Ah, smack talk.
Perfect.
It was a good party already, and they were only in the second round of competition. They were loose already, too, thanks to Bloody Marys to kick off the festivities. That was why Christian had them start with the horse jumping, so there was no risk of injuring the animals.
As the others gathered around to help Marko up, Theo approached Christian. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t like our chances of competing in target shooting against the RPS guards. They practice every damn day.”
“True. But remember the rules? The top three finishers have to do shots. So while they may cream us this round, by the next they’ll be buzzed and we’ll be ready to tip the odds in our favor.”
“Except…” Theo lifted his own beer mug to point at Christian’s. “We’re all drinking.”
“Well, it is a party.” He laughed, clinking glasses. “And they’ll be drinking more.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Theo swigged again.
Christian held off…for now. He’d keep a clearish head through the games, and then fully throw himself into party mode. “Thanks again for hosting this on your land. I didn’t think the RPS guards would be able to fully relax on any official royal grounds.”
“No, that’s a smart move on your part. This way we’re equals. For the day, anyway.” Theo picked up his rifle and nodded. “Equals until I kick your ass in the four-hundred-meter run.”
Christian very much liked his new friend. He also felt very sorry for him, and the delusion that he could beat a prince. “You can try, Holst. I’ve been running with Kelsey lately. She’s upped my game. The girl’s got feet like Mercury.”
“Bah. He’s nothing more than a myth. Whereas I have legs like Usain Bolt. So eat my dust, Villani!”
Once he was gone, Christian didn’t join the others in the shooting range area. He stayed by the stables, watching.
Thinking.
Brooding.
Much as he’d done nonstop for the past twenty-four hours, ever since being blindsided by the prime minister.
“Why does it look like the legendary Party Prince is checked out?” Elias sidled up next to him. He jammed his fists into the pockets of his Royal Navy fleece.
Christian tapped his temple. “I’m just going over my mental strategy to wipe the floor with you in the fencing round.”
“No. You’re just distracted. Probably not so as anyone else has noticed. But something’s wrong. What is it?”
Damn. He hadn’t wanted Elias to notice. Should’ve known better. The man was trained to notice and act on the slightest change in behavior. “This can wait. I don’t want to bring down your party.”
“So tell me,” Eli insisted. “Get it off your chest, and then we can both party like we’re still twenty-nine.”
“Ha,” he said, deadpan. But maybe his friend had a point. It’d just be…tricky to discuss without compromising Mallory’s privacy any more than it already had been. He trusted Elias implicitly, with his life, but he wouldn’t reveal Mallory’s secret. “Okay, something is wrong.”
“No kidding. That’s even less of a surprise than it’ll be when I win today.”
Christian turned to stare out over the rolling, pine tree-covered hills. “I know a secret that I shouldn’t.”
“That one’s easy. Keep it to yourself,” Elias immediately responded. “And act like you never heard it in the first place.”
If only. “I can’t. I wish I could. It makes an already complicated situation far worse.”
Elias snorted. “Well, to quote my darling Kelsey, duh. That’s probably why it was a secret.”
“Eli, I’m serious. This is big. And I don’t know what to do.”
Stomping his feet against the damp cold, Eli said, “Last count, there were twenty courtiers both ready and willing to advise you. Dump it on them.”
“I don’t trust them.” Especially not with this. “I trust you. Still can’t tell you, though.”
Eli eyed him. “This is that big? That serious?”
“Yes.”
It was as big as the decision to be made about asking his father to abdicate. A king needed a queen. Together, they had to ensure the House of Villani continued on, unbroken, as it had for almost three hundred and seventy-five years.
The prime minister was right—that was his job. As king. One that he’d been simultaneously acknowledging and ignoring while he spent time with Mallory.
But as a man? How could he do his job without the love and support of a woman he trusted? Which had never been an issue, since he’d never been in love. You don’t know what you don’t know. Now that he’d experienced all of that with Mallory, he didn’t know how to move forward without it.
