Stealing the Promised Princess

by Millie Adams

  He commanded a military.

  Violet King did not tremble with fear when she looked at him.

  He took a champagne glass from the table next to him and poured her a measure of liquid, reaching across the space and handing it to her. She didn’t move.

  “You’ll have to come and get it. Contrary to what you may have heard, I don’t fetch or deliver.”

  She scowled and leaned forward, grabbing hold of the glass and clutching it to her chest as she settled back in her chair.

  She looked around the expansive airplane. “Do you think this thing is a little bit big?”

  “I’ve never had any complaints.”

  Color mounted in her cheeks. “Well. Indeed.” She downed half the glass of champagne without taking a breath. “I really do wish there was an internet connection.”

  “But there isn’t. Anyway, we left your phone back in your office.”

  She looked truly panicked at that. “What if somebody else gets a hold of it? I can’t have anybody posting on my social media who wasn’t approved.”

  “Such strange concerns you have. Websites. You know, I’ve been fighting for the life and health of my people for the last several years. I can’t imagine being concerned that somebody might post something on a website in my name.”

  “Optics,” she snapped.

  “Optics are no concern of mine. I’m concerned with reality. That which you can touch and see. Smell. Feel. That is my concern. Reality.”

  “It’s no less real. It changes people’s lives. It affects them profoundly. I built an entire business off of influence.”

  “You make a product. I did a cursory amount of research on you, Violet. You don’t simply post air.”

  “No. But for want of that air my products wouldn’t sell. It’s what exposes me to all those people. It’s what makes me relevant.”

  “I should hope that more than a piece of code floating out in cyberspace would make you relevant.”

  Her lips twitched and she took another sip of champagne. “I’m not going to argue about this with a man who thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to bundle me up and take me back to his country.”

  “I didn’t say it was reasonable,” he said. “Only that it was going to be done.”

  After that, they didn’t speak.

  * * *

  Upon arrival in Monte Blanco, Javier parted with Violet and made a straight path for his brother’s office.

  “I’ve returned,” he said.

  “Good,” Matteo said, barely looking up from his desk. “I assume you have brought the woman with you?”

  “Yes. As promised.”

  “I knew I could count on you. Did she come quietly?”

  He thought of the constant barbs that he had been subjected to on the trip.

  “No. She is never quiet.”

  Matteo grimaced. “That could be a problem.”

  “Your Highness.”

  Javier turned around at the sound of the breathy voice. Matteo’s assistant, Livia, had come into the room. She was a small, drab creature, and he had no idea why his brother kept her on. But Matteo was ridiculously attached to her.

  “Yes,” Matteo said, his voice gentling slightly.

  “It’s only that the United Council chief called, and he is requesting the presence of Monte Blanco at a meeting. It’s about your inclusion.”

  This was something his brother had been waiting for. His father had stayed out of international affairs, but it was important to both Matteo and Javier that Monte Blanco have a voice in worldwide matters.

  “Then I shall call him.”

  “I don’t know that that will be necessary. He only wishes to know if you will accept his invitation to come to the summit this week.”

  “Well, I’m a bit busy,” Matteo said, gesturing toward Javier.

  “Oh?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he responded. “Javier has brought my bride to me.”

  Livia’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. “Of course.” That slight widening was the only emotional reaction given by the assistant. But Javier knew how to read people, and he could see that she was disturbed.

  He could also see that his brother did not notice. “It is of no consequence,” he said. “We must attend. Javier, you will make sure that Violet acclimates while I’m gone.”

  “Of course,” he said. What he did not say was that he was not a trained babysitter for spoiled socialites, but a soldier. Still, he thought it.

  “See that my things are collected immediately,” Matteo said, addressing Livia. “All the details handled.”

  He spoke in such incomplete sentences to the woman, and yet she scurried to do his bidding, asking for no clarification at all.

  “Don’t you think this is a bit outlandish, even for you?”

  “My mouse will have no trouble taking care of things,” he said, using his nickname for Livia.

  “Yes. I forgot. She is your mouse, living only to do as you ask. Though your appalling treatment of your assistant was not actually what I was referring to. That you had me drag this woman across the world, and you will not be in residence.”

  “It’s perfect,” he said. “A more traditional sort of relationship, yes? Hearkening back to the days of old. We won’t meet until the wedding.”

  “You forget, she’s an American. A thoroughly modern one.”

  “You forget: she has no choice.”

  “Why exactly do you want Violet King? That’s something that I don’t understand.”

  “Because we need to modernize. Because we need to change the way that the world perceives Monte Blanco.”

  “I was told by your fiancée that the world does not perceive it at all.”

  “A blessing,” Matteo said. “Because if the world did have a perception of us before now, it would not be a good one.”

