by Renna Peak
For a moment, we just stare down at the valley and pass the thermos between us.
“I just can’t get over how beautiful it is,” she says.
My insides warm, and I know it’s from more than just the cider.
“Did I get it right?” I ask her. “This whole date thing? Granted, we’re just getting started, but I’d like to make sure I’m going in the right direction.”
She turns and looks up at me. When she doesn’t immediately answer, I look down at her and meet her gaze.
“Yes,” she says finally. “I think you’re going in the right direction.”
I want to kiss her. To pull her fully into my arms. To push her down on this bench and show her pleasure like she’s never known. But I control myself.
“Good,” I tell her, looking back out at the view.
Slowly, ready to pull back at the first hint of hesitation from her, I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer to my side. She doesn’t hesitate. In fact, she leans into me, letting her head rest against my shoulder.
I smile as a fresh wave of heat moves through me.
Maybe there is hope for us after all.
Victoria
We stare out over what must be close to the entirety of Montovia for what seems like forever. Neither of us says anything—we don’t need to. I’m pretty sure he understands the same thing I do—this is it for us. One last thing to remember each other by.
And I have to admit, it’s a pretty great date to remember.
I rest my head against his shoulder and try to commit everything about this moment to my memory. The bright, clear sky above us with more stars than I’ve ever seen in my life. The scent of pine from the nearby trees. The feel of the woolen blanket against my skin and the cold wind on my face. The sweetness of the cider I can still taste on my lips.
But mostly, I want to remember the warmth of his body pressed against mine. How I fit perfectly in his arms, even just sitting here on this bench.
I try to ignore the aching in my chest that comes as I start to think about how this is almost over. The second I acknowledge that twisting, piercing ache in my heart, this perfect moment will be over forever.
Andrew presses a kiss to my temple before I have a chance to think about it too long. “Do you know much about astronomy?”
I smile. “No. I can’t say that I do.”
He point to a cluster of stars in the sky. “There’s Aquarius. You see how it looks like someone pouring water from a bucket?”
I nod, but I can’t really tell what I’m looking at.
He moves his finger to a different point in the sky. “And there. That one is Cepheus. Do you see the triangle? And then the square below it?”
I nod again, but I’m still not sure what it is I’m supposed to be seeing.
He chuckles as he drops his arm. “I’ll have to show you on a chart another time.” He turns his head and kisses my temple again. “Would you like to go inside and see if we can’t get the Beast working? I can try and point it at Delta Cephei, one of the stars in the Cepheus constellation. It’s a fascinating star—its brightness is still how astronomers today estimate distances in space.”
I shift and look up into his eyes. “If that’s what you want to do.”
He lifts his hand to push a strand of my hair out of my eyes, trailing his finger across my cheek as he tucks it behind my ear. “That is not at all what I want to do, Victoria.” His finger lingers in my hair for a moment before he moves his hand to cup my cheek. “I can think of several things I would rather be doing right now.”
I can think of many things I would rather be doing with him, too, but I don’t want this date to be over quite so soon.
My gaze drops to the picnic basket on his other side. “Maybe we should eat?”
“Oh, the buns.” He almost groans. “They’ve probably gone cold. I…I was distracted…” He reaches over and hands me what looks like a large wrapped dinner roll. “The palace chef makes these each evening. They’re somewhat of a specialty. And after I saw how much you enjoyed the pastries in Salzburg this morning, I thought you would like these. I apologize that I left them out in the cold for so long—”
“I’m sure it will be delicious, even if it’s cold, Andrew.” I take the bun from him and unwrap it. It’s still slightly warm, and I tear a piece off and pop it in my mouth.
And it is delicious. The flaky, buttery bread melts on my tongue. “Mm.” I almost sigh—it’s that good.
He wraps his arm back around my waist. “I thought you might enjoy them.”
Andrew gazes back up into the night sky as I eat the rest of my roll. He’s silent until I finish eating. “You know, if you were to stay in Montovia, I could guarantee for you each day as many baked goods as you are able to consume.”
I want to laugh, but I know what he’s trying to do. “I…can’t. You already know that.”
He nods, his eyes never leaving the stars. “I know you continue to say that. But I don’t know it, exactly. I’m still not entirely sure why you’re resisting what we have together.”
I let out a long sigh and try to shift away from him, but his arms wraps more tightly around my waist.
He continues to stare up at the stars. “Would you like another bun? One of the desserts? Or perhaps some more of the cider?”
I shake my head and lift my gaze to the sky, trying to figure out what it is he’s looking at.
He falls silent again, neither of us acknowledging the finality of these last few moments.
I finally blow out another long breath. “What is it you see?”
“I see a future for us together, Victoria. I see the two of us making a life together. I see you making me the happiest man alive and me trying every day to do at least as much for you.”
I frown and turn to him. “I meant in the stars.”
He drops his gaze to meet mine. “So did I.”
