Of Princes and Promises

by Sandhya Menon

  Caterina wanted to laugh at the idea of someone calling her touchy-feely. “Ari’s not your typical school psychologist,” she said instead. “She’s really easy to talk to; you’d like her.” Mia remained stonily silent. Caterina nodded. “Well, the offer stands if you think about it and change your mind.”

  Mia narrowed her eyes. “Why?” she asked. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “Because I think your obsession with me and my life, your obsession with wanting to be seen, comes from a place of pain and fear,” Caterina said, aware that Ms. Rivard, her psychology teacher, would be proud to hear her talking like this. “And that’s different from someone who’s just a bad person.”

  Mia chewed on her bottom lip. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she said finally, in a soft voice that sounded almost nothing like her.

  Was it a manipulation? Caterina didn’t know, and in that moment, it didn’t really matter to her. She smiled and patted her sister’s arm. “You don’t have to say anything. Text me when you’ve had some time to think.” She paused. “You’ll be sticking around, right?”

  “Yeah. I think I will. For a little while, anyway.” She took a breath. “Don’t bother trying to track Oliver down. He’s gone.”

  Caterina frowned and felt Rahul shift beside her. “Gone?”

  “Yeah, he left his shop behind and just took off. When I told him I was bringing you to my apartment to tell you the truth about who I was and what I’d done, he said things had gone far enough, that he didn’t want to get in trouble with you or your father. I’m sure he’ll land on his feet wherever he washes up, though. It’s not the first time he’s had to reinvent himself.”

  “Really,” Caterina mused, though she supposed none of this was surprising. Oliver had always seemed to be made of shadows and mist, in a way. The man who could procure anything, for a price. She turned to go, the others turning with her.

  When her hand was on the doorknob, Mia said, “Wait.” Caterina turned to see her holding out the gold bracelet in the palm of her hand. “This is yours. You should take it.”

  Caterina took the bracelet and put it on her wrist. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad something I treasure has come back to me.” Then she slipped out of the apartment with her friends, leaving her sister standing alone, watching her go.

  CHAPTER 24

  CATERINA

  Outside, the group huddled together at the curb by a big black Range Rover. They were all eyeing her with concern. Even Daphne Elizabeth.

  Rahul stepped closer to her than he already was, searching her face, a furrow between his brows. “Are you okay?”

  “I am.” Caterina looked at him, at his endearingly floppy hair, at those gentle brown eyes behind his glasses. He was Rahul, not RC. How had that happened?

  As if hearing her thoughts, Rahul said, “I want to talk to you.”

  “And I want to talk to you.” Caterina took a breath and fiddled with her gold bracelet. “But I need some time to think.” She had just told Alaric she’d never be with someone like him. Rahul appeared to be himself right now, but when would he become RC again? She’d been the cause of all of that. There was a lot to unpack together and look at, and she knew she needed a good night’s sleep or two before she was ready and clearheaded enough to tackle it all.

  Rahul’s face fell, and she wished she could take him in her arms. “Right. Of course. Take all the time you need.”

  Caterina bowed her head and then turned to the others. “Thank you all for coming out here. It means so much to me.” Her eyes flickered to Daphne Elizabeth, acknowledging the other girl’s presence for the first time in months.

  Daphne Elizabeth looked like she might collapse in a heap. “Um, yeah, no problem. Sure. I’m, ah, glad you’re safe.”

  Pietro stepped up to her and gestured to her SUV, which she saw now was parked in front of the Range Rover. “Ti porto a casa?”

  Caterina took a deep, shuddering breath, filling her lungs with the crisp, clear night air. “Yes. Please take me home.”

  RAHUL

  He sat with his head in his hands, his elbows on his thighs, staring at the maroon-flecked gray carpet in his dorm room. Behind him, his poster wall was back to being its nerdy self. Gone were the tear-outs from GQ and Polished. It was all Make and New In Chess now. His dresser was bare, without RC’s accoutrements of an expensive watch and the pot of Estonian hair gel. Everything was 100 percent Rahul Chopra. RC was gone.