How could he leave Mallory for something that wasn’t her fault? For something, in fact, that one of his own subjects had forced upon her?
Yet how could he knowingly stay with a woman who couldn’t help him fulfill one of his most sacred duties as king?
“Don’t logic it out. Ignore your brain.” Elias patted him on the belly. “Go with your heart and your gut. They’ll never steer you wrong.”
Without having received any of the details of his dilemma, Elias’s advice was actually sound. It at least gave him a direction to focus his thoughts.
“Okay. Thanks.” Christian shook his head to clear it. “Sorry about all this. I promise my head is back in the birthday game. We should go get back to all the fun.”
Elias held up his hand to stop him. “First…if I have a secret, do you want to hear it?”
Snickering, Christian said, “Hell, it’s your birthday, Eli. Tell me anything—good, bad, or ugly. That’s always been our way.”
Oddly enough, he assumed a stance of parade rest: Elias folded his hands behind his back and spread his legs wide. “I want to propose to Kelsey.”
“Propose what?”
The stiffness slumped out of Eli’s shoulders. “Marriage, you idiot.”
“Wow.” He wasn’t sure which surprised him more—his best friend getting engaged, or his little sister getting engaged. It was too much to process. Christian gaped at Elias. Probably for far too long, because an expression he’d never seen before crawled over Elias’s face—nervousness. Belatedly, he stammered, “For…for real?”
Eli scrubbed his fingers through his short, dark hair. “Come on. This is fucking hard enough. I wouldn’t have this conversation for shits and giggles.”
“What’s so hard? You seem to have no problem mentioning when you plan to debase and debauch my baby sister.”
The side-eye his friend gave him was sharp enough to cut through the hull of a container ship. “Damn, you are old, if you talk like that.”
Okay, yes. Occasionally he got the royal thesaurus stuck up his butt, especially after a week of nonstop meetings where he had to be all regal, all the time. “Not old. Protective of a woman I’ve only really known for six months.”
Elias raked his hand over his forehead and the top of his head. Again. “You just said you trusted me.”
“With my life and with my secrets. With my baby sister? That’s a tough one…”
Couldn’t the world go on pause for maybe a day and give him time to wrap his brain around everything?
“Well, it’s about to get tougher.” Eli moved to stand right in front of him. Not that Christian cared if his view of the trees and that small, far-off herd of deer was blocked. But it was weird. “Because I need permission.”
“For what?” Christian bent to retrieve his mug from the ground. If ever a day called for beer, this was it. Unfortunately, he’d thought that twenty minutes ago and already drained the damn thing.
“To ask her to marry me.”
“From who? Oh, you mean you want to call the Wishners in America? Need me to get their number for you?”
&nbs
p; Elias gave him a patronizing look. “The RPS can find out anything about anyone. I don’t need a princely hookup. But I would like your permission, as acting king, to marry a blood princess of the House of Villani.”
Holy fuck.
It…it had never occurred to him.
How was this his role? An ache stabbed through Christian’s heart. His papa would’ve loved this moment. Had probably laughed about it, decades ago, with their mother before she died.
And now he’d missed it. He’d missed so many other things in Kelsey’s life, and now, even though they were finally reunited, he’d missed this one, too.
It crystalized his decision, right then and there. It no longer mattered whether the king showed up at the state dinner. The fact that he was checked out enough to miss this milestone in his daughter’s life was enough to finally move Christian to action.
“Christian?” Yup, Elias was still right in front of him, blue eyes drilling holes into his. “Don’t be a dick and leave me hanging, for Christ’s sake.”
“Oh, God. Sorry. I was trying to figure out what King Julian would say.”
“And?”
