Of Princes and Promises

by Sandhya Menon

  “Certainly.” Oliver studied her face, as if searching for clues about this new task. “Is this person giving you trouble, Caterina?”

  “Oh no, nothing of the sort.” Caterina considered how to phrase her next thought. “If anything, it’s the opposite. I quite like her, but I need to be comfortable before I let her into my circle.”

  A look of understanding bloomed across Oliver’s face. “Ah, I see. Well, if you follow me to the back, I can take down some details.”

  “Excellent.” Reaching into her purse, Caterina retrieved a check. “A little to get you started. I’ll have the rest when you find the information.”

  Oliver took the check and bowed in his usual gentlemanly way. “Thank you.”

  They walked together to the back of the shop, into what Oliver referred to as his “sanctum.” It was a surprisingly spacious room, considering the size of the rest of the shop, and filled with aesthetically pleasing statues and one-of-a-kind finds that Oliver didn’t want to sell. Caterina took a seat on a burgundy couch, across from Oliver’s velvet paisley-patterned armchair. Between them was an oblong coffee table made of repurposed mango wood.

  “Tell me who we’re looking for.” Oliver retrieved a large padded notebook with gold-edged pages from his desk before taking a seat in his armchair. His pen was poised at the ready. “You said you knew her name?”

  “Yes. Her name is Mia Mazzanti. I don’t know much about her except that she went to high school in Rome.” Caterina could see him writing from the angle she was at; he spelled everything correctly, thanks probably to his travels. “She’s about nineteen years old and graduated high school last year. Amber eyes, blond hair, though it’s probably been colored. And here’s her cell phone number.”

  Oliver looked up and copied the phone number into his book. “I see. Is there a particular angle I’m looking for that might assist you the most?”

  “I want to know if she has a history of running scams, bribing people, changing her name often, that kind of thing. She said she moved around a lot; is there anything I should be concerned with there? Has she been involved in anything scandalous?”

  Nodding, Oliver jotted down a few more notes in his careful hand. Then, capping his pen, he looked up at her. “Will that be all?”

  Caterina smiled thinly. “That’s all.” She stood.

  He stood too. “Shall I call you when the dossier is ready?”

  “Please. And don’t wait till business hours. I want to know the minute you have something. Oh, and will you charge me for that feather scarf you have in the main room? I think it’ll be perfect with a dress I just bought.”

  Oliver spread his arms. “Certainly, Caterina. Anything you see is yours.”

  Turning, Caterina swept out of the room to find Oliver’s assistant waiting with her coat and gloves. Donning them, she waited while the assistant wrapped up the feather scarf, then stepped out of the shop back into the cold. She felt… optimistic, almost cheerful, for the first time in a long time. It felt like things had finally changed for the better. Above her, the sun shone like a bright penny in the sky.

  She was on her way to her favorite tea shop when the door to the smoothie place opened and Alaric stepped directly into her path. Caterina moved back involuntarily before she caught herself and forced herself to maintain her position. But if she were being completely honest, seeing him like this was still like an anvil to her chest.

  He smiled nonchalantly down at her, dressed impeccably as usual in a black wool peacoat, under which he’d layered a cobalt-blue scarf that brought out the teal tones in his eyes. His hair was high and thick, and his skin glowed with good health and the brisk winter morning. His gloved hands were wrapped around a cup of coffee. “Caterina.” Her name on his lips always sounded like poetry. Caterina steeled her heart against it. “How funny, seeing you here.”

  “It’s not that funny.” She arched an eyebrow. “We both go to the same school, which lies less than a mile that way.” Very deliberately, as if he needed all the help he could get, she pointed up the sloping hill to their right.

  Alaric chuckled and shook his head. “No, I mean it’s funny because I was talking about you in there.” He nodded toward A-caf-demy Bistro to his left, the store he’d just exited. “Lamar was asking about you. Do you remember Lamar?”

  Caterina blinked and looked away at a pair of bicyclists on the road. “Of course I remember Lamar.” A couple of years ago, when she and Alaric had been friends, Lamar, the owner of A-caf-demy Bistro, had predicted they were going to fall in love. They’d laughed at the time and told him not to be silly, but after Caterina had said yes when Alaric did finally ask her out later that year, they’d waltzed into A-caf-demy Bistro, all flushed and giddy, and told him he was right. They’d even bought him a toy crystal ball as a gift.