  Rahul’s feet were tapping, tapping, tapping with the restless energy that coursed through his muscles. “She isn’t going to call. This is it.”

  “She will call.” Grey put a giant hand on his upper back. He was sitting beside Rahul as he had been most of the afternoon. They were both pretending to study, but of course, neither of them was really getting much done. It was Sunday afternoon; Leo wouldn’t be discharged from the hospital until tomorrow morning.

  Rahul looked up at him. “It’s been fourteen hours. She isn’t going to call.” He’d told her the night before to take all the time she needed, but he’d secretly been hoping to wake up to a text or a phone call from her. It was past lunchtime now, and she hadn’t called yet.

  Grey looked helplessly at him, his broad shoulders taking up most of the room. “Maybe she just needs a little more time.”

  Rahul shook his head and put it back into his hands. “I fucked up, man. I fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  The clock kept ticking.

  CATERINA

  “Thank you for coming to see me.” Caterina looked from Ava’s closed-off face to Heather’s, her heart pinching at the distrust and suspicion there. “I appreciate it.”

  They were at Hospitalitea, the tea shop where, eons ago, she’d had tea with Mia. Now fading afternoon light filtered in from the windows, warming her worn wooden chair.

  “You ditched us last night,” Heather said, her voice hard and cold. Her hand sat in a fist on the smooth tabletop. A plaid scarf was woven around her neck, a protective covering she refused to take off.

  Ava took a sip of her peppermint tea, her thick, brown curls shining in the sunlight. “Why’d you do that?” Her voice was softer, sadder, than Heather’s.

  Caterina put a hand over her cup of white pear tea, feeling the steam warm her palm. “It’s a long story. But basically, I didn’t know that the message you got was that I was leaving. It was supposed to have been that Pietro would pick you up later that night, whenever you wanted. I had to leave because Rahul and I—” She stopped, realizing how little her friends knew because she’d kept everything from them. Looking at them, she said, “What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry.”

  Ava’s mouth popped open; Heather narrowed her blue eyes. “For?” Heather said. She hadn’t ordered tea, as if she didn’t plan to stay too long.

  Caterina lifted her palm and ran her fingers through the steam that curled above her cup. “For everything.” She met Heather’s eyes and then Ava’s, making sure they knew her words came from her heart. “For how this friendship between the three of us has developed. I’ve always wanted to be on top, and being untouchable came at the expense of being real with you guys. It came at the expense of being a true friend. And now we have this… this twisted relationship where we don’t trust each other and we’re just waiting for one of the others to take advantage of us. I know I’ve had the biggest hand in creating that.”

  Ava swallowed a sip of her tea and set her cup down gently. “Wow. I never thought I’d hear you apologize.”

  “Me either.” Heather laughed a little, disbelievingly. “But… it’s kind of nice.”

  “It is,” Ava agreed, nodding so vigorously that her curls bounced. “But, um, it’s not all on you. We were more than happy to go along with it. Just to get to be a part of your circle.”

  Heather rubbed the back of her neck, her short dirty-blond hair catching the sunlight. “Yeah. Me too. It’s not the best feeling to see how weak I’ve been, but I really just wanted t
o be your friend. And that meant I did a lot of things and took a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”

  Caterina leaned forward and put her hands on theirs. “We can change. It doesn’t have to be like that. We only have a few months left here, at Rosetta Academy, but we can have the kind of friendship now that we should’ve had all along.”

  Ava smiled at her. “I think that would be really cool.”

  Heather gave her a half smile. “Totally agree.”

  Caterina sat back, satisfied, and took a sip of her tea. “So let me tell you everything that’s happened.”

  For the first time, she was completely, totally honest with her girlfriends, vulnerable in a way they’d never seen her. With every word she spoke, Caterina knew she was mending the fabric of their friendship, stitching the three of them together, closer than ever before.

