Crown Me, Prince

by Frankie Love

  Mattie sighs behind me as we all look out the window, witnessing this animal’s last breaths.

  Hunter kneels beside the creature, and I watch him cut off a tracking device. He stuffs it in his pocket, then runs his hand over his jaw. He pats the animal fondly before the vehicle drives away.

  He looks up to the sky, and I try to imagine this playboy of a prince offering up a silent prayer on that creature’s behalf—the two halves of him intersecting in a way I don’t understand.

  As he looks up, his eyes find mine. I lift my hand, weakly waving to him. Surprising myself, I press my hand to my lips, offering him the softest of kisses.

  He nods tensely, then turns and walks back into the castle.

  I turn to the people waiting on me for the dress fitting, attempting to find a footing in this moment.

  “Sorry, that was … unexpected,” I tell the room, pulling down the window, collecting my emotions.

  “Prince Hunter tracks all the gaillia; he knows the herds. It makes sense he would go help an injured one.” A man in a trendy suit offers me a slight. “I’m Freddy, and I’m here to help you today—to make sure your gown fits properly.”

  I attempt to move past what happened in the courtyard, and smile when Freddie shows me my dress.

  “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” he asks. “It was the Queen’s wedding gown, though of course it’s been altered ever so slightly. Pin here, a little stitch there. This final project is a masterpiece. Now, my darling, you must try it on so we can make any alterations. The wedding day is fast upon us. Only five days away. Can you even believe it? I certainly cannot.”

  He rests his hand on his forehead as if on the verge of fainting. Then he begins to laugh, taking me by the hand and leading me to a dress.

  And the dress is gorgeous. Completely stunning. Nothing that any bride would ever dream of wearing in Elexia, but we aren’t in Elexia. We’re in snow-covered Cressia.

  The dress is long-sleeved and edged in fur. The skirt is full, and the train so long it looks as if it’s a mountain in and of itself. The bodice is covered with crystals.

  It may have seemed like half a dozen people here to help me dress was a bit much, but once I begin attempting to put the gown on, I realize how important the extra hands actually are. The dress is massive, and weighs a ton. Soon enough the buttons are fastened, the satin train smoothed, the skirt fluffed. I look like … the princess of Cressia.

  “Better than I imagined,” Freddy tells me, turning me to face the massive, full-length mirror. The staff clap with delight. Mattie arranges my hair at the base of my neck, and for the first time in my life I would describe myself as elegant.

  I’m staring at myself in the mirror, shocked at my own transformation, when a knock on the door surprises me. The door opens, and I turn to see who is entering.

  Everyone begins to shriek at once, running around, hands flailing. My eyes narrow in confusion. What is the commotion?

  Then I see him, his broad shoulders taking up so much space, his piercing eyes locking onto mine.

  Hunter is here.

  “I’m here to speak with the Princess.”

  “You must leave immediately,” Freddie demands, even though he’s a solid foot shorter than my betrothed. “You cannot see the bride before the wedding day in her wedding gown. Have you no respect for tradition? Decorum? Propriety?”

  I’ve known Hunter less than twenty-four hours, and even I know his answer to Freddie’s questions could be summed up in a four-letter word.

  Within seconds, two of the women have grabbed a sheet and hold it in front of me so Hunter can’t see the dress.

  I smile at their ingenuity, even though I don’t care whether Hunter sees me in the dress. This wedding isn’t about tradition or devotion; this wedding is about money, about saving face. For both him and me. Him seeing me in the dress won’t change the facts.

  “Violet,” Hunter says, stepping toward me as if he’s on a mission. His clothing is much more relaxed this morning—no suit, no shiny shoes. He’s in the clothing I saw him wearing in the courtyard: leather boots and dark jeans and a button-down shirt made of something coarse. Perhaps flannel?

  “Are you okay?” I ask. “I mean....” My chin juts toward the window.

  “I’m fine. The circle of life and all that.” He shrugs, and I take the cue not to call attention to his emotions.

  Attempting to brighten the mood, I change the topic.

  “Well, as you can see, I’m quite busy.” I feign seriousness, but a smile escapes me.

  He raises an eyebrow as he takes in the room. He knows I’m teasing, and his smirk causes my knees to go weak. I can’t help it. Hunter disarms me.

  “It’s true. I am very busy. I don’t know if you’ve heard, Hunter, but I’m getting married in five days.”

  “Someone’s in a sassy mood.” He stops a few feet in front of me, only able to see me from the neck up.

  “I’m in a good mood. I slept well. Thank you for asking.”