“How many times do we have to go through this? Why won’t you do what’s best for everyone involved and give up on this insane notion that you can have it all?”
“Because you’ve taught me that I can have it all. That I can be happy and live the life I want to lead while still being the prince I’m supposed to be.”
I shake my head. “I have not taught you that, Andrew.”
He pats at his pocket. “Had you let me finish reading you my list, you would have heard exactly how you have taught me that and more.” He lifts a brow. “May I finish reading it to you now?”
“No.” I lift my gaze back to the stars. “I don’t need to hear it to know it’s impossible.”
His arm tightens around me again and he pulls my hand into his. “Nothing is impossible, though. Not if you want it badly enough.”
“Maybe that’s the problem, then. Maybe I don’t want it badly enough.”
We’re silent for another moment before he speaks. “Can you really just leave? Will it really be that easy for you?”
“Of course it won’t be easy for me, Andrew. It will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I can do it. I will do it. For your good and for the good of your people.”
“They could be our people, you know. You have just as much capacity to serve the citizens of Montovia as I do. Perhaps more.”
My brow furrows. “Even if that were true—which it isn’t—you have the very real problem of needing a way to get your royal scepter back. I can’t imagine that King Maximilian will want to give that back to you as a wedding gift if, you know, you aren’t marrying his daughter…”
From the corner of my eye, I see him nod slowly several times. He finally speaks again after another moment of silence. “No one is going to die because the royal scepter is gone. My father may give himself an ulcer, but no one is going to be mortally wounded over it. In the grand scheme of life, it is only of minor importance.”
I turn to him, my mouth falling open. “You…you really believe that?”
He nods and drops his gaze to mine once more. “Y
es, Victoria. I really believe that. I’ve given it a great deal of thought, particularly over the past day. No one is going to die because the royal scepter has been lost. There is even some precedent—my fourth great-grandfather lost his crown in a gambling match. Of course, he still had the royal scepter, but it is just as well that it is gone now.”
“Just as well? You can’t be serious.”
A small smile plays at the corners of his lips. “Of course I’m serious. And it is just as well because it gives my father one less thing to worry about. There’s no need to protect it as some symbol of our monarchy when it now resides in the palace of our rival. And it isn’t a true symbol of anything, if we’re being honest. It’s merely a scepter.”
“Andrew, I’m not trying to argue your point. But I can’t imagine you’re going to ever be able to be happy knowing that scepter is in the hands of King Maximilian. I think you might be able to say it now, but I don’t believe you’re going to feel that way for the rest of your life. I have this sneaking suspicion that you’re going to want to get it back—”
“And I will get it back at some point. Or perhaps I won’t.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. It isn’t as though my father or I will be incapable of ruling without it. It might be one of our national symbols, but we’ll find some other national symbol instead if we must.” He turns to me with a smile. “I hope you know that I’m only able to—how did you say it? Let this go?” He nods, smiling. “I’m only able to do this because of you.”
“Great.” I roll my eyes. “So I’ll get to play the bad guy in the press now. It really is a win-win for you, isn’t it? You get to turn over a new leaf and live with yourself even though you lost the blasted thing, and you get to blame it on the outsider. That seems perfectly fair, Your Highness.”
“Victoria…” He squeezes my hand. “It isn’t going to be like that at all. In fact…” He turns and pulls something out of the picnic basket next to him. “I have something I need to ask you.”
I can’t see what it is he has in his hand, but it’s small. He stands up and looks down into my eyes.
Not even a second passes before we both turn in the direction of the road at the sound of screeching tires as the car we were in earlier comes to a stop at the end of the drive.
The man who had been driving us leaps from the car, leaving the door open as he rushes down the path toward us.
He’s out of breath when he gets to us, almost doubled over as he tries to get enough air. He rights himself after a moment and clutches his chest. “Your Highness. You need to come quickly. It’s your father.”
Andrew
I leap up, still processing Elias’s words.
My father. Something has happened to my father.
It’s strange—even after everything my father has put me through, my first reaction is still dread.
“What happened?” I demand. “Tell me.”
Elias as still trying to catch his breath. “He… They said… His heart…”
I can’t breathe. “Is he…?”
“He’s alive,” Elias says, still huffing. “But he… His condition is critical.”
“Take us back to the palace at once,” I say.
He nods. “Of course, Your Highness.”
I don’t even bother grabbing the blanket or basket. I just take Victoria’s hand in mine and lead her to the car. My thoughts won’t sit still.
What if he…?
What happens if…?
He can’t be dying. He can’t…
I feel physically ill, thinking about the possibilities. And it’s not just the emotional effects I have to consider—the death of a king has political ramifications, too. And personal ones—if my father dies tonight, my life from this point forward will be forever changed.
My chest tightens. This isn’t supposed to be happening. Not yet…
As Elias steps on the gas, a warm, gentle hand closes over mine. I look over at Victoria, and her concern is written all over her face. Her fingers squeeze mine.
“We employ some of the best physicians in Europe,” I say, as much to myself as to her. “He’s in good hands.”
