“Tell her… Tell her that I’ll be back. Tell her that I’m serious about her, and I’ll be thinking about her every single day until I can find a way for us to be together. Tell her not to give up on me, and that I’m sorry that this is happening. Please let her know that I’m sorry for what happened to her father.”
“Anything else? Do you want to throw the L-word in while you’re at it?”
“I’ll tell her I love her when I get to see her next.”
“You two are tragically adorable, you know that?”
“Take care of yourself, Oli. I promise to reach out the second things have settled on my end.”
“Okay. Be safe, Rodrigo. And I swear to God, if you don’t come back like you promise, I will kill you. These hands are meant for sewing, but I will defile them if you break her heart. You hear me?”
“I’ll be back, Oli. I will, I promise.”
I hung up the phone and promptly stuffed the device in my pocket, more than a little aware of the way Mother was staring out of the corner of her eye. Her expression was blank, unreadable.
“You love her?” she whispered. She sounded uncharacteristically soft and understanding.
I nibbled on my bottom lip as I stared down at my boots on the cold stone tiles of the train station platform. The sharp, high-pitched whistle of an oncoming train—the one that would take Mother and I to safety—ripped through the cold air. I didn’t want to look at it. This train was going to take me away, create miles upon miles of distance between me and Marina. My heart ached. It would have just been easier to tear it out of my chest with my bare hands.
“I do,” I mumbled bitterly to myself as the train chugged into the station.
Mother didn’t say anything. She simply rose from her seat, boarding tickets in hand, the slightest twinge of regret weighing down her cold, blue eyes.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Marina
Eight Months Later
I thought time would make things easier.
It didn’t.
Everything started to look grey. My books no longer held my interest. The sweets Brandon would bake up for me were good, but I didn’t find myself craving them anymore. Oliver’s jokes and good humor did little to put me in a better mood.
Things just weren’t the same without Rodrigo.
At first, I thought I could get over him. There was no telling if he’d ever return to Brooklandia after the attack. I didn’t believe what the press was saying, not even for a second. They branded him a traitor, a runaway, even though there was no solid evidence that Rodrigo was in any way involved.
Innocent people don’t run to a foreign country, the papers argued.
The rumor mill was running at all hours of the day. Gossip magazines and self-proclaimed ‘journalists’ tried writing exposé pieces on the Sabatinos. Most of them tried to drag Rodrigo and his family through the mud. Most of them succeeded. No matter where I went, I couldn’t escape the slander and hatred, even if it was misinformed and speculative nonsense.
I tried to tune everything and everyone out. I was just so tired all of the time. Tired of the gossip and the rumors and the instability the King was now facing. Senator Sabatino’s rebellion had been a wakeup call for Father. He’d been passive for so long that he genuinely feared a full-scale revolt. While he spent the last couple of months in recovery, he urged his advisors to meet with him at all hours to re-evaluate the kingdom’s policies. The people were finally getting the help they needed.
But at what cost?
Perhaps at the cost of my sanity.
My security detail tripled in size after the attack. Every waking moment, a bodyguard was at my side no matter what. Whether I wanted a little privacy in my library, roaming down the halls, when I went to visit Brandon downstairs in the kitchens—it didn’t matter. Someone was always watching over me.
Breathing down my neck.
I was in the gardens, sitting on a stone bench covered in flat cushions to make it more comfortable. The July heat was almost too much to bear, but I didn’t really mind. I was dressed in a pink blouse and tan shorts, a straw sunhat atop my hat to keep cool. A heavy book sat on my lap, cracked open to the last page I read. My heart wasn’t really in the story. I kept reading the same line over and over again, stuck in a never-ending loop.
Closing my eyes, I breathed in the warm summer air. The scent of roses filled my head, sweet and light and barely there. The royal gardens were known for their prize-winning roses, though none of them could compare to the singular rose Rodrigo gifted me all those months ago.
