Royal Holiday

by McKenna James

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “I was going to ask you?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea, Princess Marina.”

  “You were in my room, weren’t you? Didn’t you see who put it on my bed? Did a maid or guard come in at some point and drop it off?”

  “I’m sorry, Princess Marina, I don’t have a clue. I left momentarily to wash my hands. I happened to run into Brandon on my way back.”

  My mind was spinning. I didn’t know whether to be concerned or giddy. Judging by the little smile stretching across my lips, I was feeling more the latter than the former. I looked out of the arching window on the other side of the hall and drank in the scenery. The winter palace had been constructed on the plateau. The location was initially chosen as a strategic defense plan. Up here, you could see everyone and everything. If an enemy were ever to make a move on the Crown, the guards would see them coming well in advance. But the position above the rest of the city offered a beautiful picture of tall spirals, charming little brick houses, and a world where the past and the future collided into a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. Somewhere out there, my knight was waiting to see me again.

  Oliver’s cell phone beeped in his pocket. He checked his screen quickly only to frown. “My apologies, Princess Marina,” he said hurriedly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to reschedule my appointment with you. One of my runway models for a show in two days has decided to elope with her girlfriend, and now I need to find a replacement. I apologize for wasting your time.”

  I shook my head. “No time wasted. I was glad for the company. And your project really does sound like something I’m interested in. I’ll have my people call yours.”

  Oliver smiled and bowed to me, turning to quickly glance at Brandon. “I’ll see you later?” he whispered.

  Brandon nodded, sheepishly looking away. I’d never seen him so bashful and bumbling before. “Um, y-yeah. Later.”

  Oliver chuckled softly before turning on his heels to leave.

  Brandon shuffled toward me, chewing on his bottom lip. “Did he, uh… Did he say anything about me?”

  I giggled and rolled my eyes. “You two are hopeless.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I took Brandon’s arm, clutching my knight’s message in my other hand. “Come on, let’s go for a walk and gossip. I wanted to take a turn about the gardens.” I could tell by the way the muscles in Brandon’s neck started to tense that he was about to protest, but I knew exactly what to do to shut him up. “If you’re good, I’ll give you Oliver’s phone number.”

  Brandon huffed like he was annoyed with me, but he followed my lead regardless.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rodrigo

  Package delivered. I think she loved it.

  I read and re-read Oliver’s text message again and again. There was something thrilling about playing this little game with Marina, something teasing and lighthearted. It filled my chest with a blooming anticipation to know that I’d be seeing her again, but as myself this time, not as a knight all dressed up and disguised. My heart thumped heavily against my ribcage at the thought of revealing myself. How would she react when she found out the knight was me? Would Marina be happy to see me, her long-lost friend and mystery knight? I prayed that she would. So far, everything was working so well. She hadn’t overreacted to receiving the message like I expected her to, so that was a good sign.

  But sitting at the dining table with Father and Mother, I quickly realized how complicated things really were. If Marina found out who I was—and more importantly, who I was related to—would she still feel the same way about me? Could she look past the fact that I was a Sabatino, a member of the family who was trying to take her father down, and her right to her throne along with him?

  Father slapped his hand down on the surface of the table. “I’m telling you, that man is on the brink of driving this nation to ruin.”

  Mother pressed her lips into a thin line. “No politics at the table, dear.”

  Father had apparently been dragged into an emergency meeting with the King earlier that morning. By the sounds of it, things hadn’t ended very well. He was still fuming, the vein at his temple throbbing angrily. “Our economy is tanking, employment rates are rising, and children are starving in our streets. But what does the King want to do? He wants to go to war.”

  “He’s simply defending the northern border, Father,” I said calmly.

  Father sneered at me. “No bullets have been fired, and no blood has been spilled, but that doesn’t mean the King doesn’t intend to start trouble. He’s gathering his forces in the north so that they’re ready to move in on his command. And the fact that he’s trying to conscript every man and woman able to fight means he intends a long campaign. Only an idiot would think the King’s doing this for the sake of his people. Wars cost a lot of money. He’s going to bleed his people dry.”

