Sovalon Royals: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  “Okay, then,” he said. “Grab your jacket, and we’ll head over to the shop. I’ll send a truck ahead of us for transporting material.”

  “Oh, it’s not at Wicke,” she said, her face turning pink. She looked suddenly shy. “I have a private storage locker a block over from the shop.”

  “Makes sense,” he said. “The storeroom at Wicke is already packed. I’m sure you need a place for spillover.”

  “It’s…not for the business,” she said and met his eyes carefully, like she was about to divulge a secret.

  Edward’s interest was piqued.

  “It’s a hope chest, of sorts,” Clem told Edward. “A hope chest on steroids, I guess.” She gazed around the small room that was filled and somewhat cluttered with relics she’d gathered throughout her career—things she could never bear to part with.

  It was altogether weird to have him here, to have anyone here, in her private storage locker where she kept all of the pieces that were most dear to her. Sunlight glimmered in, turning flecks of dust into glitter. She watched as golden fragments fell over her precious collection.

  “I like to imagine that someday these treasures will be on display in my own home,” she said. It felt strangely natural to reveal herself to him in this way. His warm eyes were so attentive. She felt that she could trust him with this part of herself.

  “This is amazing, Clem,” Edward said. “Thank you for sharing it with me.” He picked up a chipped teapot and eyed it closely. Could he appreciate the detail in the hand-painted design? Clem couldn’t be sure.

  “That teapot was the first thing I kept. I was mesmerized by the detail of the porcelain and the artwork. Look at all the tiny flowers,” she said, and he did as he was told.

  “I love how the spout is a rosebud,” he said and looked up at her.

  “I do too!” she said. Maybe he did get it after all. “Anyway, I decided to keep one thing and then another, and the collection just sort of spiraled into this.” She gazed around the room then allowed her eyes to pause inside of his.

  “You’re the only person I’ve ever shared this with,” she told him.

  He took her hand and squeezed it.

  “I’m honored,” he said, and she believed him.

  Dizzy with desire, Clem felt herself collapsing under the weight of her attraction to Edward. She knew she had to break the mood before she ended up wrapped up in his arms again.

  “Look,” she said, pointing to a piece at the far end of the room. “This is the material I was telling you about. I think it will work to fix the mantle.”

  “If you think it’ll work, then it will,” he said, and her confidence grew at his words.

  They drove back to the castle, where she gave directions to the workers to piece the newer material through the broken places in the antique mantle.

  Old spliced with new.

  Late that evening, Clem stood in the doorway to the dining hall, out of sight but keeping an eye on the reconstruction work. She was amazed at how perfectly the materials came together to make something altogether unique. And quite beautiful.

  “Satisfied?”

  She turned to see Edward standing just behind her in the deserted corridor, and she smiled at him.

  “It looks lovely.” Her eyes moved to the mantle, and his followed suit. His body was just inches from hers as he looked over her shoulder. “What do you think?”

  “Everything you do is lovely,” he said, and she turned to him. His eyes were hungry as he placed a warm hand on her bare shoulder.

  Heat seized her senses, drowning out her care for propriety. A longing pulsed deep in her core as she leaned into this man with whom she had so little in common.

  His lips crushed hers, his fingers found their way into her hair. She ignored the warning signals that sounded in her brain and let herself be swept into the moment. His tongue flicked against her lips, and Clem’s toes curled.

  Edward drew her body close, and she melted into him until there was no empty space between them. When he pulled his face back and looked at her with hooded eyes, she felt a fire on her lips, a need for him to put it out with kisses.

  “Clem,” he said, his voice raspy with desire. “We’re good together.”

  She raised her eyebrows at this strange comment. It reminded her of how different they were. How could two opposites be good together?

  An image of the new and improved mantle crossed her mind, its artistry made perfect by the contrast of its materials. Old and new. Opposites—but beautifully compatible.

  Instead of replying to Edward, she leaned into him for another kiss.

  Maybe this prince knew something she didn’t. Time would tell. But for the next few minutes, she didn’t want to worry about it. In the near-dark corridor where no one could see them or judge them for breaking the rules, she let herself smolder under his lips.

  For a moment that lasted as long as a kiss, neither past nor future mattered but only now. And only him.

  7

  The road ahead rose and fell, winding around the rolling hills that Edward was proud to call a part of his family’s great kingdom. He was usually in the capital and rarely got the chance to take excursions into the Sovalon countryside but when his brother Marcus called that morning, inviting him to look at an old mill that he said was “ideal for redevelopment,” Edward was glad for a day away from the castle. With Clem managing things, work was getting done on time. She was still insistent on doing things her own way, which made him nervous, but it looked like they were on schedule and closing in on a grand finish. It wouldn’t be much longer now until the castle was finished. This was the perfect time to find another project. Maybe this time it would be something more his speed—a condo community.

  Today was Lance’s day off, and Edward was glad for the opportunity to drive his own car and be alone with Clem for a change.

  “Thanks for agreeing to let me tag along,” she said.

  “Sure.” He eased into the brake as they approached a large curve in the road. “You like old mills?” he asked.

