Dancing with a Prince (Matchmakers in Time Book 3)

by Kit Morgan

  He steered them onto a familiar path that widened as they neared the palace. He often took it when he ventured into the woods each night to think about his day and pray to the Almighty. It eased his burdens and soothed his soul. He especially enjoyed listening to the stream and watching the water in the moonlight. Tonight was such a night – peaceful, serene, the light of the moon illuminating everything with its mysterious glow. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, the night turned magical.

  But there was nothing magical about a pretty young woman landing in his lap. There had to be an explanation, and he was determined to get it. He also wanted to know why he couldn’t let go of her hand. It was as if he’d found something he’d been seeking for a very long time.

  The path widened further and they passed several guards hidden within the trees. He knew they were there and wouldn’t stop him. That would come later, when he reached the secret gate.

  His “guest” stared at their surroundings with interest. The path would change from dirt to gravel soon, then cobblestones. He could tell she was still frightened and confused. He was bigger, taller, could overpower her easily. She was thinking about running, she had to be. But the way he held her, she’d never make it. The shock of her situation, whatever it was, must be wearing off and she was realizing her predicament. But did she realize who she was being escorted by?

  “Where are we?” she asked as the path became gravel.

  “We’re approaching the palace.”

  She laughed. “You are so full of it.”

  He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but could hear the fear in her voice. “It’ll be all right,” he said gently.

  She looked at him, her eyes pleading. He was surprised she didn’t bring them to a stop. Instead she kept looking around, including at his hand holding hers. She was weighing the odds on making a run for it.

  Asger smiled to himself. He’d toss her over his shoulder if he had to and take her to the royal physician that way. If there was nothing wrong with her, then the Guard would be more than happy to question her.

  She suddenly tried to wrench her hand away, but he was ready. He gripped it tighter, put his arm further around her and pulled her closer. “Going somewhere?”

  Pinned against him, she looked up. “Let me go!”

  He tightened his hold further. Time to carry her.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance. She stomped on his foot, hard. Her free hand shot up between them and cracked him in the nose. She tried to spin out of his grasp with a grunt.

  “No, you don’t!” He pulled her close again, and she kicked him in the knee. “Stop that!”

  She kicked him again, harder. For a little thing, she could fight – she’d almost caused his knee to buckle.

  In one swift move he bent, yanked her up, buried his shoulder in her stomach and stood.

  “Let me go!” she gasped.

  Good – it sounded like he’d knocked the wind out of her. “I will as soon as we get to the palace.” He set off.

  She tried to kick but met only air. He didn’t care if she beat on his back with her fists. He might wind up with bruises considering the force she was using, but he wasn’t about to let her go. For some unexplainable reason, he couldn’t.

  The path turned to cobblestones and she stopped struggling. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I told you – the palace.” That knock on the skull must have been powerful – could she not retain facts for a few minutes?

  “You … you … oh, there is no palace! Just stop it already! I’m done playing this stupid game!”

  He stopped. “You don’t believe me?”

  “No!”

  He sighed, stopped and turned so she could see.

  She struggled some more, then ceased. “What the …?”

  “I told you – a palace. Now can we go?” Asger took the woman’s silence as consent, turned again and headed on.

  Chapter Six

  Mitzi gawked at the castle. It was several stories high, with turrets, towers, the whole nine yards. It looked like someone had transplanted it from Disneyland. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not at all,” her captor said. He turned, giving her a view of the moonlit trail again. By this time she was too tired and shocked to fight. “Good evening,” he said to someone in passing.

  Mitzi stared at the uniformed guard as she was carried past. He was dressed in period clothing too, with some insignia on his clothes she didn’t recognize. She laughed. “Really?”

  “I don’t know what you find so amusing,” her captor said.

  “You can set me down now. I’m fine.”

  Now he laughed, so she smacked him on the back. “Are you trying to swat a fly?” he replied.

  “Oh!” She was getting madder by the minute. And, she had to admit, a little scared. In truth, she should be terrified but oddly wasn’t. Something about the man holding her (even if it was like she was a sack of grain) kept her calm. She couldn’t explain it, but she trusted him. In fact, a part of her was practically singing …

  “Good evening … hello there … coming through …”

  Mitzi gaped at the line of guards they passed. One of them looked alarmed, another amused. Several jaws dropped in shock. “Your Highness?” one said.

  “Not now,” His Highness hissed. “Have you seen Captain Kolbeck?”

  “He’s … um … with your father, Your …”

  Mitzi caught the man looking at her, smiled and waved. What else could she do?

  “… he’s with your father,” the guard repeated and waved weakly back.

  “Excellent.” His Highness – what to make of that? – carried her across a footbridge.

  She did her best to look at the water below. Was it a moat? What else could it be? Where was she?! She tapped him on the shoulder. “Put me down, please?”

  “In a moment – be patient.” He stopped. “Good evening.”

  “Er … good evening, Your Highness.”

  Mitzi felt him shake his head, then heard a bolt being pulled back and the creak of a heavy door opening. “What’s happening? What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to meet my father.”

