Royal Holiday

by McKenna James

  “If you really wanted to kill him, there are easier ways to do it. You could have sliced his neck open, stabbed him in the chest. But you got him in the arm. That’s hardly lethal.”

  “Maybe I’m just not as adept in fighting as I like to believe.”

  “You were friends once,” I said firmly. “Like you said, people do stupid things when they’ve been ignored long enough.”

  Something akin to shame and embarrassment flashed across the Senator’s face. I couldn’t help but pity him. The kind and gentle man I remembered was still in there somewhere, hidden beneath a cloak of treachery for the sake of survival. I knew the Senator couldn’t be all bad.

  “You said you needed advice,” he mumbled. “About what?”

  I swallowed. “It’s about your son,” I said, heartbeats picking up speed.

  “Rodrigo? What about him?”

  “I need a third option. And I think you’re just the person to help me find it.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Rodrigo

  One month later

  I wasn’t adjusting as well as I hoped I would. Mother seemed to be doing alright, all things considered. Maybe that was why I felt a sting of jealousy every time I came home from my morning lectures. Things almost seemed normal at home. I found her humming quietly to herself in the kitchen as she prepared lunch. It was a happy little tune, an old Brooklandian nursery song.

  It made me awfully homesick to hear.

  I placed my backpack down on the kitchen table, alerting Mother of my presence. She did a little hop, startled.

  “How was class?” she asked chipperly. Being away from Brooklandia had done wonders for her mood. She was almost like her old self again, before all the politics and power struggle morphed into something unrecognizable.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “It was okay.”

  “Hungry? I made goulash with sausage. Your favorite!”

  I forced a smile. “Thank you, Mother.”

  She placed a big bowl of goulash on the table before me and ruffled my hair. She used to make this exact dish for me and Marina when we were children. When the weather was cold outside, she’d not only prepare this special meal, but she’d make us a big mug of hot cocoa topped with fluffy whipped cream. It was a weird combination of flavors, but it was my favorite as a little boy.

  Now hot chocolate just gave me a stomachache.

  I looked about the apartment as I ate. Mother had gone all out to decorate it. She managed to score a job as a private tutor for a couple students attending St. George’s Preparatory School for Boys, having used my old classmate connections. The pay was fairly impressive, considering the scandal surrounding my family name. Mother handled herself well, though, never accepting a pay rate less than what she deserved.

  I was having a much harder time. My fellow classmates at law school were all incredibly adept and knowledgeable. Most of them had heard of about the failed rebellion, about how the Sabatinos were disgraced. I did my best to ignore the gossip, focused on my work. I had to take things day by day, concentrate on the tasks at hand instead of succumbing to the rumors. I didn’t like the unnecessary attention, but what could I do?

  Oliver had texted me a couple times since I’d left. It was pretty standard stuff, asking how I was doing and whatnot. I tried putting on a brave face, told him I was doing fine.

  But that was the furthest thing from the truth.

  I felt like part of me was missing, like my organs were all mixed up and in the wrong place. I just felt displaced, both figuratively and literally. The fact that I was never going to go back to Brooklandia weighed heavily on me. It meant I’d never see her again, and I didn’t know if I could handle the pain.

  Some days were worse than others. I’d start awake, breaking into a cold sweat every time I dreamed about Marina. My dreams were never particularly eventful. It was just the image of her in my mind’s eye that left me feeling absolutely heartbroken. It was like my soul was torn, shredded into a million little pieces. I was really starting to understand those stories about old married couples who’d die within days of each other. The loneliness I was living through—it was just too much.

  “How is it?” asked Mother, a smile upon her lips.

  “Good,” I mumbled quietly.

  My mother didn’t say anything, but I could see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side.

  “Are you feeling alright? You look a little ill. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

  “I’m fine, Mother.”

  Unconvinced, she pressed on. “I ran into a very nice young lady at the supermarket today.”

  “Mhmm,” I mumbled, not really paying attention. I teased a piece of sauce-drenched macaroni onto one of the tines of my fork.