  “When I was getting my master’s in architecture, I did a big project on the aesthetic value of old mills in modern society.”

  Edward groaned inwardly. “Of course you did.”

  Clem laughed. “Don’t sound so excited,” she said.

  “Just remember, Clem, we’re not here on a restoration mission. This is a redevelopment opportunity.”

  “Whatever you say, Edward.”

  He snuck a glance at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed a half-smile on her lips. As usual, she was dressed casually in jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt that hugged her curves. He was reminded of the way those curves slid perfectly against his body a few days ago when they’d shared a secret kiss. Since then, she’d been acting as if everything was business as usual. Did she regret kissing him? Had it meant anything to her?

  He pushed his worries over Clem’s feelings to the side as he turned down a gravel road toward the mill. Stretched out on either side of the car was unending meadow, dotted with purple and yellow wildflowers. Ahead, the mill rose into view, a red oasis in a sea of green.

  “Wow.” Clem’s face lit up as she exited the car. “This place is just about perfect.”

  “Perfect for redevelopment!” Marcus said, as he approached Clem and Edward. He shook his older brother’s hand and introduced himself to Clem. “I’m the younger, more exciting brother.” He flashed a bright white smile.

  “Is this place a gold mine or what?” Marcus said to Edward. “Clean, rich land; a pond. Residents love a pond, right?”

  Edward laughed. Condo communities that were located near water features did have a certain charm.

  “It’s great, Marcus.” Edward admired his brother’s motivation.

  “So,” Marcus said, pointing toward the mill itself, “three adjacent buildings, all overlooking the water. If we could somehow preserve the water wheel, it would make for a nice architectural touch, but if not, that’s okay.”
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  Edward grinned proudly as his brother walked around the site, enthusiastically spouting off ideas, but when he noticed Clem closely inspecting something on the porch of the mill, his attention snagged. She ran her finger along the frowsy wood then leaned in to smell it, a serene look on her face.

  “Is your general contractor smelling the mill?” Marcus asked, his eyebrows raised.

  Edward chuckled. “She gets excited over old stuff.”

  “Ah.” Marcus nodded. “Well, I’m excited too. Excited to transform this place.”

  Clem approached them.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” she said.

  “Sure is,” Marcus replied. “Pastoral beauty and serenity—a draw for residents, right?”

  Clem faced Marcus with challenging eyes. “It could also be a draw for historians,” she said. “The mill would make a great museum. It really provides insight into an old way of life and how people used water power.”

  Edward almost laughed out loud at the blank stare on his brother’s face. He had grown quite used to Clementine’s unique way of seeing things, but he knew it could be jarring. Usually, he felt honor-bound to push back against her, countering her nostalgia with practicality. Yet something about the day and the place had him seeing things—just a little—from her point of view. He couldn’t help but be charmed by the way the water trickled gracefully over the old wooden wheel. The structure of the building seemed to have been preserved by nature alone; the wooden frame was in great condition. He could imagine himself sitting on the front porch with a cup of tea, collecting his thoughts. There was such serenity here.

  “This place is really beautiful,” he admitted. “It is a shame to have to tear it down.”

  “But progress is progress, brother,” Marcus said and shrugged. “I have to get back to the office. I have a meeting at three. Call me later, and we can discuss plans for this place, alright?”

  Edward nodded and watched his brother drive away. When he turned to Clem, her eyes were stormy. He fortified himself for the hurricane he knew was about to make landfall.

  “How can you justify tearing down this mill to turn it into condos?” Clem was pacing, her voice high-pitched and breathy. Although she’d known they were coming here to inspect a demolition site, she wasn’t prepared to find such beauty. Now that she’d seen the mill with her own eyes, she realized it was a travesty to tear it down. Clem knew she sounded emotional but didn’t care. “Look around you, Edward! The interior is fully intact. The water wheel is still functional. Have you no respect for architectural treasures that have been here for centuries?”

  “Clem,” he said, his hands in his pockets, “I don’t disagree that this place is gorgeous, but a mill just doesn’t have a purpose anymore.”

  She threw her hands in the air. This man was going to see her side of things. She would make sure of it.

  “But it could have purpose!” she argued.

  He sighed and gave the tiniest eye roll, which pissed her off. He was going to humor her. She’d give him something to think about then.

  “The mill could be repurposed, as I said before as a museum,” she said and beckoned him to follow her up the porch and into the abandoned building. “This room could be a gift shop and café.”

  “We’d have to install a kitchen for a café,” he said.

  “Not a hard task, Edward, and you know it.” The two of them were working together on much more difficult projects at the castle. She walked toward the window overlooking the water wheel, knowing he would follow her. The walls were gorgeous raw wood—pine—and matched the floors. All original and breath-taking. “We could turn this place into a museum. People would come here to visit. There’s history here.”

  She watched his eyes wander over the pearl that they’d discovered. He wasn’t convinced, she could tell, but she had his attention. She edged closer to him, trying to ignore the heat from his body and focus on convincing him to see what she saw. She took his hand into hers.

