by B. E. Baker
My heart hammers in my chest.
“How would you feel about discussing details over dinner?”
“This would be our first date?” I ask.
“I guess it would.” His head dips toward mine.
“Would there be kissing on this date?”
His eyes smolder. “Oh, I hope so.”
I go up on my tiptoes until our lips are nearly touching. “Alright.”
We find some decent fish stew, and then we find a bakery and I introduce him to the plum tarts. And there is definitely more kissing. All in all, a perfect first date. Cole walks me back to my room and when I open the door, he braces his arm against the frame. “I should go. You have a show tomorrow and you need your sleep.”
“I do,” I say. “But I don’t want you to leave yet.”
He touches my nose with his index finger. “Then that means I did this right.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say softly.
“You didn’t want to see me?”
“I wanted you to figure out that I was in Europe,” I say. “And I wanted you not to figure it out.”
His eyebrows draw together. “I speak three languages, but I don’t imagine that what you said would make more sense in German or Dutch than it does in English.”
I laugh. “Pretty sure the language I’m speaking right now is ‘girl.’ I have a hard enough time making sense of it most days, but I think I wanted you to do something, to make an effort. That’s the part of me that hoped you’d figure it out.”
“I tried,” he protests. “I asked you to stay, I practically begged you to date me.”
“But I didn’t have a chance to agree to that,” I say. “And months later, when I was finally free to do as I chose again, you hadn’t texted or called me in months.”
“I was trying to give you space,” he says.
“I thought maybe you didn’t want me unless I was somebody,” I whisper. “And I desperately wanted you to want Beth Graham, not Elizabeth Gauvón. That’s the part of me that didn’t want you to figure it out.”
He steps inside the door and wraps both arms around me. He pulls me tightly and whispers against my ear. “I’ve been starstruck by you since the first time I heard you play, but you’ve been someone to me a lot longer than that. You could walk away from your career in music today and I wouldn’t mind, as long as that decision made you happy. I’ve seen you on stage, and you’re alive in a different way than when you’re eating dinner with friends. I thought you needed that in your life and were turning away from fear.”
“I was never afraid I’d fail,” I say.
Cole leans back to meet my eye. “I know that, silly.”
“What fear, then?”
“Fear that you’d turn into your mother.”
I inhale sharply. I never even realized that was my fear, not until this very moment, but somehow he knew. That is what held me back.
“You never needed to worry about that,” he says.
“How can you possibly know that?”
“Your mother might have turned out better if she had better parents. She may have endured tough breaks, or hard relationships, I don’t know. But I know that there’s no world in which your mother would have chosen not to go to Juilliard because her family needed her.”
He might be right. “I’ve learned since then that there are a multitude of ways to reach for your dreams, and if a roadblock arises, you should simply locate another path.”
Cole beams at me. “You’re nothing like Henrietta. You’re so much better. You inspired me too, honestly.”
I lift my eyebrows. “How?”
“I talked to my dad and mom.” He releases me and steps backward, leaning against the doorframe again. “You were right. They forgave me for helping Noel.”
A weight I didn’t realize I was carrying lifts from my heart. “I’m so relieved. I wondered whether that was bad advice. I knew what my parents would do, but I don’t know yours very well.”
“Yet.” Cole’s sideways grin gets me every time. “And that wasn’t even the only good advice you gave me,” he says. “I also decided to fight for my country.”
I swallow. “You didn’t.”
He nods. “We’ve had a few rallies, and collected nearly thirty thousand signatures from the citizens, which is close to eighty-five percent of the adults.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“We have no idea whether it will work, mind you,” he says. “But at least I didn’t give up without trying every single thing that I could.”
“When will you know?”
“The family is gathering to vote again on Monday morning.”
“And you’ll tell them that if they don’t sign, the people will vote to dissolve the monarchy?”
He nods. “Even so.”
“Will you really do it?”
Cole leans his head against the doorframe, his face pained. “I want to—I’m almost angry enough. But I think that Franz would be a decent ruler, and there’s more consistency in a monarch than there is with a democracy where the leadership is always changing. I believe that’s one of the reasons that tiny little Liechtenstein has done so well. So, no. If it comes to that, I won’t. But the family needs to believe that I will.”
“I’m off for two days—Monday and Tuesday. I could come, if you want me there.”
Cole straightens and takes my hand in his. “Actually, I wanted to ask. I have an idea of a way that you might be able to help. But first, I need to know something.”
“What?”
“This vote matters to me,” he says. “A lot. I’ve always wished this could be my future and never thought it was even an option. But the more I think about it, even with as close as I am to finally getting what I’ve longed for, something has bothered me.”
“Okay,” I say.
“You.”
“What?” Me? What do I have to do with this?
“You matter more to me than ruling Liechtenstein. My entire life, I’ve always thought that the palace didn’t feel quite like home because I wasn’t Dad’s son. When he adopted me, I expected that to go away. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I’ve realized that for me, home is where I feel safe. It’s where I feel heard. It’s where I know that the person I’m with is looking out for my best interests, and I’ve only felt that in one place in my entire life. Only once have I ever felt completely at home.”