  “I told her about you. She gave me her number, if you’re interested.”

  Her words just weren’t registering in my mind. “Mhmm,” I mumbled again. “That’s nice, Mother.”

  She walked over slowly and sat down beside me at the table. “You didn’t hear a word of that, did you?”

  “What?” I asked, snapping to. “Oh, um… No, thanks. I’m not really interested in seeing anyone right now.” It’s too soon. I’m not ready. “Final exams are around the corner. I have to study.” I’m not ready to move on.

  Mother placed a hand on my forearm. Her touch was gentle, alarmingly so. I wasn’t used to this kind of affection. I looked to her, confused to see her brows knitted together and her lips pressed into a thin, pensive line. I recognized the pity in her eyes and hated every second of it.

  “You weren’t kidding,” she whispered. “When you said you loved the Princess. You weren’t kidding, were you?”

  I swallowed and shook my head. “I don’t feel like having this conversation,” I said. It’s too hard.

  Mother opened and closed her mouth, like she was about to say something but decided against it. She patted me once more on the forearm before getting up again, returning to the kitchen to dish herself some lunch.

  At that exact moment, three sharp knocks sounded at the front door.

  “I think that’s Mrs. Wilson. She said she was going to drop off some of her cookies. Will you get that, dear?”

  I nodded and rose from my seat, maneuvering around the grey leather couch in the living room to get to the front door. I opened it wide, fully expecting to see a little old woman with a head of grey hair.

  Instead, someone wrapped their arms around my neck and flung themselves at me, throwing me off balance. I landed on my back in the entrance hallway, too stunned to speak. My heart leaped into my throat and lodged itself there as the familiar scent of rose perfume hit my nose, and the gentle glow of blindingly bright blonde hair swept before my eyes. I had to be dreaming. There was no way this was real. Maybe I tripped down the steps of the lecture hall’s presentation atrium and hit my head, and now I was hallucinating.

  “M-Marina?” I breathed.

  She pulled away, smiling bright and giggling. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and the corners of her eyes were crinkling. She laughed giddily before she leaned down to kiss me. Her lips were so soft and cloud-like that I barely registered the kiss. I was definitely hallucinating because this was too good to be true.

  I didn’t dare touch her. I was scared that if I put my hands on her waist, if I tried to kiss her back, I’d go right through her like smoke.

  “Hi,” she said shakily, voice brimming with excitement. “Miss me?”

  I stared at her for an eternity, mouth hanging open in a mix of confusion and shock. Slowly, I raised a hand and brushed my fingers over her cheek. She didn’t disappear like I thought she would.

  “You’re really here,” I whispered in disbelief. “What are… How?” We both scrambled to our feet, but we didn’t part. Her arms were still circled around my neck as I hesitantly wrapped my arms around her waist. I shook my head. “You can’t be here. What about your guards?”


  “I ditched them a few blocks back,” she said with pride.

  “Marina, I can’t– They’ll throw me back in jail if they catch me with you.”

  “They wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the Prince Consort,” she said, giving me a cheeky smile.

  “Prince Consort? What are you talking about?”

  “You asked me to marry you once,” she said softly. “Is that offer still on the table? Did you mean it?”

  I nodded slowly, still confused out of my mind. “Yes. I mean, of course. But I–”

  “If we’re married, my father can’t have you arrested. It’s bad for optics.”

  “Optics? You sound like a politician.”

  She crinkled her nose adorably. “I may or may not have consulted your father before coming here.”

  “Father? What? How? My head hurts.”

  Marina laughed a brilliant, beautiful laugh. If I really was dreaming, I didn’t ever want to wake up.

  “Hello?” called my mother from the kitchen. “Rodrigo, who’s there?” She stepped out into the hall, wiping her hands dry on a kitchen towel. Mother froze in place when her eyes landed on Marina. “I– Princess? What are you doing here?”

