Now Presenting (I'm No Princess Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “Dominic!” came the very forceful, commanding voice.

  Nico froze before dropping me as quickly as he could without letting me fall over. We both turned and saw none other than Dmitri standing inside the door. He didn’t even look at me, he just glared at his brother. But even still, I felt the ice chill my veins.

  Nico spoke to him in clipped Gallyrian while I looked to Nikolai, thinking I was just about sick of people deliberately leaving me out of conversations because they knew I couldn’t understand. As I waited for them to get over whatever tiff they were having now, I just swung my arms about, inadvertently dug my high heel into the parquet flooring, tried to guess the names of the plants in the big, beautiful pots, and hoped that Nikolai would find some reason to save me from the extreme awkwardness of the situation.

  But he didn’t.

  And by the time Dad strode in, Nico and Dmitri we almost shouting at each other, although somehow in that sort of regal way that fancy people had. I watched Dad look between them for a while before he snapped their names and they turned to face him.

  “What is going on here?” Dad asked.

  “Mitya’s just being his pleasant self,” Nico replied smoothly.

  “I am looking out for your daughter,” Dmitri said. “Dominic quite clearly thinks his time is better suited to flirting with her than ensuring she does not embarrass everyone in front of half the court.”

  My breath caught for a reason totally not related to the way it had done the night before.

  “Mitya,” Dad said, a warning in his voice. “I’m well aware Anya isn’t what most people will expect of a lady. But she didn’t grow up here among the nobles the way you did. No one will hold her to the same standards as they would Faith or Lina.”

  “Everyone will hold her to the same standards because she is your daughter and Natalia’s sister. Next to Natalia, she is untrained and uncivilized. We will be lucky if she doesn’t trip down the stairs, bowl over Lord Frisson, and kill the old man.”

  “What in the ever loving hell is your problem?”

  All three of them turned to look at me and I realised that it had been me who’d just said that. Yelled was a more apt description actually. I flushed, but held my own.

  Dmitri’s face was expressionless as almost always. “Lady Tatiana, I–”

  “Am a rude arsehole who for some reason hates me. Well fine, Dmitri. But I am trying here, which is more than can be said for you!” I snapped. “I don’t like my obligations any more than you like yours but, instead of moping around like a total arsehat, I’m just trying to get on with it as best I can.”

  Nico did a very poor job of hiding his laugh in time and Dad just stared at me in something I couldn’t decide was horror or pride. And Dmitri’s expressionlessness was only broken by the fact his eyes had taken on this haunted appearance, which quickly turned to anger.

  “You know nothing about me or my obligations. I serve my country as my king asks me to. And I do it gladly.”

  Nico scoffed. “The only glee you take from it, brother, is being able to show people just how disdainful you are about everything.”

  “Do not start with me, Dominic,” Dmitri snapped, his face a full mask of anger now. “I do not answer to you. When you have learnt the value of duty and honour, then you can speak to me about how to purport myself.”

  “Well, you’re purporting yourself very poorly indeed now,” I said sternly, feeling weird little flutters through my entire body.

  Dmitri seemed to deflate a little, then shook himself, snarled at his brother and stormed out.

  “Uncle Max–” Nico started, but Dad held up a hand to him.

  “Not now. I would speak with Anya. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Nico threw me a sympathetic look, then followed his brother.

  “Dad–”

  “Kiddo, you’re going to be fine,” Dad said, coming over to me and taking my shoulders in his hands.

  I blinked. “Wait what?”

  Surprise flitted across Dad’s face. “You’re not worried about the ball?”

  “Oh, I’m terrified. I was just currently more worried about how badly you were going to lay into me after that display.”