  “Those were happy times,” Alaric said quietly, as if reading her mind. When she turned to look at him, he was gazing at her with an intensity that made her breath catch.

  Caterina straightened her shoulders. “Where’s Lizel?” she asked, making her voice as cold as ice.

  Alaric looked away and cleared his throat. “In Milan, on a shoot.”

  Smirking, Caterina began to walk around him. “Goodbye, Alaric.”

  “Caterina.”

  She turned, in spite of not wanting to. It was like her body was still attuned to Alaric, to his needs. It was like whatever he wanted to say, she wanted to hear. She hated that.

  “It’s not like it was with us.” His deep voice held a thrum of sincerity. “It’ll never be like that.”

  Tears sprang to Caterina’s eyes and she blinked them away, furious. That was her fear, exactly what he’d verbalized. What if she never found something like that again? What if Alaric had been the peak? What if all that was left for her was an endless valley?

  “I know,” she found herself whispering. Before he could say anything else, Caterina turned and walked quickly away, leaving Alaric looking after her at the empty sidewalk, glittering in the sun.

  RAHUL

  “I should get a hammock for my room also, don’t you think?” Leo was lying in the hammock that Owen, Rahul’s roommate, had erected in the corner of the room but rarely used. Leo and Rahul had come to an uneasy truce after their heated text exchange just a few days ago. Rahul hadn’t felt like apologizing—he hadn’t done anything wrong, and Leo had been jumping to conclusions—and apparently, Leo hadn’t either. Neither of them was prone to passive-aggressiveness, so by mutual non-agreement, they’d moved past it. Things weren’t fully back to normal, though. It was like a broken bone that had healed but still hurt on cold, damp days. But Rahul didn’t know what to do about that—or even if he wanted to do anything about it. “If I got a hammock, Samantha and I could lie in it and look at the stars.” Leo glanced at Rahul. “The glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling.”

  “I got your meaning.” Rahul opened the pot of hair gel on his dresser and frowned. It was as he’d suspected; he was beginning to run a little low. He’d need to be more careful with it until Oliver could get him more. Caterina said it’d be a couple of weeks.

  “I wonder where Owen got this one,” Leo continued.

  Rahul’s cell beeped with a text, and he walked to his bed to check who it was. Everett McCabe, the director’s son he’d met at Evanescence a few days ago. Everett wanted to set up a redo of the poker game at his parents’ Aspen mansion, and Rahul knew RC would definitely want to be there. Grinning, he began to text back. “Or you could just use that one,” he said to Leo, realizing a little belatedly that he hadn’t answered him. “Owen’s never here anyway.”

  “What is this under the pillow?” Leo reached under the small square pillow he was lying on. “It is very poky.”

  “You can say ‘sharp.’ ” Rahul looked up from his cell phone, knowing Leo appreciated help with his English. “According to Merriam-Webster, ‘poky’ doesn’t mean ‘sharp.’ ”

  Leo cocked his head. “ ‘You do the Hokey Pokey an
d you turn yourself around.’ Didn’t anyone tell you?” He held up an unopened bag of almonds and a magazine that had apparently been wedged under the pillow. “Ahh!” He tossed the almonds to the ground. “Someone is trying to assassinate me.”

  Rahul looked over again at the offending almonds. “The package is made of hermetically sealed plastic. You’re probably safe.”

  “My allergy of tree nuts is severe enough that I do not want to take that chance, mon ami.” He turned his attention to the magazine still in his hand. “Is this Owen’s? He doesn’t seem like the GQ type to me.”

  Setting his phone down on his bed, Rahul hopped up and snatched the magazine away, setting it safely away from Leo’s grasp on his desk. “No. That’s, um, mine, actually.”

  Leo shot upright, as if someone had rammed a vial of caffeine into his veins. The hammock bounced exuberantly, as if caught up in the moment too. “Yours?”