  “And you want to change that.” He thought of everything Violet had said to him regarding the internet. “Why don’t you have Wi-Fi on your plane?”

  Matteo blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Violet seemed to find it odd that you didn’t. I told her you weren’t concerned with such things. But it appears that you are.”

  “Well, I’ve never needed it in the air.”

  “Your future bride would want it. Otherwise I think she will find traveling with you onerous.”

  “I didn’t realize you would be so concerned for her comfort.”

  “Well, you put her comfort in my charge.”

  “And I leave it to you now.” Matteo stood from behind the desk. “I understand that it’s not ideal, but I know that you’ll also trust me when I tell you this is necessary.”

  “I know,” Javier said. “You never do anything that isn’t.”

  “I’m not our father,” Matteo said, and not for the first time Javier wondered if he was telling him or telling himself.

  He was well familiar with that internal refrain. He knew his brother walked a hard road, but a different one than Javier did.

  Javier had been part of his father’s army.

  Under Javier’s oversight, missions had been carried out that had caused harm. He had believed, fully and completely, that he was in the right.

  Until one day he’d seen the truth. Seen what love and loyalty had blinded him to.

  And he had learned.

  That a man could be a villain and not even know.

  That with the right lie, a man could commit endless atrocities and call it justice.

  “I know,” Javier repeated. “You have spent all these past years defying him. I hardly thought that a little bit of power was going to corrupt you entirely.”

  “But I must be on guard against it. I understand that you may think it medieval for me to force the girl into marriage...”

 
Javier shrugged. “I have no thoughts on it one way or the other.” And it was true. He knew that Violet was unhappy with the situation, but her happiness was not his concern.

  Swaths of unhappiness had been cut through his country for decades, and he and his brother were working as hard as they could to undo it. If Matteo thought that making Violet his queen would help with the situation, then it was collateral damage Javier was willing to accept.

  “You say that,” Matteo said. “But I have a feeling that you always have thoughts.”

  “Are they relevant, My King?”

  “I told you, I am not our father. But for the fact that I’m a few years older than you, you would be King. Or, if I were dead.”

  “Stay alive,” Javier said. “I have no desire to bear the burden of the crown.”

  “And yet, the burden is heavy enough that I daresay you can feel the weight of it. It is not like you are immune to the responsibilities we face.”

  “What is the point of sharing blood with our father if we don’t do everything, to the point of spilling it, to correct his wrongs?”

  “No point at all,” Matteo said, nodding. “I must go check on my mouse’s progress.”

  “You call her that to her face?”

  “Yes. She finds it endearing.”

  He thought back to the stricken look on Livia’s face when Matteo had mentioned his fiancée. But Javier also thought of the slight note of warmth in his brother’s voice when he said it. Mouse. He didn’t say it as if she were small or gray, though in Javier’s opinion she was both. No, he said it as if she were fragile. His to care for.

  “She may.”

  “No. It is because of how I found her. Shivering and gray, and far too small. Like a mouse.”

  Javier was not certain that Livia liked to be reminded of her origins. However much Matteo might find his name for her affectionate. He meant what he had said to Violet. Javier was not a good man. Matteo might be, but for the two of them it was more honor than it was anything quite so human as goodness.

  In fact, the only real evidence Javier had ever seen of softness in his brother was the presence of Livia in the palace. He didn’t know the full story of how he had come into... Possession of her, only that he had found her in quite an unfortunate situation and for some reason had decided it was his responsibility to fix that situation.

  “You will keep things running while I’m gone,” Matteo said, a command and not a question.

  “Of course I will.”

  “And I will endeavor to make sure these meetings go well. You remember what I told you.”

  “Of course. If ever you were to exhibit characteristics of our father, it would be better that you were dead.”

  “I meant that.”

  “And I would kill you myself.”

  His brother smiled and walked forward clasping his forearm, and Javier clasped his in return. “And that is why I trust you. Because I believe you would.”

  They were blood brothers. Bonded by blood they hated. The blood of their father. But their bond was unshakable and had always been. Because they had known early on that if they were ever going to overcome the evil of their line, they would have to transcend it.

  And they could only do that together.

  Their relationship was the most important thing in Javier’s life. Because it was the moral ballast for them both. Because Javier knew how easy it was to upset morality. How emotion could cloud it.

  How it could cause pain.

  Whether he understood Matteo’s being so intent to marry Violet or not, he would support it. All that mattered was Monte Blanco. Violet’s feelings were a nonissue.

  All that mattered was the kingdom.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  VIOLET HAD BEEN essentially born into money. So she was used to grandeur. She was used to the glittering opulence of sparkling shows of wealth. But the palace and Monte Blanco were something else entirely.

  It wasn’t that the walls were gilded—they were entirely made of gold. The floor, obsidian inlaid with precious metals, rubies and emeralds. The doorframes were gold, shot through with panels of diamond.