  The Next Evening…

  CATERINA

  “I don’t know, Caterina.” Mia looked in the vanity mirror of the Bugatti and arranged her bun first one way, then another. “Maybe we should’ve given him a heads-up about who I was. And that I was coming.”

  “We talked about this, remember?” Caterina studied her half sister, her gaze calm and steady. “You were the one who said it’d be better this way.”

  Over the past two days, Caterina and Mia had spent many, many, many hours talking. Mia had so much anger pent up in her, but she acknowledged that she’d gotten a little obsessed after the Riviera, and all of the things she’d done probably signaled that she needed to get help and process the things she’d kept bottled inside for so many years. She’d canceled the interview with Roubeeni and had instead visited the school psychologist at Rosetta Academy, who’d spoken with her briefly before referring her to a specialist in town. According to Mia, she felt lighter and freer than she ever had after having just scheduled the appointment.

  It was strange, but Caterina could see a difference in her too, though it was obviously early days yet. It was as if just talking to Caterina honestly had eased some pressure off a highly volatile system. Mia already seemed less combative, more questioning. If not apologetic exactly, then… softer. Gentler. Caterina hoped that, in time, an apology would come. And she sincerely hoped Mia would stick around for a while, at least until graduation. It’d give them the chance to get to know each other before Caterina went off to college and Mia went wherever she would go next.

  They got out of the car and began walking to Hospitalitea, where they were meeting Caterina’s—and Mia’s—father. He’d just returned from a business trip to France, and all Caterina had told him was that she was bringing a friend along. She glanced at Mia, wondering if her father would be able to see what she hadn’t—that LaValle blood ran in Mia’s veins.

  “There he is,” she said as they entered the tea shop, the bell over the door tinkling prettily. Her father, their father, sat in a corner, wearing a cashmere sweater and dark pants, reading something on his phone.

  He looked up just as Caterina closed the distance between them, his face breaking into a smile. “Topolina!” He rose and hugged her to him, squeezing so hard that the breath escaped her lungs. “You’re looking well.”

  “As are you, Papa,” Caterina said, then turned to motion Mia forward. “This is Mia. She’s joining us today.”

  “Ah.” Her father leaned forward to air-kiss Mia and then stepped back, a wisp of uncertainty passing over his features as he studied her stoic face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mia.”

  They took their seats. Caterina was glad the tea shop wasn’t too crowded. There were two couples at tables far away, which was just enough to keep her father from making a scene, but not so much that they couldn’t have a serious conversation.

  Papa smiled and gestured to the two flowered teapots already at the table, on their tea-light heaters. “I hope you don’t mind that I ordered your favorite,” he told Caterina. “White pear. And I also ordered the rose-and-honeysuckle blend. It’s supposed to be good for jet lag, they tell me.”

  “Ah.” Caterina poured herself a cup of white pear and then one for Mia. After she took a bolstering sip, she patted Mia’s knee under the table and said, “So. Papa. There’s something Mia and I need to tell you.”

  Her father looked from her to Mia and then back again, understanding dawning. “Are you a couple? Because you know I have no problem with that, Caterina.”

  Caterina shook her head and said solemnly, “No, we’re not a couple.” She paused. “But we are related.” Mia stiffened beside her.

  The look of understanding was gone from her father’s face. At once, he was on guard. “What do you mean, you’re related?”

  “I’m your daughter.” Mia’s voice was just a fraction higher than its usual pitch, though it didn’t quiver at all. She’d probably role-played this conversation many times over the last two days. “My mother is Ginevra Mazzanti.”

  Caterina was proud of her. She knew the sheer amount of courage it must take to look at someone, especially someone like Donati LaValle, and tell him you were the daughter he abandoned nearly two decades ago.

  Papa’s face turned a startling shade of purple. “That is—that’s absolutely preposterous! How can I be sure this isn’t some scam? Do you know how many phone calls and letters I get every year from so-called relatives, begging for money?”