“And I have no fucking idea. I’ve been pretending to for months, but I’m done with that. I’ll tell you what I say. As your best friend and as the crown prince of the House of Villani.” Christian grasped Elias around his biceps. “You do our House the deepest honor by joining with us. I can think of no man on this earth I would trust more with the heart of my beloved sister. And I cannot wait for the day when I can truly call you brother.”
“Thanks. Thank you.” Elias’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, three times. “Oh, damn, this is really great.” He threw his arms around Christian, clapping him on the back. They were both laughing through the hug.
“Wait.”
Eli drew back and glared at him. “Do not even toy with me. I’m pledged to protect your life, but I will punch you in the balls if you jerk me around on this.”
“No. Everything I said still stands. Just…my permission isn’t the end of the road. I have to say, for the record, that it’s entirely up to Kelsey. Her life, her decision. Just like it was when she had to choose to accept her life as a princess.”
“Please.” Eli shrugged. And smirked. “I’m the biggest princess perk of them all to her. The only one she can’t resist.”
“You know I might have to make you a prince when this happens…” Christian threatened. Because he had to have some fun hassling his friend.
Groaning, Elias threw his arm around Christian’s shoulders and led them toward the shooting range. “You’re evil. I’ll find a way to make you miserable if you saddle me with another title.”
No need.
When Christian had to end things with Mallory, he’d be miserable enough…and with their bet almost over, he knew that day was coming all too soon.
Chapter Twenty
A shocked footman tried to prevent Kelsey and Mallory from entering the State Banquet Room. “Your Highness, cocktails and hors d’oeuvres are being served in the Grand Loggia. Nobody is permitted in the banquet room for another hour.”
Kelsey straightened her spine and did not wobble even a bit in her pumps, hidden beneath the flowing layers of her pale-lilac ball gown.
Meh, Mallory only gave her half credit for that. Her wobble-free ability probably had to do with how tightly she was gripping Mallory’s hand far less than all the practice she’d been putting in. But to be fair, they were both wearing satin gloves, so their grip wasn’t super tight.
“Alcarsa Palace is my home. My family and I live here. Would you dare to keep me out of my bedroom, Felix? Or my bathroom?”
Oh, snap! Kelsey was operating at full princess power. Regal. Authoritative. Self-possessed. And with just a touch of imperiousness lacing through her tone.
Six months ago, Kelsey never would’ve stood up to anyone in the palace. Because she’d felt like a visitor. Because she’d felt like an imposter. She’d been positive that DNA wasn’t enough to truly make her a princess of Moncriano.
Pride blasted through Mallory at the way Kelsey had finally made her royal status fit. To be sure, if Kelsey ever used that tone with her, there would be dire consequences. But tonight? She could barely contain her grin of triumph.
Underneath the gold epaulets edging the black lapels of his formal livery, the poor man’s shoulders twitched. “Of course not, Your Highness.”
“Then it stands to reason that—much like you, I’m sure—I may enter any room in my house whenever I so please.”
“But…I have orders…”
Kelsey laughed. Laughter that practically tinkled like the harp that had been the soundtrack to tonight’s receiving line. “From someone who outranks a blood princess of the House of Villani?”
“No, Your Highness.” He did give a look to each side first, before opening one side of the door into the banquet room. Then he bowed all the way from the waist as they turned sideways and swept in.
The minute the door shut behind them, Kelsey’s features puckered. Like she’d bitten into a lemon, sniffed horseradish too close, and used lemon juice for eye drops. “I’m a monster. Why did you let me bully that poor man?”
Mallory blinked to keep her eyes from rolling. Visibly, at least. Kelsey had the softest heart. A beanbag was filled with titanium bricks compared to her heart. Which was both good and, while not bad, definitely complicating at times. Like now, when she’d made a perfectly legitimate request.
“C’mon. You’re not actually upset, are you?”
“You betcha. I was mean to him. The poor man was simply doing his job.”
“You were…exploring the power of your birthright.” When that didn’t turn Kelsey’s frown back upside down, Mallory dug her fingers into Kelsey’s ribs. It wasn’t the greatest tickling job in the world, through the boning of the dress foundation, the thick fabric, and the layer of white lace that topped it all off.