  Dad sighed and pulled me in for a hug. “Those two…” He took a deep breath. “They have never been close. Even as children, they were like night and day. They’re so different they just don’t understand each other and it’s only bred hate between them. I do what I can. But Mitya wants back in the army and cannot fathom why Nico wants out, making him despise what he sees as laziness and a lack of courage in his little brother. And Nico just doesn’t understand that Mitya has obligations weighing on him that Nico has never even had to begin to concern himself with because Kostin would always be there to cover for him. And now you…”

  I pulled back when he didn’t care to elaborate. “What do you mean ‘now me’?” I asked him.

  Dad stepped away, running his hand through his hair. “No one’s missed the way Nico flirts with you, Anya. Or, the way you flirt back–”

  “Dad, I don’t–”

  “I know. I didn’t mean to say you did. I know you, kiddo. I know you’re smart enough to see through Nico. Lia wasn’t, but he never went past the surface with her.”

  “So, what does Dmitri and Nico have to do with me?”

  Dad shrugged wildly. “I don’t know. Mitya just seems angrier since you arrived. I never hid anything about you, kiddo, not from Rex and his family. And while Lia’s…” He stopped and looked at me apologetically.

  “Unnecessarily suited to this life?” I suggested with a smile.

  “That.”

  “We all know I’m not.”

  Dad nodded. “Ja. It’s like Dmitri’s taken it personally that you’re not as…refined and Nico thinks he can have some fun. I just don’t know what to do with them.”

  “Dad, they’re adults. You don’t have to do anything with them,” I reminded him.

  He ran a hand over his chin. “Rex is too busy and Hilde is too…polite to call them on their bullshit now.”

  “Dad, come on. I thought I was supposed to be the one stressing.” I tried for a laugh in the hopes he’d smile.

  He did. “Sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to dump this on you. Ignore Mitya. He’s just…”

  “I know, Dad. But he’s not entirely wrong. Enter via that huge stair case? I’ll be lucky if I don’t take Nico with me when I fall.”

  “Tati, you’ll be fine. You’ve been practising. There’s still four more days left. When the time comes, you’ll know more than you realise, I promise.”

  I scoffed. “How do you know? You did a me at your presentation ball?”

  He looked at me sheepishly. “Not mine. Men don’t have balls–”

  “No, I’m sure you all go hunting or something instead.”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Actually, no. We don’t have anything. But I did have to escort a young lady to her ball and I was so nervous I stood on her dress and ripped it.”

  I looked at him and felt all my worries dull a bit. “I really do take after you, don’t I?”

  He gave me his crooked smile. “Definitely, kiddo. And if I can make it, so can you.”

  “I doubt it. You always look so put together.”

  “I’ve just had more time to perfect the appearance, Tati. You’ll get there, I promise.”

  I sighed. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Do you want me to practise with you now?”

  “You’re not busy?”

  He shrugged. “It’s either this or I go and find the boys and yell at them some more.”

  I snorted, knowing both those boys would give back as good as Dad gave them. “So physical torture is preferable to verbal torture?”

  “Do you want the help or not?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Thanks.”

  “Good. Let’s begin.”

  Over the course of the next few days, Dmitri
and I successfully avoided each other, Kostin, Dad, Lia and Nico spent every spare minute they had helping me prep for the ball and I was starting to feel a whole lot less stressed about the whole thing.

  Especially after a lengthy Skype date with Mum where I whinged about all my worries and she gave me the pragmatic answers I needed to hear. Somehow when Dad and Lia, or even Kostin and Nico, said it, I was hesitant to believe. But Mum had always had this no bullshit sort of vibe. I knew she’d call me out on my failings. So when she told me it was going to be all right, I believed her.

  Still, there was always going to be some underlying nerves and, the closer Saturday got, the less underlying they decided to be.

  Chapter Thirteen

  By Wednesday, I was beat. My brain was exhausted from trying to retain as much Gallyrian, political and etiquette knowledge as possible, and my body was tired from all the dance practise.

  Gerta and Shelly had suggested I have a long soak in a warm tub to ease my muscles before bed and I’d decided that was a pretty decent idea. I spent some of it reading between texting Jenn and Bea while they were at brunch because that was apparently a thing they’d decided to try and decided it would be for the last time. But mostly, I just replayed dance steps over and over in my head, I ran through as much Gallyrian as I could remember, and I tried in vain to remember the people I’d be introduced to at the ball.