  “Wars also generate a lot of money,” I countered.

  “Whose side are you on, boy?”

  “I’m just trying to keep a level head about things.”

  Father shook his head, disappointment practically dripping off of him. He jabbed his index finger in my direction. “I’m sending you to live with your cousins in Peytre.”

  Something inside me snapped. Where was this coming from? Why was I being sent away again? Why did I have to leave, especially now that I had Marina back in my life to look forward to?

  “What? Why? I just got back,” I snapped.

  “I’ve got friends at the University of Peytre. He can get you into their law program so that you can study to become a lawyer. Once you learn a thing or two, you can finally come home and help me destroy the monarchy.”

  “But, Father, I don’t–”

  “And this way, the King won’t be able to place his grubby little hands on you and force you to enlist.”

  “It’s for your own protection, son,” said Mother coolly. “The Royal Family is a disease our countrymen can no longer endure.”

  “A disease?” I echoed in disbelief. “They’re not like that. Marina’s the sweetest person I know.”

  Father scoffed. “The monarchy’s changed since you’ve been gone. They only care about their own interests. You know nothing, and therefore should say nothing.”

  Mother cleared her throat. “Enough. Dinner’s getting cold.”

  I glared down at the plate sitting before me, jabbing my fork into the pile of mashed potatoes like it owed me money. Dinner tasted bland against my tongue, a weird mix of textures running along my taste buds. I couldn’t focus on how bad the food was. I was too livid to focus on anything other than Father’s vitriol. He’d become an entirely different man. Sitting across from me, he reminded me more of a stranger than a beloved father. Politics had twisted his heart into something unrecognizable. He’d always been a man for the people, but this… This was too much. Father used to collaborate, used to be open to discussion and an exchange of ideas—no matter how different from his own. But the man sitting before me was a ghost of his former self, living off of his hatred for the Crown.

  It occurred to me then that they’d never approve of me and Marina. I probably wouldn’t be able to say anything to convince Father and Mother otherwise that Marina was actually a wonderful person. She probably didn’t think about me a lot while I was away, but I thought a lot about her. I kept up with the latest news surrounding her, all the charitable projects she liked to involve herself with. In a weird way, I knew her intimately, even though we’d spent a decade miles apart. She loved working with children, loved being a patron of the arts, and absolutely adored helping animals in need. She wasn’t some greedy, hateful person like my parents seemed to think she and her family were like. I didn’t know what I’d do if Father and Mother didn’t approve of us.

  But I had a little under two weeks to work that out. In thirteen days, I promised to see Marina again. If everything went according to plan, I’d know the softness of her lips once
more beneath fresh mistletoe.

  I finished dinner in a hurry and promptly excused myself, unable to find much comfort in my parents’ company. I needed to make my move on Marina before they sent me away. This whole moving-me-around-like-a-chess-piece schtick was getting old really fast. She was already in my heart. Now I just needed to make sure that I was in hers.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Marina

  Father sent me in his stead to attend the Christmas cocktail party a week later hosted downtown for the members of Parliament and their families. It was a fancy celebration with twinkling lights, red carpets, and golden champagne on every server’s platter. Father normally attended the event with Mother at his side, but he said he wanted me to have a more active role now that I was old enough to conduct myself properly. I was more than happy to take up the offer. Not only was I going to dance until my feet were sore, I was taking on more responsibilities as a princess. I thought of it as training, really. I still wasn’t one for parties, much preferring the adventure romance novel I picked up earlier that day, but a good ruler needed to be sociable, needed to understand the give and take of properly engaging conversation.

  And naturally, I brought Brandon as my chaperone. It wasn’t proper for a lady of my social standing to be at a party all alone. It was his night off, anyway. Mainly because I ordered Chef Bonette to give it to him. And my team of bodyguards didn’t count. They wouldn’t stick by my side and gossip with me like Brandon did.