  “You don’t need to shout.” Rahul pushed his glasses up on his nose. He attempted to roll his eyes, but that was something he could only pull off as RC. It kind of hurt his head and felt weird when he did it as Rahul.

  Leo squinted at him. “Is there a mote of dust in your eye? Would you like some saline solution?”

  “No, I just—never mind.” Blinking, Rahul sat back down on his bed again. “You don’t have to sound so surprised. Why can’t I read GQ?”

  “Well, you can,” Leo allowed. “You have just never expressed an interest in it before.” He paused, appearing to think. When he spoke again, it was with hesitation, as if he were afraid Rahul might be offended. “I have seen you talking to Caterina.… Is this why you’re reading GQ? And why you have no more new issues of Make and New In Chess?” Without waiting for a response, he continued. “You do not have to change who you are to get the girl, Rahul. She will like you more if you are… how do you say…” He snapped his fingers and the hammock swayed a bit. “Authentic.”

  Ha. If only he knew. “Right. Because that was working so well for me.” Rahul shook his head and adjusted his glasses again. Ever since he’d begun wearing contacts as RC, his glasses felt cumbersome to him, pinching the bridge of his nose and behind his ears, giving him headaches with how heavy they were. How had he never noticed before? “Someone like me doesn’t belong in her circle, Leo.”

  Leo played with the netting of the hammock, not looking at Rahul. “But you danced with her at the winter formal.…”

  “Yeah, and then she pretended like that didn’t happen and didn’t speak to me for weeks and weeks. And when she did, she told me it was just a dance.” Rahul paused, wondering how much to say. He definitely couldn’t come clean about RC. He’d promised Caterina that the press (and Alaric) wouldn’t get wind of who RC really was. But maybe there were certain things he could say. Because, let’s face it, he needed some serious advice after what had happened the night of the underground club. “Whereas recently, after I’ve begun to change some of my interests, she, ah… we kissed.” He hugged a pillow to his chest, feeling ridiculous saying that. It was like saying, I won the $400-million Powerball lottery. Or, A lovely family of voles has taken up residence in my chest hair. It felt completely fantastical and patently untrue. And yet. It had happened.

  Leo jumped out of the hammock in a feat of athleticism Rahul had never seen before except on TV. “You are not serious!” he yelled, rushing forward and taking Rahul by the shoulders.

  “I’m extremely serious,” Rahul replied, once his ears had stopped ringing.

  “She kissed you back?”

  Rahul nodded.

  “Was she drunk?”

  Rahul shook his head.

  “Was it a dare?”

  Rahul shook his head again.

  “Dude!” Leo threw his hands up in the air and began walking around in quick circles, as if he couldn’t contain himself. “What about Alaric? Are you and Caterina a couple now?”

  Rahul rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Ah no. We’re definitely not a couple.” Not Rahul and Caterina, anyway. “And I don’t think she’s interested in getting back with Alaric anymore. But I could use your advice.” He looked frankly at Leo. Maybe things weren’t 100 percent back to normal between them, but he could ask Leo for advice, right? Yes, he could. Besides, he didn’t really have any other options. Everett McCabe and the other guys thought RC was a player, and he didn’t want to ruin that illusion. “After we kissed, we sort of got interrupted and then we… we haven’t talked about it since.” They’d talked about other stuff—social outings, Everett, Harper, etc. But not the one thing he really, really wanted to talk about.

  Leo stopped walking and frowned. “She hasn’t talked about it?”

  “No.”

  “And have you talked about it?”

  “No. I’ve just been, like, letting her have her space.”

  Leo was shaking his head emphatically before Rahul was done talking. “Non, non, non. You do not be coy, Rahul. You have to take charge!” He held up a fist.

  Rahul frowned. “Do you know me? Or Caterina? If I ‘take charge,’ she’ll take my testicles. By force.”

  “Hmm.” Leo appeared to consider this. “You might be right. I have heard she has a collection of them in her room.”

  “Yeah.” Rahul looked away, embarrassed once again by his inability to do something as simple as bringing up a kiss that had already happened. It was easy for someone like Leo to tell him to “take charge” and be brave, but that was the whole problem. Rahul wasn’t like Leo. RC might be… but Rahul was afraid to have RC bring it up without any planning. Planning was good. Planning kept tricky social things from going off the rails, like they so frequently did for Rahul.