  “Violet, don’t be hard on me. In fact, I was thinking of whisking you away for the night. You need to see the country of Cressia before you are the crown princess.”

  I swallow, not wanting to be intimidated by his suggestion. Overnight, with Hunter? I’m not ready for that.

  I have an excuse at the ready—a valid one.

  “Well, I already reviewed my itinerary, and I seem to be quite busy today and tomorrow. I don’t know if Jemma will allow me to go on a date with you.”

  “Jemma doesn’t get to dictate what we do. Remember, you’re going to be my wife—and as my wife, I insist you and I have some time alone, together.”

  I bite my bottom lip, trying to figure out his angle. I know he isn’t in the light and carefree mood that he’s trying to present to me. I see the tension in his jaw, and even though I haven’t even spent an entire day with him, I see his whole body is fighting something—maybe even something more than the incident with the gaillia outside.

  His eyes … they’re dark. He seems irritated, and he crosses his arms as if signaling this to me. My eyebrows rise in concern. I want to know what’s bothering him, but of course I would never dream of asking such a question in front of so many people.

  And just like that, seeing his vulnerability, my fear of being with him washes away and is replaced with desire. Not wet panties desire—I mean the desire to comfort him, care for him. Be near him.

  I swallow, not used to this swell of emotions, and knowing it’s exactly the sort I need to fight against. If I sleep with him before the wedding, I’m putting everything on the line.

  Still, it’s a double-edged sword. I have to go with him.

  “Thank you so much for asking. I would love to join you.”

  “Just like that? I expected more of a fight from you.”

  “I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?” I’m trying to flirt, and I don’t even know why I want to flirt with Hunter—or how to. But I want him to think of me as more than a straight-laced, scared girl, even though that’s exactly what I am.

  I want to be a girl he wants to marry.

  “I guess I’ll see exactly how many surprises tonight, won’t I?” He winks at me. Yes, he literally winks. But it’s not a weird or creepy wink. It’s a my panties are now completely soaked wink—which is a little awkward, considering I will soon be undressed by six different people. Right now, all I want is for all of them to leave.

  Because, in all honesty, I’d like to explore my physical reaction to being in Hunter’s presence. I’d like to explore it with another warm bath and my fingers pressed between my legs.

  Maybe I’d like to explore it with him.

  I shake my head, remembering who I am and where I am.

  “Hunter,” I scowl. “There are people around.” I lift my arm, waving at the half-dozen people around us who are listening to every single word we exchange.

  They laugh, and one of the girls who’s holding the sheet drops it. The room stills as the sheet flutters to
the floor. She leans down to catch it, but misses.

  I’m exposed, in all my white-dress bridal-attire glory.

  Hunter pauses, looking me up and down. I expect some cheeky remark about taking me as a virgin on my wedding night, a flippant comment that would get a gasp from the people listening.

  But he surprises me by saying simply, “Sunshine, you look beautiful.”

  I press my hands to my chest. His eyes meet mine.

  “Thank you,” I manage. I take a deep breath, blink. “Now, Hunter, you must wait outside and let me change. If you’re going to whisk me away, you must give me a few moments to prepare.”

  “Take all the time you need, Princess.” Hunter leaves the room, but before he exits he looks over his shoulder, taking me in one last time.

  It’s not until he shuts the door that I remember to breathe.

  Chapter 10

  I’m changed into designer jeans, gorgeous gold-buckled boots, and a thick sweater. The staff have all left; the dress is now pinned for a few slight alterations that Freddy insisted upon. I’m still trying to figure out what happened between Hunter and me. He wasn’t at all a douchey asshole. In fact, he was ... sincere?

  Still, how in the world am I going to go away with him for a night?

  I mean, I don’t think I’m ready for this.

  I need to call Iris; maybe she can give me the confidence boost I need.

  Dialing her number on the old rotary phone in my bedroom, I hold the receiver to my ear and wait for her to pick up.

  “Hello?” she asks. Not many people would have my sister’s phone number.

  “Iris? It’s me, Violet.”

  “Of course it’s you, I’d know your voice any day. Besides, you’ve been gone literally one of them.”

  “I know, but it feels like I’ve been gone a year.”

  “Are you okay? Is Hunter—”

  “Don’t say it. Don’t say that he’s hot, or that he’s an asshole, or that he’s … mine. This is all so intense. Iris, I don’t know how you’re going to do it. I mean, you’ll probably be fine. Actually, considering—”

  “Considering what? In case you’ve forgotten, Violet, I’m still a virgin, too. I’m not exactly some experienced woman, here. But heaven knows I’m ready to gain some experience. Get married, already, so I can go get my Prince Not-So-Charming.”