She nods, saying nothing. But her grip on mine is firm, steady. I’m glad she doesn’t try to offer any words of false hope: I’m sure he’ll be all right. Everything will work out fine, you’ll see. She seems to understand the true gravity of this situation.
God, my mother must be beside herself. My father is a hard man to love, but my mother is a saint—and even when they disagree, her love for him runs deep. If my father dies, it will destroy her.
It will destroy us all.
The drive back to the palace seems to take an eternity, even though Elias drives as fast as safety will allow. Victoria holds my hand the entire way, but neither of us speaks. Words won’t help right now.
When we finally get to the palace, I leap out of the car before it even comes to a full stop. Victoria is right behind me. Together, we run up the steps and inside.
An attendant is waiting for us. “This way, Your Highness.”
I take Victoria’s hand in mine as we hurry after the attendant, into the eastern wing of the palace and down the corridor to my parents’ large suite. I don’t fail to notice how many other people are rushing about—palace staff, officials, and a number of people I don’t even recognize are running through the halls, even though it’s quite late.
They’re preparing for the worst.
There’s a knot of dread in my stomach, and it gets bigger the closer we get to my parents’ rooms. By the time we reach the doors, I find myself unable to breathe again.
Stay calm, I tell myself. Assess the situation and figure out what you should be doing or feeling after you know all the facts.
The attendant opens the doors, leading us into the luxurious chambers on the other side.
William and Sophia are sitting on the sofa in the large parlor. Both look grim, and Sophia’s eyes are puffy and red. I have no idea where Leopold and Elle have run off to, but that’s the least of my worries right now.
William looks up at me and gives a small nod of acknowledgment, and I nod in return. Then I stride across the room to the pair of double doors that lead to the bedchamber.
It’s only then that Victoria tugs on my arm, trying to free her hand from mine.
“Maybe I should wait out here,” she says.
“No,” I tell her, refusing to let her fingers go. “I want you with me.” I need her strength beside me when I face whatever it is I’m about to face.
She gives the smallest shake of her head. “Your father… I have a feeling my presence won’t be very welcome. And if he’s already ill…”
Damn her, she’s right. As much as I want—need—her with me, my father won’t be pleased to see her with her hand in mine. The last thing I want to do right now is upset him.
Still, I have a hard time letting go of her hand.
“I’ll be right here with William and Sophia,” she says. “I promise I won’t go anywhere tonight.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and instantly my body relaxes somewhat. At least I know she won’t run away from me tonight.
Slowly, I uncurl my fingers from around hers. I lean forward and give her a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you,” I murmur before stepping back and turning toward the door once again.
My hand is cold on the doorknob. But I’m going to be king someday—perhaps very soon—and that means facing the difficult things. I take a deep breath, set my shoulders, and open the door.
The first thing I see is my mother. She’s sitting on a stool right next to the bed, dressed only in her nightdress, and both of her hands are wrapped around one of my father’s. On the other side of the bed stands our head royal physician, Dr. Schwartz, fiddling with some medical device they’ve hooked up to my father. There are a couple of other members of the medical staff in here, too. And Stephan stands in the far corner, his face pale as he watches the scene unfold in f
ront of him.
My eyes go to my father last. He’s lying on the bed with his eyes closed. I can’t tell if he’s asleep or unconscious or something else—but the pale, yellow cast to his skin makes me uneasy. He looks so frail—so old—lying there, and so unlike the terrifying man I faced across his desk only a short time ago.
It takes a moment for anyone to notice I’ve entered. My mother notices first, and she stands when she sees me, releasing my father’s hand.
“Andrew,” she says softly, coming across the room to me. She pulls me into an embrace, and as I wrap my arms around her I feel her tremble slightly. She’s barely holding herself together.
“What happened?” I ask her.
She pulls back, looking up into my face. Her eyes are nearly as red as Sophia’s.
“We were preparing for bed, and he just…” She blinks. “He was talking about Maximilian. About how poorly their treaty discussions have been going. He’s just been under so much stress recently…working himself to exhaustion. I’ve had to beg him to come to bed every night this week. I was sitting at the vanity and he was speaking and then…he just stopped.” Her eyes are filling with tears again. “I turned and he was so still…and then he was grabbing at his chest and falling over and…oh God, Andrew, I thought he was dying right there.”
She falls into my arms again, and I hold her as she sobs into my shoulder. I want to ask her more questions, but I don’t want to make her even more upset.
My eyes find Dr. Schwartz’s across the room. He slowly walks over to us.
“He’s stable right now,” he tells me softly. “We’ll be monitoring his condition closely.”
“What…” The question I want to ask freezes on my lips. What are his chances? Will he die? Finally, I find my voice again. “How critical is his condition?”
Dr. Schwartz frowns. “It’s difficult to say. But your father is strong. He won’t go without a fight.”
A tremor moves through my mother, and she stifles another sob against my shoulder.