  Marina let go of me and walked up to my mother, taking her hands in her own. “Mrs. Sabatino, I’ve… I’ve come to ask for your son’s hand in marriage. I know you and my parents have been at odds for quite some time, but I urge you not to think about them.”

  “You… You want to marry my son?”

  Marina nodded adamantly, hope sparkling in her eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Sabatino. I love him. I’ve loved him for a long time. I want nothing more than to be with him for the rest of my days. And if our families unite, that’s a bonus.” She let out a shaky breath and put on a sweet smile. “I know this is a lot to process, but it’s the truth. I have no ill intentions, I swear. I want to marry Rodrigo, grow old with him, cherish him. And I’d really love it if I could have your blessing.”

  Mother looked to me, and then to Marina, and then back to me. Her disorientation was almost palpable. For a second, I was genuinely afraid of what her reaction would be. I couldn’t tell if Mother was seconds away from striking Marina across the face, or if she was going to burst into a fit of laughter and send her away.

  Luckily, she did neither.

  “Okay,” she said quietly.

  “What?” I gawked.

  “I give you my blessing to marry my son.”

  “Are you being serious, Mother?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m serious. It’s clear how much you two love each other. And I was getting tired of your moping around.”

  Marina skipped back to me and hugged me tightly. “You were moping around?”

  “No,” I lied. “Maybe.”

  “Just because I gave you my blessing, doesn’t mean your parents will,” noted Mother. “Have you talked to them about this yet?”

  Marina clicked her tongue. “No. And I’m not going to. I’m going to marry Rodrigo one way or another. You could say I’m forcing their hand. I’ll deal with them when I get back.”

  I chuckled, breathless and light. “You’re amazing,” I realized aloud. I mean, I always knew that Marina was amazing, but her boldness cemented the fact in my mind. Cupping her face in my hands, I kissed her hard. It was so natural to feel her warm, soft lips against mine. I’d never tire of her sweet perfume, nor would I ever find comfort in a person’s warmth other than her own. “Let’s do it,” I said. “Let’s get married.”

  Marina giggled, smiling brighter than the sun. “Where’s city hall?”

  “You want to get married at city hall?” I asked. “Don’t you want a big wedding with cake and guests and a dress?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t care. I don’t need any of that. As long as I get to be with you, we could go to Vegas for all I care and do one of those drive-thru marriages.”

  I laughed. “Really?”

  “I’m deadly serious.”

  “We’ll need a witness.”

  Marina turned to Mother. “Would you like to come?”

  Mother broke out into a rare smile. “Sure. I’d be honored.”

  “Fantastic! Brandon and Oliver are waiting in the car downstairs, so it’ll be a little party.”

  “Oli’s here?”

  “I kind of guilted them into coming,” she admitted.

  I held Marina as close as I could, afraid to let go. “Are you sure you want a city hall wedding? You deserve so much more.”

  Marina reached up and brushed her fingers through my hair and dragged her hand down the line of my jaw. There was nothing but love in her eyes. “I’m sure, Rodrigo. I’ve never been more certain than anything in my entire life.”

  I grinned at her. “I don’t even have a ring to give to you.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me. Just promise me one thing.”

  “Anything.”

  “No more white roses.”

  I chuckled. “Okay. I can definitely promise that.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Marina

  Bliss.

  Pure unadulterated bliss.

  When the officiant declared us husband and wife, I was over the moon. Oliver shed a tear, Brandon and Mrs. Sabatino applauded, and my security detail didn’t know what to do with themselves. I was right when I said they wouldn’t dare arrest the Prince Consort. Now that Rodrigo was officially my husband, they had to treat him with as much respect and dignity as they did with me. Poor old Charles looked both happy and like he was about to explode because he wasn’t sure what to do.

  We didn’t have an exchanging of rings. I didn’t get to wear a white dress and a pretty veil. There was no need for formal processions or inviting important guests. When I was a little girl, I thought I would want all of those things. I thought I wanted all the flowers and the flourish of trumpets announcing my arrival at some grand cathedral. The dream was to ride about the capital in a lavish golden carriage with white horses leading it around.

