaze to mine. “Please don’t speak to him unless he addresses you by name, Elle. I know it sounds harsh, and I mean absolutely no offense by it. But please, please—”
“I get it. I pop off at the mouth. I swear like a sailor. I’m definitely not girlfriend material—”
He closes his eyes for a moment and frowns. He opens his eyes to look back into mine. “That is not what I am saying at all, Elle. I’m merely trying to tell you that my father can be a very cruel man. Even to his own children. And he has very little patience for commoners—”
Leo doesn’t get to finish his sentence. The double doors open and Stephan motions for us to come in.
Commoners. I suppose that’s what I am. I haven’t even given myself a moment to think about that—that Leo has somehow lowered himself to an unimaginable level by even giving me the time of day. It had somehow escaped me that until now—even if I had thought a bit about the fact that Leo is a prince—I had never felt like less of a person than him. I’ve never felt for a second I was somehow more unworthy of him than I am of anyone else. It isn’t his royal status that put me off before—just his status as a member of the male gender. Maybe I should have given this situation more thought after all.
Leo doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk through the doors. If anything, his clasp is tighter now than it was when I first slipped my hand into his. It’s almost like he’s holding onto me for dear life. Maybe we’re holding onto each other.
We enter the room—I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. It’s…an office. It’s a beautiful office, for sure, but there’s a desk where I suppose a secretary might sit. Maybe Stephan sits there—I have no idea. But it’s just an office with filing cabinets and a computer station. Nothing that your run of the mill high rise office building doesn’t have in mass quantity.
Stephan leads us to another door—it’s made of the same dark wood as the two large doors we went through before. He knocks before opening the door
just far enough to poke his head through. He says something, but I can’t hear what it is.
He finally stands upright and turns back to us, barely bowing his head to Leo before he speaks. “His Majesty will see you now.”
Leo nods, glancing down at me for a moment. He swallows hard and turns back to the door. His hand is still tightly clasping mine and he almost pulls me to the door with him.
I stumble forward—I’m not particularly graceful on a good day, but combined with my extreme nervousness, I’m pretty awkward.
Leo’s father—King Edmund—stands up behind his desk.
This room—I suppose it must be his father’s office—is similar to the one we were just in. Ordinary. I guess most kings probably don’t sit on thrones all day, but I suppose that is the image I had in my head. This room is a little more ornate than the other—the paneling is a bit richer and there is more artwork on the walls—but it’s still an office.
Leo and his father stare at each other—almost like they are daring the other to speak first.
King Edmund lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes. “Leopold…”
Leo frowns but says nothing.
Silence hangs in the air for another long moment—too long a moment. I almost imagine that if the royal life was the cliché way I had always pictured it, the two men would have already drawn their swords and would be dueling or something.
But they just stare at each other.
“Leopold.” The king folds his arms over his chest. “We’ve already discussed this particular predicament when you brought it up to me a month ago.”
Leo says nothing.
A month ago? Leo has been planning this for a month? I’m finding this all a little hard to believe—I know Leo had said he’d been planning it, but I hadn’t really believed him. I hadn’t believed any of this.
“I told you already, Father. I explained I had feelings for her that were more than I have experienced for any woman before.” He glances down at me before turning his gaze back to his father’s. “And now I know I love her.” He nods a few times. “I’ve decided to do as I said I would. As we discussed when we initially spoke. I now intend—”