  We’d dressed up for the occasion. I was in a simple evening gown made of sparkling silver fabric, golden embroidery flowering up the length of the dress from my right ankle up toward my left shoulder. The dress was luckily long enough to hide the fact that I was wearing a comfortable pair of basic black flats. A delicate string of pearls wrapped around my neck, perfectly complemented by the pearl pins keeping my hair in a loose up-do.

  Brandon looked a little stiff in the suit he wore. It wasn’t anything too fancy, likely a hand-me-down from his father or another family member of his. I had half a mind to call Oliver to request an emergency fitting session, but I knew the designer was probably too busy dealing with his missing model situation. Maybe next time, if I wasn’t so preoccupied with my own mysterious love interest, I’d devise some way to lock Oliver and Brandon in a room for a couple of hours. They clearly had a thing for one another, but I was disappointed that neither of them had really made a move yet.

  Which was surprising considering Oliver was so… Well, so Oliver. Brandon, I could understand. He was quiet, always had been. I wouldn’t expect him to make the first move in a million years.

  The cocktail party was being hosted at a large banquet hall in a fancy five-star hotel in the downtown core. There was a great deal of security at the front entrance where all of the party’s guests were gathering. I supposed that made a lot of sense. Some of the kingdom’s most important and influential people—myself included—were going to be here. Brooklandia was a relatively quiet and peaceful country, but Mother always warned me to be on guard when out in public. Just like at the Christmas market, people would find reasons to harass me if they really tried.

  Our stretch limo arrived at the front entrance where a long red carpet was stretched out to greet me. One of my bodyguards opened the door for me and allowed me to slip out of the vehicle. An explosion of camera flashes nearly blinded me as news reporters and magazine photographers snapped pictures of me in my outfit. This level of attention used to bother me a lot when I was a little girl, left me feeling overwhelmed like I was stuck beneath a microscope. But I’d learned very quickly how to ignore the flashes, the calls for me to ‘look here, please.’ I couldn’t let people push me around just to uphold their expectations.

  I was a princess, the future Queen. One day, nobody would be able to tell me what to do.

  Brandon was quick to take my hand and lead me inside away from the cheering crowd. On the other side of the street was a large gathering of people, the majority of them holding up cardboard signs with protest slogans written over them. One glance at them and I could tell they weren’t very friendly. Well, monarchy-friendly.

  “Down with the Crown!” screamed a hysterical woman in the front row.

  “Our children are starving, and you’re here partying!” shouted a man further back.

  I swallowed, guilt creeping into my mind from the base of my neck. I wanted to help them. I really did. That was why I was so eager to organize charity events and support local causes. But there was only so much I could do with the amount of power I held. I was powerless until I sat on the throne. I promised that I’d one day help them, do everything I could to take care of my people. But until then, there was nothing I could do. Father was set in his ways, and right now, social policies were the least of his concerns.

  “Your necklace could have paid for my family’s meals for months!” a man yelled at me.

  I almost turned to address the person, but Brandon kept a firm hand against my back.

  “Ignore them,” he whispered as he guided me inside.

  I did my best, but even inside, I could still hear their muffled chanting from across the way. I tried to push the negative thoughts out of my head, attempted to swallow down the unease that was bubbling up into the center of my throat. I couldn’t take things personally. The people were angry. They just needed someone to take their frustrations out on. I just happened to be the closest thing to a punching bag they’d come across as of late.

  “I said ignore them,” Brandon pressed. “If you’re not feeling well, we can just go home.”

  I shook my head and forced a smile. “No. It’s okay. I’ll have fun.”

  Brandon didn’t look convinced, but he nodded regardless. “Okay. But let me know if you change your mind. I don’t care if we leave twenty minutes in or six hours in.”

  I gave his arm a squeeze. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

  “I’m the best friend.” He chuckled.