  Leo continued, unaware of Rahul’s internal dialogue. “You don’t want to bring up the kiss, as you will seem desperate and cloying and as if you have been thinking of nothing else.” Rahul flinched at the words “desperate and cloying,” but Leo didn’t seem to notice. “You want to seem aloof but confident. Like a… a panther.”

  “A panther,” Rahul repeated, thinking it over. Panthers were lithe, confident, even a little arrogant. He could do panther. “Right, okay.”

  “Okay. Let’s see it, then.” Leo crossed his arms.

  “See… what?” Rahul asked, confused.

  “Your panther impersonation. I do not think you can pull this off without a lot of practice.”

  Rahul smirked and set his pillow down before standing. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve changed a lot since school started, believe me. I can do panther. Pretty easily, in fact.”

  Leo didn’t say anything, only spread his hand out in invitation.

  Rahul took a few breaths, imagining himself in RC’s head. It was easier when he was wearing the clothes, the cologne, the contacts. The hair gel. But this would have to do for now. He channeled RC, but more than RC—who was more fox than panther—he tried to channel Grey. What was Grey’s most alpha-male attribute? Probably his walk. It was powerful, confident, masculine. “Okay.” Rahul shook out his hands, rolled his neck a few times. And then he began to walk.

  Leo watched him, his mouth popping open. Rahul tried to hold back a smile as he made sure he used his hips more to convey his pantherlike stature. Leo was obviously not used to this side of him; he was probably wondering where Rahul had disappeared to. If only he could tell him about RC!

  The door opened on Rahul’s second circuit around the room, and Grey walked in, stopping short and eyes widening at the sight of Rahul. Probably equally impressed and dazed at this transformation. “What are you doing?”

  “Being a panther,” Rahul explained. Being you, he thought.

  “I told him the way to impress Caterina was to behave like a panther,” Leo added, looking lost. “And…” He gestured to Rahul, letting Grey take it all in again.

  “I’m powerful,” Rahul said. “And masculine. And alpha. Alpha males all have a certain walk. A certain confidence that immediately draws mates in—”

  “You should probably sto
p smiling like that,” Grey said mildly.

  “Really?” Rahul didn’t stop smiling. “I’m just afraid without it, she’ll be too intimidated to be attracted to me.”

  “I’m just afraid with it, she will run far away from you,” Leo retorted, pushing a hand through his hair as if in exasperation.

  “And maybe drop your hands from your hips too,” Grey added, crossing his arms and leaning against Rahul’s dresser. “You know, maybe have your hands by your sides?”

  Rahul did as he suggested. “Hmm, that does feel more relaxed. But do I still look pantherlike?”

  “You’re definitely reminding me of an animal,” Grey allowed. “Maybe just be yourself? I’m sure Caterina likes what she’s already seen.”

  “They kissed,” Leo explained, one hand on his hip. How come Leo could stand like that and not get called out by Grey? Because the rules are different for them, Rahul thought, feeling a twinge of resentment. They’ll never see my potential. To them, I’m just awkward, ridiculous Rahul.

  Grey’s blue eyes widened, as if this were the most astounding thing he could ever conceive of hearing. “You guys kissed? When?”

  “Saturday. But we haven’t really talked about it since.” Rahul stopped walking and stuck his hands in his pockets, his hair falling limply over his glasses and obscuring half his vision. Suddenly he wanted this conversation to be over. Talking to Leo and Grey was agitating him; there was no comfort in it like there used to be.

  “So the plan is…?”

  “The plan is to get her to bring it up so I don’t seem desperate and cloying. According to Leo.”

  Grey made a “probably a good idea” face. His gaze drifted over to Rahul’s walls. “Hey. What happened to all your chess posters? Like half of them are gone.”

  Rahul felt his cheeks warm as defensiveness settled over him like a mist. Grey, with his height and muscles and naturally brooding nature that attracted girls like Jaya, would never know the feeling of being chronically one step behind everyone else. Of wanting so badly to fit into the world of the one you love but never being able to.