  But this was enough. It was more than enough. When Rodrigo kissed me for the first time as my husband, my heart was so full that it was seconds away from bursting. I didn’t need a fancy wedding or lavish afterparty. I didn’t need a massive diamond ring and a multi-tiered wedding cake. To have Rodrigo in my arms, to have him by my side always was more than I would ever need.

  We didn’t need a fancy honeymoon either.

  Rodrigo and I returned to the hotel I was staying at. This time, there wasn’t any need for sneaking around or worrying that my bodyguard would burst in and have him arrested. Rodrigo was my husband now. This time around, we were going to take our sweet time.

  We stumbled into the hotel room, our legs and arms tangling together. Rodrigo’s heated kisses left me breathless, the burning in my lungs only serving to spur me on. I’d never wanted anybody as much as I wanted him. Dragging his shirt off in a hurry, I hungrily ran my hands over his hard chest, his chiseled stomach. I dug my fingers into the muscles of his back, admiring how feverishly hot he was against my palms.

  Rodrigo was just as eager to get me out of my clothes. He pulled off my top and bent down to press his mouth to my breasts as his hands snaked around to unclasp my bra. We stumbled backward, giggling and smiling and so, so wonderfully happy. We didn’t even make it to the bed. Instead, we tumbled over the arm of the luxurious couch in the luxury suite’s living room section.

  He pinned me on my back as he made quick work of the front of his pants, his arousal undeniable. I slipped out of my pants too, throwing off my delicate lace undergarments in a hurry. Our mouths found one another easily, hasty tongues gliding together as our hot breaths mingled and ricocheted off of each other’s faces. I spread my legs for him, the wet heat there too intense to deny. I bucked into his touch, my skin tingling with electricity wherever he touched me.

  I gasped into his mouth as he entered me, snapping his hips in such a way that he passed right over my sweet spot. Hooking my legs around him to give him deeper access, I moaned agains
t him as he picked and set a rapid pace. His hard warmth within me was maddening. Rodrigo mouthed at the fair skin of my neck, sucked hard enough to leave love bites for all the world to see.

  “I love you,” he panted over and over again. “I love you, Marina.”

  “I love you too. I love you so much.”

  Our fingers were threaded together, never letting go. Rodrigo continued to thrust into me, hard and fast, eager to have me find release. Pleasure began to mount deep within my core, building with intensity until I was spilling over the edge. Bright stars scattered themselves about my vision as my whole body shuddered and jolted with pleasure. Rodrigo wasn’t that far off either. Our kisses were bruising and passionate. He sucked at my bottom lip as he spilled into me.

  We lay there in each other’s arms a sweaty, hot mess. A calm buzz filled my entire body and left me blissed out of my mind. Rodrigo rested his face in the crook of my neck as he played with my hair. In turn, I drew gentle circles into his back.

  I decided that if the world were about to end, I could at least die happy. I didn’t realize just how whole and complete Rodrigo made me feel. Now that I had him, I never wanted to let him go. The world was going to have to pry him from my arms if it wanted us apart. Who would have thought I’d end up married to one of my oldest and best friends in the entire world?

  “Hello, husband,” I whispered.

  Rodrigo chuckled. “Hello, wife.”

  “I hope you’re not too tired.”

  “Do you plan on keeping me up all night?”

  I licked my lips. “You know it.”

  “You don’t have to return to Brooklandia any time soon, do you? I don’t want to read about how I supposedly kidnapped you in the papers.”

  A giggle bubbled past my lips. “Don’t worry. I already wrote to my parents to tell them I was safe and what my plans were.”

  “Before you came to see me?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What if I hadn’t agreed to marry you?”

  I shot Rodrigo a quizzical look. “I was ninety-nine percent confident you’d say yes.”

  He chuckled, looking absolutely glorious as the afternoon sun shone through the crack in the curtains, painting him soft orange and gold. “You’ve never been to Allendes, have you?” he asked, suddenly realizing something.