“Where?” I ask.
“It’s not really a where,” he says. “It’s more of a ‘with whom.’”
“It is?”
He nods slowly. “When I’m texting you, when I’m talking to you, and especially when I’m with you, I’m finally home. So I need to know, would you ever consider living in Liechtenstein?”
“I—”
“I’m not proposing. I’m aware this is our first real date. But if you don’t think you could ever leave Atlanta for more than a tour, then I’m going to shred the petitions. I’ll look for a job in the USA, and I promise you that I’ll never blame you for it. Because more important than being prince, more important than being in the place where I grew up, is being with the woman I love.”
My breath catches in my throat. My entire body tingles. “I love you too, Cole. And I don’t care where we live. When I went back to Atlanta, it didn’t feel like home to me either, not anymore. I think maybe my compass reset, because my new true North is you, too.”
When he kisses me this time, I never want to let him go.
20
Cole
When Beth walks down the curved staircase in the palace, she takes my breath away. After she reaches my side, once my brain starts to work again, I realize she’s wearing a suit that she could have borrowed from my mother.
“I promise not to ever provide input on what you wear, ever again,” I say. “But this one time, can I ask you to change into something else?”
She lifts one eyebrow.
“Remember my plan?” I ask.
S
he nods.
“It might be more. . . effective if you dressed for the part.”
“What exactly would that look like?”
“Well, that handkerchief sparkle thing you wore to the concert sends a clear message.”
“The one that’s backless?” she asks. “The one I pair with leather pants? That one?”
I shrug. “You could wear normal jeans with it.”
She laughs. “It’s your event. I’m happy to wear whatever your serene highness needs.”
“Say that again.” I yank her closer and kiss her firmly. This thing between us is new enough that I still marvel every time she leans in for a kiss. My life felt imbalanced until I met her. It’s new and exciting, and it’s familiar and comfortable all at once.
“I’ll go change,” she says.
By the time Mom and Dad are ready, Beth’s coming down the stairs again in tight, dark jeans and the American flag sequin handkerchief shirt. When I saw her wearing that in Luxembourg, I nearly lost the ability to think straight. Mom’s mouth drops open when she sees her, and when I glance back at Dad, even he’s squinting.
“Is your shirt lighting up?” he asks.
Beth laughs. “Your son told me to wear this. It’s one of the tops I wear for concerts. You can take up any objections you may have with him.”
Mom turns toward me. “Why—”
“You’ll see,” I say.
To my surprise, neither Mom nor Dad argue. They simply load up in my Range Rover. “Your sister is going to have her baby any day,” Mom says. “So while I hope this goes well, either way, I’m headed for America. Soon.”
“I understand, Mom. And if it goes badly, I might be following you over.”
Beth reaches across the dash and puts her hand on my leg. “I doubt it.”
This time I don’t arrive early. I don’t schmooze anyone. I walk through the door, Beth at my side, and march to the front of the room. I tap the microphone. “I’d like to thank you all for coming to Vaduz a second time. I know that none of you want to be here, so I’ll get right to the point. I asked nicely the last time you were here, for you to get on board and fix two of the injustices in the House Law. You refused.”
I glance back at Beth, who’s standing just behind me. She shoots me a thumbs up.
“I’m here today with the support of over thirty thousand of the Liechtenstein citizens, all of whom have promised to dissolve the monarchy if you refuse to make these changes. Should they do that, your responsibility for governing them will be removed from your hands. And if you want to challenge me on this, go ahead. I’ll dissolve the monarchy and serve as Prime Minister for as long as the people will have me. And as soon as they won’t, well. My sister already lives in Atlanta, and my girlfriend is from there. I have a wealth of options yawning before me, as you can see, but you’ll all have to figure out how to move in society without the prince in front of your names.”
I step backward and take Beth’s hand in mine.
“So I’m the wild American girl who has stolen your heart?” She cocks one eyebrow.
“It’s true enough,” I say.
“I’m pretty sure you delivered that heart to me of your own accord,” she says. “And it certainly had nothing to do with my wild, rock star ways.”
“I meant it, you know.”
“You’ll really move to Atlanta,” she says. “I know you would, but I don’t think it’ll come to that.”
“You sound disappointed.” I glance down at her face.
“Well.” Her voice is wistful. “I will miss baseball games and hotdogs.”
I laugh. “Private jet. There’s no reason for you to miss anything for very long, if you agree to live over here near me.”
More quickly than I think is possible, it’s time for my dad to count the votes. Adrian, the Prime Minister, steps in to help, since Dad can’t really see.
“For someone who doesn’t care what happens, you’re sure holding my hand tightly,” Beth says.
I scowl at her, because she’s right.
“We’ve tallied all the votes,” Adrian says. “And I’m pleased to announce that all but two dynasts have voted to amend the House Law.”