  “That’s not why I’m here,” Mia said sharply before Caterina could step in. “I don’t want a penny from you.” With slightly trembling fingers, she reached into her purse and pulled out what looked like an old letter. “I thought you might say something like this, which is why I brought proof.” She handed the letter to Papa, who took it in a huff.

  He opened it and read it, his face growing pale. Then he looked up at Mia. “How did you get this?”

  “My mother kept it all these years. She didn’t show me until two years ago, when we saw Caterina at the Riviera and the truth about my father’s identity came spilling out of her, finally.”

  Her father ran a hand across his face, then looked back down at the letter. Finally, he set it down on the table, his face showing a thousand expressions at once. He looked at Mia. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  Caterina felt a pang of disappointment and pain. Disappointment that her father, her Papa, as strong and powerful as he was, couldn’t do the right thing. He couldn’t simply say sorry, couldn’t admit he’d been wrong. And pain for Mia, who still wasn’t getting what she wanted. “Papa.” Caterina had spoken before she was aware she was going to speak. “I think you owe Mia an apology.”

  Mia held up a hand. “Don’t! Don’t make him apologize. I’m not some poor, rejected child who needs something from this man.” She looked at Papa with disgust.

  “What am I apologizing for?” Papa asked, leaning back in his chair.

  Mia turned to him, her eyes flashing. “For deserting me and my mother? For telling her you weren’t ready to have a child, only to have Caterina a year later?”

  “I was married,” Papa hissed. “To Caterina’s mother. I couldn’t just leave her and go shack up with your mother. Do you understand that? It was a mistake, what happened. And I was young and trapped.”

  Mia laughed, the sound bitter. “Oh, so she trapped you, did she?”

  “That is not what I meant! I meant I was in a bad situation—”

  “Stop.” Mia leaned forward. “Don’t say any more. You’re a sorry excuse for a man, always have been. And this has been a mistake.” She scraped her chair back and stood, looking down at Caterina. “Thanks for trying, Caterina. But I knew it wouldn’t work. See you around.” She grabbed the letter off the table and, without a backward glance, she was gone, hitting the door of the tea shop with her palm to open it and striding out onto the sidewalk, her chin held high.

  Caterina turned back to her father. “Why?” she asked softly. “Why couldn’t you apologize? Do you know what hell she’s been through all these years?” She scraped her chair back too and stood. “I’m going after her.” />
  “Caterina.” Her father grabbed her hand and looked pleadingly at her. “I wanted to spend my energy, my focus, on you. And then your mother died and I was left alone to take care of a baby. Coming to America was the best way I knew how to help you.”

  “And no one was helping Mia,” Caterina said.

  “She had her mother.”

  “But she didn’t have you. And for all these years, I did. It’s deeply unfair, Papa. I hope you see that one day. And I hope you do the right thing and show her your true feelings. Being vulnerable isn’t all bad, you know. In fact, it may just open doors in your life you didn’t even know were there. Until then, goodbye.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp and turned to leave.

  “Caterina,” he said when she was a few feet away.

  She turned to look at him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want this to come between us.”

  She looked at her father, at the lines bracketing his mouth, feathering at the corners of his eyes. He’d always been her hero, a man who could do no wrong. But seeing him now, in this new light, Caterina realized something: He was deeply flawed, as human as anyone else. He was capable of making mistakes. But most important of all, she realized she didn’t need to make the same mistakes as him. She was free to live her life by her own doctrines, by her own rules. “It won’t, Papa,” she said quietly. “But I’m not the one you need to make amends to. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go comfort my sister.”

  Caterina turned and walked away, not in anger as Mia had, but in deep sadness. This fracture between Papa and Mia, she knew, was not hers to heal. And yet, perhaps, she could support her sister as Mia made her peace with whatever the future held for her.

  As Caterina walked out into the chilly morning, she tipped her head back and let the sun drench her skin for a moment. Then she called, “Mia!” and began to walk down the sidewalk toward her sister, her hand extended.