I still had it in my room, hanging upside down above my work desk to preserve it. The petals were fragile and dry now, the stem a dull brown. Its thorns were as sharp as ever, though. Every time I caught a glimpse of the simple gift, I thought about him. I wondered where he was, what he was doing, who he was talking to.
I wondered if he thought about me.
Rodrigo apparently wanted me to wait, that he’d be back one day. I held out hope that I’d see him again. I waited days, and weeks, and now months. If I was being perfectly honest, I didn’t know how much more my poor, aching heart could take.
My bodyguard cleared his throat, seeking my attention. “Princess Marina?”
“Yes, Charles?”
“There’s someone at the front gates asking for you. An Oliver Smith?”
I raised an eyebrow, curious. “Let him in. You know he’s a friend of mine.”
“I just want to double check, Princess. The King has ordered us to be extra careful when visitors are present.”
“Oliver isn’t a visitor. He’s here so much that he practically lives here. Send him through.”
The bodyguard barked something into the radio that was strapped to his shoulder. A few minutes later, Oliver walked into the royal gardens, a Royal Guard at either side of him.
“Thank you for escorting me, gentlemen,” he said dryly. “Let’s do it again some time.”
The guards, unamused, turned and left Oliver with me. I rose from my bench and wrapped my arms around him, giving him a tight hug.
“It’s been so long!” I sighed. “I’ve been bored out of my mind without you.”
Oliver smiled softly at me. “Likewise, Princess.”
“I’m sorry about the pat down they had to give you. Father insists on checking visitors for weapons.”
“Don’t tell my boyfriend, but I actually kind of enjoyed it.” He winked.
A little laugh bubbled from my lips. It felt good to let go a little. The palace had become incredibly stuffy and suffocating ever since the failed rebellion.
Oliver and I sat. I couldn’t help but notice the way he kept side-eyeing Charles with suspicion. Oliver leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Do you think you can get rid of him? I’ve got something for you?”
“What is it?”
“A gift. From a special someone.”
My heart skipped a beat. I mouthed, Rodrigo?
Oliver nodded.
Getting rid of my personal bodyguard wasn’t going to be easy. He was under strict orders from Father to keep me safe, which incidentally meant hovering around me like a hawk at all hours of the day. All I needed was a few minutes away from him.
I started to cough hard, making a show of wheezing. The sun beating down on my head already left me warm, so it was easy for me to break out into a sweat and my cheeks to flush pink.
Oliver, quick to pick things up, turned to the bodyguard and snapped, “Get the Princess some water! I think she’s got something caught in her throat.”
“R-right away!” Charles hurried away, sprinting back toward the palace.
Oliver and I held our breath until he was finally out of sight. We burst into a fit of laughter.
“That’s probably the most fun I’ve had in a while,” I admitted.
He reached into his jacket’s inside pocket, pulling out a small envelope and a rose. The petals had been crushed, and the letter was crinkled in the corners.
“Sorry,” he apologized, seemingly reading my mind. “I had to kind of stuff it in or else they’d find it.”
I shook my head, shakily taking the items in my hands. “That’s okay,” I whispered as I dragged my fingers over the edges of the envelope. It was the same kind Rodrigo had used to send me little messages to count down the days we’d meet under the mistletoe.
I swiftly opened the envelope and slipped the cardstock letter out. I inhaled slowly, admiring the loops of his cursive writing.
I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. My mother’s been breathing down my neck.
I chuckled. I knew exactly what that felt like.
I have so much I want to tell you,
but there’s not enough paper in the world for me to write it all down.
I’ll be in Evergreen for the rest of the month—it’s summer break here.
I’ve got a private room booked at the Marriott.
Meet me there if you can.
Yours and yours only, R.
