by Ellie Hall
“I thought you said something about six months,” Ava said, turning to the queen as the meaning caught up to her.
She shrugged like a month and six were roughly the same thing. “I’m still familiarizing myself with all the details of Concordian law and this little detail slipped through.”
“Do you mean this little detail of me getting married or else I lose my title?”
“Not just your title, you lose everything.” Beatriz’s lips dipped into a frown. “Including me as your guardian. That means you’d be on your own. A commoner. We’d only be able to see each other by appointment per the laws of my country.” Beatriz, a stolid woman who was practiced in masking emotion, blinked her eyes a few times as though the notion saddened her.
Ava hadn’t realized she was holding her breath and let out a long exhale. Rarely, was she at a loss for words. She studied the eyelet table cloth. Actually, she wasn’t at a loss for words. She used the one her nannies said was her very first word. “No.”
“No?” Oliver asked.
“No, I won’t do it. Oliver, you’re king. Can’t you just change the rules? Strike it from the record. Surely, we can figure out a way for me not to get married, retain my title as a princess, and I can go on my merry way.”
“I can’t just go changing things around for your benefit. This is in place to protect the throne. You know full well that in Concordia the king and queen come as a pair. That’s the way it’s always been. It’s a safety measure and a practical way to always have two leaders available to pick up slack for the other during difficult seasons. Two minds to meet and agree upon things. A team. It’s a great gift enacted by our ancestors.” Oliver’s words were as dense as the Concordian mountain range.
“It feels more like a punishment,” Ava retorted. She was in a full-on pout, which everyone who knew her understood only led to one thing: debate. To Ava, debate was like a sport she prided herself on always winning.
Oliver probably anticipated this. “Believe me, I've looked into changing the rules. If I did so, I'd also have to step down because it would be a grievous display of nepotism. I can’t favor you just because I feel like it. We, the former king and queen's children, come as a pair. Father didn't have siblings so he didn't have to deal with this. But if anything ever happened to me and Penny that would mean you'd step into the position as queen. You're like my Deputy Prime Minister, my Vice President. My VIP VP.”
He was trying to make light of the situation, but she felt shocked, bowled over, confused. On the one hand, losing her title meant freedom. She could go and do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. She’d lose her title, which wasn’t of utmost importance. Rather, losing her relationship to Beatriz and Oliver, along with the rest of the cast of palace characters—as she’d come to think of them—was devastating. Not to mention she was loyal to Oliver, to her country and took pride in being of service, helping those in need, and contributing in a positive way.
“Well, I’m not feeling very important,” she mumbled, struggling with what to do.
“Just don't try to kill me off so you can take the throne.” Oliver barely smiled at his own joke.
Ava quickly shifted from glum over the news to seeking a solution. “What would happen if I declined and something—?”
“If you decline marriage and something happens to me the throne would sit empty again. I couldn’t stand doing that to the people.”
“After the untimely death of your parents, the Concordian King and Queen, the custom was for the throne to remain empty and the country in mourning for the combined number of years the royals had served. It wasn’t until that time was up, could the heir, Oliver, be married and be crowned,” Beatriz explained though it was hardly necessary.
Ava knew all of that and she’d done the math plenty of times. Oliver became king at age thirty. Then she calculated something else. “Wait, so if you produce an heir, I can get out of this?”
“We only have a month, Ava,” Oliver said, wiping his brow. That heaviness seemed to settle over him again.
“There is an alternative and it’s...” Beatriz trailed off. “I’ve had my best people on this. We found Emma and Penny so it’s not out of the realm of possibility that there are other potential successors. We haven’t confirmed it one-hundred percent, but there might be another relation...”
Ava listened intently.
“And she isn’t exactly friendly...” Leave it to the queen to throw a wrench into the works.
“So you sought out an adversary?”
“I couldn’t ignore the possibility when exploring the family tree, but she was keen on the possibility too and has since targeted us.” Beatriz slid a folder to Ava.
She opened the flap and on top was a photo of Genevieve Dickerson of Flushington.
“I suppose we shouldn’t have made an enemy out of her.” The queen clicked her tongue.
Ava steamed with anger. “Why’d you have to go and make an enemy out of her?” she spat at Oliver.
“I’m pretty sure you took part in that as well,” he countered.
The siblings bickered over whose fault it was they’d gotten on Genevieve’s bad side.