  By the time I realised that the water was cold, I was loathe to drag myself out. But I was starting to shiver. So I pulled the plug, pushed myself up as I tried not to splash water everywhere, and wrapped my fluffy towel around me.

  “Feeling better, my lady?” Gerta asked as she looked up from her book and I cursed myself.

  “Yes, thanks. Did I not dismiss you?”

  She smiled at me warmly. “You didn’t, my lady.”

  “And you didn’t use your common sense and realise I meant to?”

  She stood up. “I’ll use it now.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Gerta.”

  “Good night, my lady.”

  As she walked to the door, there was a knock. Gerta and I shared a glance and I knew she was thinking the same thing I was; who was coming to my room in the dead of night? I nodded in answer to the question on her face and saw her stop herself from rolling her eyes.

  I looked down and realised I was still in just my towel.

  “I’ll get dressed,” I said, looking for something to wear.

  “Good plan, my lady.” Gerta went to the door and slid out of it seamlessly to talk to whoever was out there.

  I pulled on the first thing I could find which was my pyjama shorts and t-shirt.

  “My lady?” I heard Gerta call.

  “Yep. Safe,” I replied and the door opened.

  “This is Mr Samson, my lady,” Gerta said as she walked in, followed by a man in probably his early thirties still dressed in an impeccable suit.

  I blinked, not sure who Mr Samson was. I thought I’d seen him around but couldn’t for the life of me remember in what capacity. Plus my hair was still wet and was making my t-shirt wet.

  “His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Dmitri’s Private Secretary, my lady,” Mr Samson explained as he bowed low.

  “Uh, hi.” My look of confusion was mirrored on Gerta’s face. “What can I help you with tonight?”

  “His royal highness wondered if you might be free to meet with him, my lady.”

  “Now?”

  “He apologises for the lateness and would have come himself, but thought it best to meet with you in his study.”

  “Um…” I breathed out heavily, trying to work out if Gerta had any ideas about whether I should go or not. But she wasn’t very helpful and Nikolai had been dismissed for the night. Finally I shrugged. “Sure. Am I all right as is?” I asked.

  Mr Samson inclined his head in a way that I was sure proved his ‘yes’ meant ‘no’. But if he wasn’t going to outright tell me to change, I wasn’t going to just to be insulted or yelled at or whatever Dmitri had planned in the middle of the night.

  “I’ll see you in the morning then, Gerta,” I said to her.

  She gave me what I interpreted as a ‘good luck’ smile, curtsied to me and Mr Samson and left.

  I slipped on my ugg boots and indicated he show me the way to Dmitri’s study.

  Mr Samson was not a short man. He wasn’t as tall as Dmitri or Nico, but he wasn’t short. His brown hair was close cropped, his face clean shaven, and his suit didn’t have a single speck of fluff or dust. He walked with the practised air of a man who was used to being at the same time inferior and superior. He was stiff and polite and his face gave nothing away as I walked with him in silence through the palace.

  Eventually he opened a door and invited me to precede him. It was like a small office, with a desk and couches. As I walked into the room, he over took me and knocked on a door in the opposite wall.

  “Your highness, Lady Tatiana is here,” Mr Samson called through the door.

  I didn’t hear an answer, but Mr Samson opened the door and indicated I enter.

  “Thank you, Samson,” Dmitri said, turning as I walked into his study.

  Samson bowed and left us, closing the door behind him.

  The room was much like Dad’s study, a place for him to take refuge as he worked as well as conduct necessary meetings. The light was low in the room, barely more than a couple of lamps and the light from the fire blazing in the hearth. But it was plenty for me to get a good look at him and suddenly berate my decision not to put a bra on, not even taking into account that the rest of the palace wasn’t as toasty warm as my room or his study.