  Given what Javier had said about the limo, she was somewhat surprised to see such a glaring display of wealth, but then she imagined the palace had been standing for centuries. She could feel it. As if it were built down into the mountain.

  And it was indeed on a mountain. Made of white granite, likely the namesake of the country.

  It reminded her of Javier himself. Imposing, commanding, and entirely made of rock. The view down below was... Spectacular.

  A carpet of deep, dense pines swooping down before climbing back upward to yet more mountains. She could barely make out what she thought might be a city buried somewhere in there, but if it was, it was very small. The mountains loomed large, fading to blue and purple the farther away they were. Until they nearly turned to mist against the sky. A completely different color than she had ever seen before. As if it were more ice than sky.

  She had not thought it would be cold, given that she didn’t think of cold when she thought of this region, but nestled as it was between France and Spain at such a high elevation, it was shockingly frigid and much more rugged than she had thought.

  Queen of the wilderness. He had brought her out here to be Queen of the wilderness.

  The thought made her shiver.

  Then she turned away from the view and back toward the bedroom she had been installed in by a helpful member of staff, and she couldn’t think of wilderness at all. It was ornate to the point of ridiculousness.

  The bed was made of gold. The canopy was comprised of layers of fabric, a glittering and a gauzy layer, with heavy brocade beneath. The covers were velvet, rich purple and gold.

  It made the clean, modern lines of her all-white apartment stark in her memory.

  She wasn’t going to waste time pondering the room, though. What she needed to do was figure out how to talk the King out of this ridiculous idea that they needed to get married. First, she needed to figure out what his motives were. Obviously if he were crazed by lust where she was concerned, there wasn’t much she could offer him. At least, nothing much that she was willing to offer.

  Violet knew that no one would believe it if she told them, but she had no physical experience with men. She had never been carried away on a tide of passion, and she fully intended to be carried away on a tide of passion when she allowed a man to... Do any of that.

  The problem was, she had met so many kinds of men in her life. Hazard of being well connected and well traveled. She had met rich men. Talented men. Actors, chefs, rock stars. CEOs.

  Javier is the first prince you ever met...

  Well. That didn’t matter. The point was, she’d been exposed to a variety of powerful men early on, and inevitably she found them to be... Disappointments.

  They either revealed themselves to be arrogant jerks with overinflated opinions of themselves, secret perverts who had only been pretending to listen to her while they contemplated making a move on her, or aggressive nightmares with more hands than a centipede and less sense.

  And she had just always thought there could be more than that. More than shrugging and giving in to a wet kiss that she hadn’t wanted anyway.

  The richer she had become, the more men had seemed to find her a challenge. Whether she was actually issuing one or not.

  And that had made her even more disenchanted with them.

  And she hadn’t held out for passion for all this time to just...

  To just be taken by some king that she didn’t even know.

  She could Google him if she had any devices. But there was no damned internet in this place.

  The first active business would be to find out what he wanted. Because she had a lot. She was a billionaire, after all. And, she was well connected. He could break off a chun
k of this castle, and it would probably equal her net worth, so there was that. But there had to be something. There had to be. Otherwise, it wouldn’t matter if it was her.

  Which brought her back to sexually obsessed. Which really creeped her out.

  There was a knock on the chamber door, and she jumped. “Come in.”

  She expected it to be the same woman who had led her to her room, but it wasn’t. It was Javier. And when he came in he brought with him all of the tension that she’d felt in her chest the entire time they were together on the plane ride over.

  “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said.

  “What were you expecting exactly?”

  She realized there was no point in being difficult. Because Javier might be the key to this. “Where is your brother?”

  “Eager to see him?”

  “No,” she said, and she found that was honest. Better the devil she knew, after all. Even if said devil was as unyielding as a rock face. “Did he tell you why he wants to marry me?”

  She needed to know. Because she needed to formulate a plan. She needed to get some power back. Or, rather than getting it back, needed to get some of it in the first place.

  “Yes,” Javier said.

  He just stood there. Broad, tall and imposing.

  “Would you care to share with the class?”

  “I don’t think it matters.”

  “You don’t get that it matters to me why this stranger wants to marry me? I would like to know if it has to do with him harboring some sort of obsession for my body.”

  That made him laugh. And it offended her. “No. My brother has no designs on your body. He thinks that you will be useful in improving the world’s view of Monte Blanco. It is in fact his sole focus. Which is what I came to tell you. He is not here.”

  “He’s not here?”

  “No. He has gone to the United Council summit. It is very important to him that Monte Blanco be granted inclusion into the Council. For too long, we have been without the benefit of allies. For too long, we have not had a say in how the world works. And it is something my brother feels is key to bringing us into the twenty-first century.”