  “What? Are you crazy? You’re just going to …” She stopped, eyes wide, as she was carried into a passageway lit with torches. “Oh, no way. NO WAY!”

  He sighed and set her on her feet. “There. As the door is shut and guarded, escape is unlikely.”

  “What?” She noted he still held her arms. “Get your paws off me!”

  He shook his head. “Bad idea. You might hurt yourself.”

  “What?” She pulled back, aiming the heel of her hand for his nose. Quickest way to temporarily disable a man: break either his face or his crotch.

  Unfortunately, due to his grip on her upper arm, she fell a few inches short. “Now, we’ll have none of that.” He spun her around and pulled her flush against him. “Please, the castle isn’t someplace to run about willy-nilly. You could trip and fall, run into a guard and scare him, who knows what. Trust me, the safest place for you to be is at my side.”

  “Or over your shoulder?”

  He smiled. “I apologize for that, but in truth, yes. Now will you come nicely or do I have to carry you again?”

  She looked up and down the passage. It was only six feet wide with dry stone walls. At least he hadn’t brought her to some dark dungeon. Maybe there wasn’t one. Once she figured out where she was, she’d have a better idea of what to do, so she could play along for now. He hadn’t hurt her, after all, and he could’ve. “Who is your father?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m really not.”

  He studied her for a few seconds before continuing. “I’ll see that you’re returned to your home. But as you were trespassing, I cannot disobey the law. I’ll leave it up to my parents, the Queen and Prince Consort, to decide what to do with you in the meantime.”

  S
he blinked a few times. “Queen.”

  “Yes.”

  “Prince Consort.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Not last I checked, no.”

  She rolled her eyes. Great, he’s nuts. “Okay. Take me to your leader.”

  “Very well – I shall.” He let her go briefly, only to loop her arm around his and continue down the passage. They reached a set of stairs, went up them, then another. He turned down another passage, then another, then more stairs. She tried to keep track but didn’t do a good job once she realized how big the place was. Who would build a fake castle just to play dress up? His goofy family must either be hereditary royalty or rich as Elon Musk. And Nevada didn’t have hereditary royalty.

  Finally they went through a door into a hallway that wasn’t made of stone. It was beautifully appointed, like something out of a fairy tale. She stared in awe at the rich furnishings, the paintings and tapestries on the walls. “Where …?”

  “I’ve already told you. Now come along.” He tugged her along, keeping her at his side. They reached the end where two guards stood on either side of a set of double doors. “Are they in there?” he asked them. “A simple nod will do.”

  Both guards, their eyes glued to her, nodded and opened the doors.

  And again, Mitzi’s jaw dropped. The room was like nothing she’d ever seen outside of books. “What is this place?”

  “My parents’ sitting room. If you’ll excuse me?” He let go of her arm, then just … stared at her.

  “What?”

  He swallowed hard. “I’ll be back in a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable. No … no, that won’t do.” He took her hand.

  To her shock, her knees almost gave out.

  He caught her as quick as lightning. “Are you all right?”

  Mitzi stared at him. She was obviously not. “What’s happening?”

  “Do you feel faint?” Before she could answer, he carried her to the nearest piece of furniture, a blue velvet loveseat trimmed in gold. It looked like it was French. Too bad she was fuzzy on history or she’d know the period. She put her hand to her temple, feeling light-headed. What was this?

  He went down on one knee next to her. “Tell me you’re all right.”

  She looked into his concerned eyes. The man wasn’t faking, she could tell. “I … I’m not sure. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know how I got here …”

  “It’s okay, I’ll take care of you.”

  Mitzi stared back. The shock of what was happening was catching up. How could she possibly be in a castle? And why was she here in the first place? Nothing made sense.

  “Asger?”

  Mitzi looked up as another man approached. He was huge, well over six feet with broad shoulders, blonde hair transitioning to gray, a Van Dyke beard and blue eyes. If the Scot at Java King could’ve been a linebacker, this guy was a defensive tackle – crossed with the King of Diamonds from a playing card deck.

  “Far,” her captor said. It sounded Scandinavian. Did it mean “father”? She noticed he didn’t stand as he spoke, but stayed kneeling, her hand in his.

  “What is this?” his father said in English. “Or should I ask, who is this?”

  Now His Highness stood. “I found her in the woods during my evening stroll. She seems to be stunned.”

  Far looked her up and down. “Who are you, young lady? And what were you doing in the Queen’s forest?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  “I think she was abducted, bumped her head and lost her memory,” His Highness replied.

  “Is this true?” the other man asked, now looming over her. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Stand.”

  Her captor took her other hand and pulled her to her feet. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She nodded. At least her knees weren’t buckling again. She faced the larger man. “Hi.”

  “Hmm. Where are you from, young lady?”

  “Las Vegas.”

  He exchanged a look with her captor. “What is this … Las Vay-gus?”

  “Um, you know – Las Vegas, Nevada? Clark County?” She almost added “Sin City” but decided against it.

  “I have never heard of it,” the bigger man said.