“Cut it out.” Kelsey slapped at her hand.
“You cut it out. I promise you weren’t mean, because you used the right angle. This is your home. You have free run of the place. So stop freaking out—” Mallory cut off as she looked past Kelsey’s dangling amethyst-and-diamond earrings at the entirety of the room. “I take it back. Maybe freak out a little.”
“Holy overkill, Batman,” Kelsey breathed.
The State Banquet Room was, well, enormous. It could probably hold the entirety of their Manhattan apartment three times over. Maybe not? Bottom line—huge. Golden. Shimmery.
Twelve crystal chandeliers—each of them three tiers—made the room sparkle. As did the six-pronged gold candelabras, at least six feet tall, that were lined up against the walls. More candelabras interspersed down the length of the table in between the low arrangements bursting with yellow, blue, and purple flowers, combining the colors of both countries.
An excess of crystal reflected the light in the glassware, and the china had a gold stripe that matched the gold silverware. Mallory had seen a lot of fancy, beautiful, historical rooms, but to her mind, this one, done up in its full banquet finery, beat even the throne room.
“I never thought I’d say it, but…this suddenly feels right, in here.” Kelsey tapped the sides of her tiara with its alternating ovals of amethysts and diamonds. “I’m glad I’m wearing it. Almost as glad as I am that Gran loaned you one, too.”
Mallory’s fingers drifted up to the spear of double emeralds at the center of her tiara. The grand duchess had insisted she wear the entire parure including the necklace, earrings, and bracelet. It had felt like playing dress-up, like the beautiful gems couldn’t possibly be real. But in this room, it felt natural.
The Persephone Ball had been more…fun. More of a Cinderella moment. This state banquet for the Swedish crown princess was something altogether different. It was full of royalty from multiple countries, ambassador
s and nobility, with overlaps of the crème de la crème of business, culture, and politics.
Much more formal.
It was the kind of affair where if you picked up the wrong one of the six glasses at your place setting, all 159 other guests would gasp in shocked unison. But she and Kelsey were determined to fit in, to integrate, well, if not seamlessly, then at least with as little attention as possible.
Mallory had a work plan for tonight, too. A thorough scouring of the guest list had yielded several people on tap to attend the orphans gala; people who had not yet committed to their donation. Duchess Mathilde had urged her to use her palace connections to shake people down.
What better place than this gleaming jewel box of a room to remind them that Princess Kelsey was the official patron and, by the way, how much could they be counted on to give to this oh-so-worthy cause?
“Well, we may look the part, but we don’t want to give away that we’re just girls from small-town Michigan. Don’t forget why we came in here.” Mallory brandished the small plate piled with appetizers. “To try the weird food where nobody could watch us react.”
“Thanks for humoring me.” Kelsey gave her a one-armed hug. “I know you’ll probably love all of it.”
“What can I say? Food is fun. I haven’t sampled a single thing in Europe that hasn’t been delicious.” The new tastes and smells and sounds and experiences had all been wonderful. Exciting. Interesting.
Aside from getting shot.
Kelsey swiftly pulled off a white glove. “Yes, but that thing? It’s fish mousse…mousseline? It’s grayish tan and speckled. Slimy. It looks all wrong.”
It was the least appetizing thing on the plate. “We’ll save it for last. Start with the caviar toast point.”
“Why so much fish? Why can’t there be Swedish meatballs? Or buffalo chicken dip?”
Ah.
Now Mallory got it.
The deliberate mentions of some of their family’s most beloved tailgate apps gave her away. The unfamiliar food, the pomp and circumstance, the wholly unfamiliar clothes and jewels and people—Kelsey was having another wave of homesickness. They came far less often these days, for both of them.
Tempting the Prince (Sexy Misadventures of Royals) Page 26