I carefully slipped Rodrigo’s message in the back pocket of my shorts, keeping the rose he’d sent me in the palm of my hand. I smiled down at the wilting petals, still enchanted by the flower’s beauty and the symbolism behind it. The poor thing had gone through hell just to get here. Rodrigo was thinking about me, wherever he was hiding. This realization alone left me feeling lighter and calmer than I had in months. Not knowing how he was doing, if he was safe—it had caused me so much more stress than I’d realized. A simple note and a little flower later and I felt refreshed, my worries sloughing away.
Turning to Oliver, I asked, “Do you feel like going on vacation with me?”
“Really? I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
“I’m dead serious. Bring Brandon too. I’ll pay for everything.”
“That’s really generous of you, Marina, but why do you need me to come along?”
“Rodrigo wants to meet me in Evergreen. If I travel with friends, people are less likely to suspect me of meeting up with someone. Who vacations alone, right?”
“Right,” he said slowly. “If anyone asks, we can say we’re on a collaborative retreat.”
I snapped my fingers, excited. “Exactly! What do you say? Please? Pretty please?”
Oliver chuckled. “Okay, okay. I’m always up for some beach lounging, but we’ll have to check with Brandon first. He’s been pretty busy with work lately.”
“Trust me, if I ask Chef Bonette to give him time off, he will.”
“Well, alright then. I really can’t complain about an all-expenses-paid vacation.”
“Princess Marina!” shouted my bodyguard from the palace doors.
Oliver and I immediately shut up, looking to Charles as he ran back to me, a glass of water in his hands.
“Here you are, Princess. Are you alright?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, having completely forgotten. I coughed twice for good measure as I took the glass. “Thank you, Charles. You’re a life saver.”
~
Evergreen was really a misnomer.
There wasn’t an evergreen tree in sight.
What lay before me instead was an entire island of sandy white beaches, colorful large sun umbrellas, and the occasional palm tree with large coconuts dangling above our heads. It was a nice change from the sprawling forests and mountainous landscape back home. The resort that we were staying at was relatively quiet considering we were in the middle of peak vacation times. It was an exclusive place, and ridiculously expensive, which might have explained the lack of tourists. I couldn’t complain, though. In fact, I was delighted. There was less of a chance of being recognized and spotted this way.
The inside of the resort was the epitome of lavish. It was almost as beautiful as the grand hall back home. Everything was chic and modern, marble statues and golden accent pieces reminding me more of a fancy museum than a beach resort. The warm sunlight pouring in from the front lobby’s massive glass windows reflected off of the white walls and white floors.
I almost went blind.
“This place is amazing!” Oliver cheered, happily dragging Brandon along by the hand. He’d somehow convinced Brandon to dress in matching blue Hawaiian t-shirts.
“Are you sure it’s alright that we’re here?” Brandon asked for the millionth time.
I nodded. “I want you guys here because you two are probably my closest friends.”
“Probably?” questioned Oliver. “I don’t know if I should feel offended.”
I giggled. “You shouldn’t.”
The automatic sliding doors to the front lobby swept open. Charles and his team of three other highly trained, incredibly deadly and strong bodyguards walked in carrying our heavy suitcases and bags. I really wanted to be here without a security detail, but in their presence was inevitable. I argued long and hard with my parents to reduce the number of guards that had to follow me around, noting that keeping a group of twenty burly men around me would only create more problems than solutions.
Chalk it up to my fantastic negotiation skills, because I managed to ween the group of twenty bodyguards down to four.
“Princess Marina,” huffed Charles. He looked overheated in that bulky suit of his. A thick, shiny layer of sweat dampened his brow. “Shall we take these to your rooms?”
“I can take those for you, actually,” said a bellhop, who’d been standing just off to the side.
I breathed a sigh of relief. If Rodrigo was already here, I really didn’t want to explain why his things were already in the room he’d reserved. That was a can of worms I didn’t want to have open.
I put on a cheerful smile and clapped my hands together. “Why don’t we all get settled and meet up for dinner later? I’m sure we’re all tired after that flight.”
“I have to inspect your room first, Princess,” said Charles, as stern as usual.