  Her eyebrows rose. “What? How could you not have heard of Las Vegas? Everyone knows Las Vegas.”

  “I don’t,” he stated. “I have heard of Nevada, but … isn’t that in the United States?”

  “Of course it is – where else would it be?!” Her voice squeaked on her last word.

  The bigger man’s eyes widened. “United States …”

  “Yes!” She pulled her hands from her captor’s and felt a sudden sense of separation. Weird. “Yes, United States! And I’d like to know how I got here!”

  The bigger man continued to stare, his jaw slack. “And you don’t know how you got here?” he finally asked.

  “Not a clue. I was at work when some lady’s purse got snatched. I chased after the guy into a bright light and …” She waved around her.

  “And now you’re here.”

  She glanced around. “Yeah, I guess so. So where is here?”

  He groaned, dragged a hand down his face and looked at the smaller – well, less huge – man. “Your mother is involved in this, I’m sure of it.”

  Just then a woman in a forest green gown, followed by a man wearing a uniform similar to the guards, entered the room. “What the devil?” the guard said.

  “Captain Kolbeck, I found this young woman in the woods.” His Highness said. “I believe she may have been kidnapped. Take your men out and search for intruders.”

  “Right away.” He turned to the woman, who wasn’t much taller than she was. “With your permission?”

  “Of course.” She came closer and stared at Mitzi. “Are you quite all right?”

  “Yes, thanks for asking.”

  The woman cocked her head. “What’s your name, child?”

  Mitzi gave her a funny look. Child? “Um, Mitzi Fine. What’s yours?”

  Her captor smiled. “She’s not from around her.”

  “Obviously.” The woman offered Mitzi a hand. “I am, by the grace of God, Her Majesty Queen Madeleina of Dalrovia, Guardian of the Wattenmeer, Protector of Bourtange and Overseer of the Neukirchen.”

  Mitzi’s jaw dropped and, before she could stop herself, she began to laugh. And once she started, she couldn’t stop.

  The “Queen” stared at her, eyebrows raised, then glanced between the men. “Oh dear, the poor thing has lost her wits.”

  His Highness put his arm around her. “She’s distraught.”

  Mitzi looked at him and laughed louder. Oh, great – maybe she was cracking up. But this was so bizarre, it was all she could do.

  “Asger,” the bigger man said. “Where exactly did you find her?”

  “As I said, Father, in the woods. Near the stream, where I usually go.”

  Asger – what an unusual name, Mitzi thought, trying to get her cackles under control. But it beat thinking of him as “His Highness,” like everyone else had addressed him.

  “And you saw no one else?”

  “No, Father.”

  Father sighed. “You didn’t see or hear the MacDonalds?”

  “What? Why would I?”

  “Asger,” Mitzi said to herself.

  “Yes?”

  Her giggles abruptly stopped. “Er, nothing.”

  Asger turned back to his parents. “What would the MacDonalds have to do with this?”

  His parents exchanged a quick look. “Leave us, son,” his father said.

  Asger quickly took Mitzi’s hand. “No.”

  “What?” his parents said at once.

  “She’s frightened. I should stay with her.”

  Mitzi patted Asger’s hand. “With all due respect, dude, I’m more frightened of you than anyone else here.”


  Asger yanked his hand away as if she’d just punched him. “I … I apologize. I …”

  “Never mind,” his father said. “There are things I would ask her. As soon as you leave the room.” He said the last few words in a way that allowed for no argument.

  Asger frowned, fidgeted, then finally said, “Yes, Father.” He looked at Mitzi as if in pain, said, “I’ll be right outside,” then turned and left.

  “Young lady,” Asger’s father said, sitting next to her on the loveseat. The Queen – no, don’t start guffawing again! – perched on a nearby chair.

  She turned to face him. “Yes?”

  “I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them truthfully. Is that understood?”

  She laughed again. “Truth? What about telling me where I am, how I got here and what you plan to do with me?”

  He exchanged a look with his wife and sighed. “What is your name again?”

  “Mitzi Fine. It hasn’t changed in the last five minutes.”

  “And you are from America?”

  “Yes – Las Vegas, Nevada.”

  “And you … chased a thief … into a bright light?”

  “Yes,” she hedged. “None of that’s changed either.”

  He exchanged another look with his wife, who was staring at her wide-eyed. The man sighed. “White light?”

  “Yes.” She looked between them. The woman was becoming increasingly alarmed.

  “And you wound up here?”

  “Yes!” Now she sighed. “Okay, not exactly. I woke up in some woods near here.”

  “Woke up?” the woman said.

  “Yes.” Her eyes flicked between them. “What?”

  The big man squared his shoulders and swallowed hard. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am His Majesty Prince Consort Andel.” He motioned to the woman. “My wife has already introduced herself.”

  “Okay,” Mitzi replied skeptically. “We all know I’m Mitzi. No fancy titles.”

  The Queen – Madeline, was it? – smiled. “Yes.” She looked worriedly at her husband.

  He nodded, looking dead serious. Was he that good of an actor? “Tell me, Miss Mitzi Fine. What is the date?”