  “Don’t you want to preserve the beauty of your country, Edward?” Clem ran her thumb over his fist, using touch as a way to seal into his senses just how passionate she was about this old mill. “Don’t you want your children to be able to experience parts of Sovalon as they always were? This place tells a story. That water wheel was once used to generate hydropower for the grain mill. Before we had modern technology, we used this.”

  “You’re right,” he said finally. “There’s something special about this place.” He faced her. “People want to know how things were done in the past. This old mill is a perfect example.”

  Yes! She’d done it. She’d made him see sense.

  “I’ll talk to my brother. Maybe we can brainstorm some ideas together,” he said. His eyes dug into hers then. “Maybe you can join in on the meeting of the minds.”

  “I’d love nothing more,” she said, silently rejoicing that Edward had listened and heard her, that he’d opened his eyes to see the loveliness that was right in front of him. Clementine squeezed Edward’s hand affectionately. “I’ll help you modernize some of the aspects of this old place too, make it more functional for visitors, make sure everything is accessible for people with disabilities. We want to hold the past dear but also embrace the comforts of the future, right?”

  Edward smiled at her. “Right.”

  As they stood back and stared at the grounds of the old mill, Clementine thought to herself that perhaps she and Edward weren’t so different after all. Perhaps they could find spaces in which they saw the world in the same way. Hope fluttered in her chest at the thought of standing next to him in those very spaces, overcoming their differences together.

  Now, this was progress.

  8

  Early the next morning, Edward placed a call to his aides, James and Luther.

  “Call a press conference,” he told them. “I have some information to share about the Old Jameson Mill on Route 67 at noon.”

  He then texted Lance to be ready to leave by nine.

  On the drive to the mill, Edward straightened his tie as he silently thought over his speech for the press conference. His ears were ringing as he prepared himself for the ballsiest move he’d ever taken in his career, a move he was sure would garner reproach as well as surprise from his father. Again, his hand twitched to call his father and let him know…but no, it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.

  “Are ya alright back there, sir?” Lance asked. Lance had been his driver for five years. Edward knew the man could read him easily.

  “Fine, Lance, just imagining my father’s reaction to this announcement, that’s all.” Edward sighed. Every decision he’d made in his career, he’d made with the hope of winning his father’s approval. Today, he would make the first move of his own volition, and he felt sure it was the last thing his father would have expected of him. But despite his modern tastes, he truly appreciated the beauty of the mill and believed converting it into a B&B would result in a great addition to Sovalon’s tourist destinations.

  “I’ve decided to restore the old mill and turn it into a bed-and-breakfast,” he told Lance.

  “Ah,” the driver replied. A long pause followed. “It’s a beautiful place, the Jameson Mill.”

  “It is.”

  “And your lady contractor approves of this decision?” Lance released a chuckle.

  “It’s not Clem I’m worried about.” This was the most rebellious move Edward had ever made.

  “Ah, the king will come around,” Lance said. “Just get through today.”

  Lance’s wise words replayed in Edward’s head as he stepped into the sunshine on the porch at the lovely Jameson Mill. The scent of lavender hung in the air, and the sky was a brilliant blue. In front of him was a sea of reporters, along with some people he recognized as protesters from the castle. His father stood up front, arms crossed over his chest, a stern look on his wrinkled face. Edward avoided his eyes.

  One person stood out from the rest. Clem Wicke stood in the mi
ddle of the crowd, beaming up at him, her blue eyes full of warmth that flooded him with confidence. A feeling of peace came over him, which was unusual. He typically loathed public speaking. But today, with a message he fully believed in, he felt ready and sure of his ability to deliver.

  “Hello and thanks for coming,” he began. Clem winked at him from the audience, and he smiled inwardly. “I’ve gathered you here today to announce my plans for the Jameson Mill.

  “When Prince Marcus presented this site for demolition and redevelopment, I imagined sleek condominiums overlooking the water, modern housing at its best. But when I stood back and really took a moment to look at the grounds, the building, the atmosphere here, I realized that this old mill is already a treasure. The working water wheel itself is a wonder and a reminder of what life was like in a different time.”

  Marcus shook his head and looked up at their father, but Edward ignored him and continued.

  “I’ve decided to repurpose this structure and its grounds.” He held his head high and focused on Clem. “While taking great care to preserve its historical wealth, my team will turn this mill into a beautiful tourist destination with a museum. I believe that the natural beauty of this place deserves to be protected and appreciated.”

  A reporter near the back of the crowd raised his hand.

  “When will restoration begin, and how much time is slated for the project?” he asked.

  “We’re still in preliminary stages of planning, so I can’t answer that question,” Edward replied. “But we’ll make everything known to the public as soon as decisions are made.”

  Another hand went up.

  “With all due respect, restoring historical sites hasn’t exactly been your priority, Prince Edward. What is it about this old mill that changed your mind?”

  Edward’s eyes danced over Clem’s then quickly met the reporter’s.

  “I guess I had a change of heart,” he replied. “Any other questions can be addressed to my aides. Thank you all for coming.”