Beatriz smoothed the panels of her royal blue suit jacket. “I, for one, have no problem admitting that I dismissed her from the castle. Be that as it may, if she proves to be a direct relation, she’ll have the opportunity to rule Concordia. That is, if something happens to Oliver and Penny, heaven forbid.”
“Knowing Genevieve, if she were queen she’d probably hire a mobster to kill you off,” Ava said, no longer upset with Oliver but wanting to protect him. “She’d probably redirect institutional spending to her jewelry collection.”
“And educational allocations to her own personal vacation fund.”
The siblings stifled laughter.
“It would be a disaster, which is why we need to find you a suitable husband,” Beatriz said gravely.
“So if I marry, I can keep my title but still have no power.” Because Oliver was the firstborn, Ava was essentially a princess in title only. However, because Beatriz became her guardian, she’d lived a royal life in London, complete with privileges and responsibilities.
“But if I died...”
“Stop talking about if you die,” Ava said.
“It’s just a precaution, but we couldn’t have the people without their ruler again. I don’t want that for them. Nor do I want someone who doesn’t understand the requirements of the leadership role stepping in and bungling up what we’ve worked hard for in Concordia. Not just anyone is qualified to lead one of the wealthiest nations in the world, especially not Genevieve.”
“If she proves to be a relation,” Beatriz added.
“And I am qualified?” Ava asked.
“You’d do a better job than me,” Oliver grumbled.
Beatriz clicked her tongue again. “That’s debatable. Ava has a tendency to wander.”
Ava’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by that turn in the conversation.
“Of course, I know about your solo trips, including backpacking around southeast Asia and your forays without minders, security, or any of the precautions a princess is obligated to take.” Beatriz’s expression was pinched.
Ava’s jaw had started to lower, but she pressed her lips into a thin line, hiding her shock. She should’ve known the queen would have been wise to her adventures.
“Unless you have an eligible nobleman in mind, we will arrange courtship as we did for your brother.” Beatriz pushed her teacup away.
Ten kinds of protests were on Ava’s tongue, but as if on cue, Penny walked into the room.
The line around Oliver’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “It worked out for us.” He got to his feet and embraced his queen.
Almost low enough for only Penny to hear, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
Penny gave a small and private smile.
“Yes, it worked out for you, but you fell in love,” Ava said.
“Maybe you will
too.”
She had been in love once.
Unable to bear the news and what it meant a moment longer, she rushed from the room. The scent of something baking drew her down the hall. As if she were twelve years old all over again, she ducked into a secret passage that led to the palace kitchen. It was then that things were easier, less complicated. However, that had all changed when she’d fallen in love and had her heart broken.
There was only one solution when feeling troubled. Chocolate.
As she emerged from the passage and into the corridor adjacent to the kitchens, the outline of a tall man with broad shoulders filled the doorway. Even with his back facing away from her direction, she’d have recognized anywhere the tilt of his head and that particular lean of his with crossed arms. But she certainly wasn’t expecting him, not then and not there.
She blinked her eyes a few times to let them adjust from the dim light of the secret passage. It was like she was seeing a ghost. Or maybe a ghoul aware of her past haunted her. Perhaps someone privy to the news she’d received and what it meant for her future decided to prank her. Unlikely.
But it couldn’t be him.
She’d been in love.
He was the one.
She’d waited for him.
He’d betrayed her.
As he slowly turned in her direction, she froze. It wasn’t a ghost or a prankster.
It was Henry Park.
He was very much alive because only his handsome face could make her chest swell and her blood boil in equal measure.
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Acknowledgments
A special Texas-sized thanks to my family, friends, writer buddies, and readers for helping me bring the Only Us world to life. Dear husband for answering random questions (Please name a fancy sports car?), friends for tolerating my daydreaming (What should my main character’s job be?), writer buddies (Help, I’m stuck in a plot hole!), and thanks to readers for being amazing—especially the Ellie Hall reading group (Deanna, here are the personal hand pies I promised!).
Oh, and thank you for checking out Only Forever with a Billionaire!
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About the Author
Ellie Hall loves puppies, books, and the ocean. She writes sweet romance with lots of firsts and fizzy feels. Oh, and she loves tea in the morning and pizza for dinner. She believes in dreaming big, working hard, and lazy Sunday afternoons spent with her family and dog in gratitude for God's grace.
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