  The banquet hall was luxuriously decorated, though it couldn’t really hold a candle to the Midnight Magic Ball my family hosted earlier that week. The lights in the hall were dimmed so that the glow-in-the-dark star stickers littering the ceiling and the walls could truly shine and take center stage. The fresh pine tree in the corner of the hall was decorated up with red and gold ornaments and warm white lights that wrapped around its branches. Along the far wall were several tables full of snack foods and refreshments, directly beside the live band that was playing jazzed-up versions of famous Christmas carols.

  It was hard for people to not notice me. The second someone spotted me, they’d break away from whatever conversation they were partaking in to bow at me. I could tell a lot about a person from the way they bowed. Those who were stiffer, who limited the gesture to a quick dip of their head—it was easy to tell they weren’t exactly supporters of the Crown. Those who were overly dramatic and smiling wide, even though I didn’t recognize them in the slightest, were people who clearly wanted something from me. It was honestly exhausting feeling like I was stuck in the middle of not being wanted and being wanted for all the wrong reasons.

  “I’ll grab you something to drink,” offered Brandon.

  “Thank you,” I said, picking a spot next to a tall bar table to linger beside. The piece of furniture was the only thing separating me from the rest of the room and its occupants. I placed my hands on the edge of the table and gripped at it, like some sort of safety blanket or anchor point.

  The lights and the sounds and the smells were dizzying. One would think I’d be used to events like this by now. But being alone amongst a crowd always made me nervous. I knew most of the people here, but I didn’t really know them. Save for Brandon, I didn’t have very many friends or people I could place my confidence in. Every single person here had an agenda. They were all smiles on the outside, but on the inside? That was a different matter entirely.

  I looked about the room and studied everyone’s faces.

  If I tried hard enough, I coul
d find Senator Sabatino amidst the group and try my best to stay away from him and his supposed hundred followers. But it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. It was dangerous for me to be out in the open like this, but it was a necessity for optics’ sake. Maybe it was a good idea that I was here instead of Father. Had Father been the one to deal with the protesters outside, there was no telling what kind of mayhem would have ensued.

  “Care for a drink?”

  I startled, whipping around so suddenly I almost lost my footing. It was a good thing I was holding onto the table because the surprise that was waiting for me nearly knocked me off my feet.

  Beside me stood a tall young man in a fine grey suit, black button-down shirt, and pretty blue tie. He was holding out a glass of white wine for me, a charming smile across his lips. It took me a couple of seconds to place his face. It was one I hadn’t seen in ages.

  “Rodrigo?” I gasped. “Rodrigo, is that you?”

  He smiled bashfully, his grin just as goofy as it was when we were children. Rodrigo cast his eyes down momentarily as he sheepishly shrugged. “Hello, Marina.”

  I let out a breathy laugh as I attempted to wrap my arms around him. He was a lot taller than I remembered him being, so I kind of bumped him in the shoulder, inadvertently causing him to spill a bit of the drink. The liquid sloshed and landed on the floor, luckily sparing my dress and Rodrigo’s expensive-looking Oliver Smiths. With an amount of grace I couldn’t understand, he chuckled and placed the glass on the table before moving back in awkwardly to hug me.

  It was a quick embrace, a little stiff and lacking any sense of coordination. It was like trying to put on a sweater that was two sizes too small. My arms were tangled up around him, and he had to crouch slightly so that I could even reach him. When we pulled apart, it became even more apparent just how much he’d grown since I last saw him.

  His jaw was much more defined, and his cheeks appeared hollower, accenting the perfect contours of his high cheekbones and straight nose. The freckles that used to decorate his cheeks had long since faded, barely visible on his olive skin. He didn’t slump anymore, didn’t try to pull away because he was shy with everyone and everything. Rodrigo stood with a straight back, chest puffed out, and head held up with pride. His knobby knees were gone, replaced with legs for days. He was refined, well put-together. Save for those short, unruly dark brown curls at the base of his neck, it was hard to imagine that this was the same Rodrigo that left me so many years ago.