I swing Beth around in a circle and kiss her on her gorgeous mouth. A press conference and a lot of mingling and congratulations later, we finally climb back into my Range Rover.
“Strange question,” Beth says.
“Anything,” I say.
“I haven’t noticed any salons in town. Do you know how stiff the competition here is?”
I laugh. I like her line of thought. “I have a barber. I can ask him.”
“Why is that so funny?”
“You’ve been performing for audiences of thousands and you want to know whether you can find a job here cutting hair.”
She quirks one eyebrow. “Who said anything about a job? I’ve got money now, sir. I’m thinking about what my future with you will look like,” she says. “And there might be some performing, and a salon, or a chain of salons, in it.”
“Well, when you put it like that. . .” I pull over on the side of the road, glad that Roger took my parents home, and kiss her until she has a few other ideas of what our future will entail. Because thanks to her, everything I always hoped for is coming true. “I think that whatever future you envision is probably within your grasp. Just make sure that I’m a part of it.”
Because a future with her is the only future I want.
21
Beth
The tour is so much harder to endure now, because it means not being with Cole every day. That wasn’t an option before, but now that it is, I yearn for it. He comes to as many performances as he can, but he can’t make it to all of them. Besides, it’s not quite the same to know he’s sitting in the midst of a few thousand other people as it is to have dinner and talk to the person I love most in all the world.
Even so, I love meeting new fans. I love singing. I love connecting with them and conveying my emotions through the keys of a piano. I’m constantly surprised by how many fans have traveled to see me perform again, on the same tour in a new place.
I’m still glad when the tour bus pulls into our very last stop—Vaduz. Jonathan gets out and stretches. “Your one stipulation for this tour was that we play here?” His nose scrunches and his eyes reflect disbelief.
“Um, my boyfriend is the Regent—a hereditary prince of Liechtenstein.”
“Yeah, yeah, the ruler of all the sheep we passed, and almost fifty people, too.”
I swat his arm. Making fun of Cole is one of his favorite pastimes, mostly because Cole intimidates him. “Go start working out the details. We don’t have much time.”
When I turn, Jostli’s sprinting across the pedestrian mall toward me. “Beth Graham!” he shouts. He barely avoids running me over, and I’m genuinely worried for a few seconds that he’ll crush me with his broad shoulders and beefy arms, but it’s nice to be welcomed. It’s nice to belong somewhere.
“I’m happy to be back,” I say.
“Today is the last day of your tour?” He lifts his eyebrows.
“Don’t even ask me about playing anything or anywhere else right now,” I say. “I’m exhausted.”
“You didn’t say not to ask you next week,” he says. “I hope you’ll still be here.”
I chuckle. “Me too.”
“Our prince is a very wise man. He will not let you go.”
The next few hours fly past, and too soon, it’s time for me to change clothes. After performing for a few thousand people a night, I assume the eighteen hundred that have purchased tickets here will feel small. When I walk up onto the stage they’ve built for me, I’m surprised to see an instrument I recognize.
I turn back and look down the stairs to where Cole is waiting in a makeshift backstage area.
“That’s your Grand Fazioli Brunei! You moved it out here just for this?”
“It’s a concert piano that’s never been used for a concert. It seemed an obvio
us call.”
I glance up at the open sky. “What if it rains?”
He laughs. “It was either that, or Jostli’s piano from the Adler.”
“Oh, fine.” I walk across the stage to the microphone and pick it up. “I can’t tell you how honored I am to be here, in Vaduz, the first place I ever played my own songs in front of anyone other than my mom’s cat. I haven’t been here long, but I have a deep and abiding love of the people of Liechtenstein.”
I have to pause until the applause dies down.
“As you all know, the funds from this tour will go to pay for my boyfriend’s dyslexia program. I want to thank you all sincerely for making that possible as well.”
More cheers.
“I’m inspired in my music by so many things, but I wanted to start tonight with a song I wrote right here, about the beauty of the Alps, the majesty of your town, and the welcoming smiles of the townsfolk.” I sit down and set the microphone in the stand. My fingers settle over the keys and I begin to play.
But instead of the mellow sounds that should emerge from the Fazioli, it plinks. Plink. Plink. Plonk.
My eyes widen with horror, and I lean toward the microphone stand. “Small technical issue.” I stand up and look back over my shoulder, hoping one of my useless crew members will come up and try to help me. After all, I can’t communicate with the fans if I’m digging around inside the piano case.
Not a single soul moves toward me. I’m totally alone up here, looking like a total amateur. I duck under the cover and look around. It’s immediately obvious what’s causing the problem. I grab the mic and then reach for the box that’s jammed inside. “I think during transit, somehow, something was stuck. Once I remove it, hopefully. . .”
The box is small, really small, but even so, the piano technician should have noticed it was there. What kind of idiot— When I straighten up, Cole is on stage, down on one knee.
The audience goes wild.
“I know that technically I’m cutting into your time here,” he says into a second microphone, clearly addressing the audience. “But I was hoping you could help me with something.”