Oliver happened to catch my eyes. We were on the same wavelength, he and I. “Oh, come on,” he complained on my behalf. “We’re, like, a million miles away, Mr. Bodyguard. There’s no need to keep the Princess from her beauty rest, is there?”
“I’m simply doing my job, Mr. Smith.”
“This was a last-minute thing,” Oliver continued. “The chances that someone managed to book a flight before us, locate the Princess’ room, somehow rig it with hidden cameras or bombs or whatever it is you think you need to look out for is highly unlikely. Just let the poor girl relax, you’re stressing her out. Hell. You’re stressing me out.”
I seriously didn’t think grumpy old Charles would actually give up so easily. In all fairness, he did look exhausted. Even I had to admit I was finding it a little difficult to stay awake, thanks to the shift in time zones. Back home in Brooklandia, it would have been right around midnight. Here in Evergreen, we were a whole twelve hours ahead.
“Very well,” said Charles. I thought I saw him stifle a yawn. “Shall I at least escort you to your room, Princess?”
Before I had a chance to say anything, Oliver hooked his arm in mine. “No need!” he said, grinning wide. “I’ll take care of her, old buddy. Don’t you worry about a thing. She’s safe with us.” He turned to look at Brandon. “Right, babe?”
“Uh, yeah. Right,” he mumbled.
After chatting the front desk receptionist’s ear off, we finally received our key cards. A few of them were bashful when meeting me, blushing and energetically whispering amongst themselves. I was gracious and courteous to them, though I did my best to keep my nerves in check. I was this close to seeing Rodrigo again. I could hardly stand all of this waiting around.
I was given a keycard to the executive suite on the top floor of the hotel, which could only be accessed through an elevator intended for VIP guests. Oliver, Brandon, and the rest of my security crew were all on the floor below me. It was nice to know the chances of running into people was slim. The fewer people who knew that I was here, the better.
Especially if Rodrigo was here too.
I didn’t know why I kept thi
nking ‘if.’ Somewhere deep down in my heart, I doubted everything to be true. What if he wasn’t actually here? It’d been months since I’d seen him last. What if something happened to his flight, or he couldn’t make it, or–
The elevator door dinged as it slid open. Oliver patted me on the back as I stepped inside.
“Good luck getting to sleep,” he whispered to me.
Brandon looked confused. “Why does she need luck for?”
Oliver winked at him playfully in an attempt to throw him off. “Because we’re going to be too busy keeping the whole floor awake tonight.”
I had to hand it to Oliver. He was one smooth liar. As Brandon’s face turned bright red, I knew I couldn’t laugh. I was too nervous. I had a feeling if Brandon knew the real reason why we were here, he’d flip. He didn’t exactly see Rodrigo in the best of lights. Though, at this point, his opinion hardly mattered to me. All I cared about was seeing Rodrigo again, to hell with whatever everybody else thought. Rodrigo wasn’t the one behind the insurrection. He’d never want to do me any harm. He cared for me.
Maybe he’d even fallen for me.
I willed the butterflies in my stomach to calm down as I pressed the button to the top floor, watching the silver elevator doors slide closed.
As the elevator’s motors whirred, pulling the car higher and higher, I wondered if the air was getting thinner. It was suddenly an impossible task to breathe. The anticipation was enough to kill me. My palms were clammy, and my fingers were cold. The bubbly feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn’t light and exciting, but heavy and overwhelming. Every muscle fiber in my body was taut, shaking. I couldn’t stop shivering, even though it was incredibly hot outside.
I finally arrived at my floor. Taking a step into the hall, my footing was incredibly unstable. It was like stepping into putty, every step forward sinking beneath me. I made it to the big, solid door at the end of the hall and brought my key card up to the reader just above the doorknob. I paused, remained as silent as a mouse. Maybe if I was quiet enough, I could hear Rodrigo inside. Leaning forward slightly, I strained to hear.
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