  As usual, he wore a suit. Like the day I met him, this one was navy blue, his white shirt undone at the collar, and the white pocket square sitting perfect and clean in the breast pocket. His hair looked slightly more dishevelled than usual and there was an agitation about him that was unfamiliar.

  “Thank you for coming, Lady Tatiana.” His voice was low, like he was having trouble keeping the disdain from his voice in the face of me. “I thought it better than coming to you.”

  “Because it’s the middle of the night or because I might have punched you?”

  The flames flickered over his face as he moved so I wasn’t sure if I imagined the split-second half-tilt to his lips or not. “Please, sit.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  He inclined his head. “I asked to see you to apologise for Monday.”

  I crossed my arms. “Really? You’re just now realising that was a dick move?”

  “I am not known for my patience. But I was brought up better than to insult anyone, least of all Max’s child.”

  I could see the whole ordeal was costing him an effort and I had a sudden suspicion I hadn’t been called there of his own volition.

  “Ah.” This was all making sense now. “Did my father put you up to this?” I asked him.

  Dmitri’s eyes slid away from me for a moment. “Max may have…suggested I speak to you–”

  “Well, I will save you the trouble of having to say anything more, then. Good night, your highness.” I started to leave, but he stopped me.

  “Tatiana…”

  “Look, we don’t have to get along, Dmitri. I get that. But I’d much rather you kept your false apologies for someone who needs–”

  “I should not have said what I did, Tati,” he interrupted quickly and my chest stuttered. “I only intended to reprimand Dominic for what I felt was him failing to help you be the best you could be. But…I let my temper get in the way.”

  “I appreciate that, Dmitri. In future, perhaps you won’t allow your feelings for your brother to unnecessarily point out my failings.”

  He said something in Gallyrian, but all I could really pick out was ‘brother’ and maybe ‘you’, and there was a negative in there. Then, he sighed. “I thought you liked I had the balls to come out and say it?”

  I huffed. “I prefer direct t
o passive-aggressive, Dmitri. But no one likes to be reminded how much they suck. And I certainly don’t need the reminder that I’m going to let down my father in front of all those people. So next time, keep your damned mouth shut, yeah? Good night.” I turned to leave again, and he stopped me again.

  “You are…”

  I sighed and looked back at him. “What am I, Dmitri?”

  If I wasn’t stuck between being annoyed at him and stupidly attracted to him, I would have thought that his awkwardness was somewhat adorable. “Given the time you have had to adjust to this life, you are doing remarkably well. Max has every right to be proud of you, of both of you. Any man of the highest birth would be lucky to dream of courting either of you.”

  I scoffed at him. “Yeah, because I’d make such a wonderful princess!”

  He looked me up and down again and I told myself I imagined the heat in his eyes. “Most wear more clothes,” he conceded.

  I frowned again. “The beauty of clothes is you can put them on, if only with slightly less ease than getting them off.” No! We’re being angry, not trying to be all clever and flirt with him!

  I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes at my implication and a smirk lit his face. “You’re not like other women I meet,” he said, the accent getting thicker.

  “Really? How is that?” I asked, almost forgetting I was only in my pyjamas in my readiness to fight back against whatever he was going to come up with.

  “You’re direct and don’t play games. You speak your mind and don’t hide your sharp wit. You lack any sense of entitlement every other woman in my life has to some degree. In short, Tatiana, you are at once refreshing and maddening.”

  “Stellar compliment Dmitri. It’s truly a wonder you don’t have anyone to propose to.”

  “You wanted me to try? Well, I’m trying,” he said stiffly.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

  “As you said, we don’t have to get along. But I am trying to.”

  “Maybe if you have to try so hard, it’s not worth it?” I replied.

  He walked over to me and whispered, as though Samson might have been listening at the door, “Much like Mikelson, I am not accustomed to giving up before I win, Tatiana. It is unbecoming to merely voice our thoughts out loud without any games involved.”