  I cringe, knowing her betrothed is Prince Garrick, who has a reputation for being a reclusive jerk, refusing to show his face in high society.

  “I know you’re not experienced like that, but you’re so outgoing and easy to get along with. And me? I’m the exact opposite of Hunter in every way.”

  “Oh, honey. What happened?”

  “He kissed me.”

  I hear my sister’s squeal across the ocean. “Violet, you kissed Prince Hunter. Do you know how many women in the world would die to be in your shoes right now? I mean, I’m kind of dying to be in your shoes.”

  “Don’t say that; it’s creepy. He’s supposed to be your brother-in-law. Besides, he isn’t like you’d expect.”

  “Not like I’d expect in a good way or a bad way?”

  “In a good way, I suppose.”

  “Then what’s the problem? Why do you sound so completely terrified?”

  “Because he asked me to go away with him for a night. Before the wedding. To get to know one another. Alone.”

  “Oh, my God you’re so going to sleep with him, aren’t you?”

  “Iris, don’t say things like that.”

  “Don’t say things like what? Honey, you’re a grown-ass woman. You’re twenty-three years old. You’re with the hottest man in the world. And you’re going to marry him. It’s basically all the things.”

  “Father told me to wait until the wedding, that I need to make sure Prince Hunter doesn’t back out and leave me high and dry. You know the rumors about him. And a night all alone with him … I don’t think it’s him I’m worried about. It’s me. When he kissed me, I forgot why I was unhappy to be marrying him, why I didn’t want to be here. When he kissed me, Iris, I forgot why he was bad.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” Iris says, her voice softening. “I know it’s a lot to take in. This whole situation got sprung on us, and it is kind of insane. But you’re the strongest woman I know. And I know I talk a big talk, but I don’t have any game, no more than you do.

  “Yes, I like to flirt, and I wear sexier clothing than you do. But you’re smart, and you’re wise; you have passion and honor. Hunter is lucky to have a woman like you, and you don’t need to listen to Father. Why don’t you listen to your heart?”

  “Iris, thank you.” I blink back the tears in my eyes. “It’s just when I go away with him today, I’m scared I’ll fall into a forgetful, blissed-out state—because, seriously, he makes me melt. But what if he hurts me? Like, what if he calls it off and breaks my heart? I’m trying to safeguard that from happening.”

  “How can you safeguard against heartbreak?”

  “Well, first of all, I could avoid actually sleeping with him until the wedding, like an obedient daughter. And, secondly, I told him he could have a mistress and that I wouldn’t even care, so he’d think I was a progressive woman who would be a lenient wife.”

  “You did not tell him that!” Iris starts laughing on the other end. “Only you would do that, Violet, when your husband is the most eligible prince in the world. Honey, you are way too scared for your own good.

  “Listen, I’m in no place to give you sound advice, but I’m guessing you didn’t call me, your little sister, for sound advice. I’m guessing you called me today because you wanted permission. So let me tell you this. Go on this overnight with your soon-to-be-husband. Let yourself forget for two days.”

  “Then what?” I ask.

  “Then,” she says, “you can remember.”

  Chapter 11

  An hour later, Violet is waiting for me in the foyer of the castle. I see her talking to my father as I walk toward them. I can’t help but feel a little tense, wondering about their exchange. I didn’t exactly give Violet the impression that this was my father’s idea; I wanted her to think I wanted her with me. And I do, especially after I saw her in my mother’s wedding dress. She looked like more than a princess.

  In that dress she looked like a queen.

  It’s crazy to think that one woman, in one dress, can make me rethink my entire motherfucking life—but damn, when I see Violet, I see a future I never imagined. When I saw her, it was the first time I thought I might want to be a king.

  Then I look at my father standing next to her, and I blink, remembering all the reasons I do not want this life.

  “So, Sunshine, you ready to go?” I ask her.

  “Yes, I’m all ready,” she says softly, her eyes on the ground. I wonder what my dad said to make her not want to meet my gaze. I doubt I want to know.

  “The snowcat is ready for us, and the porter stowed our bags.”

  “Wonderful.” She smiles tightly.

  “I got you some gloves.” I hand her a pair of soft leather gloves—gloves that were my mother’s, gloves that I want on her hands.

  My father must recognize them, because he clears his throat. “That’s good of you, son,” he says stiffly. “Travel safely, and we will see you tomorrow evening. Your schedules have been cleared, and Jemma will sort everything out. The wedding isn’t something you need to bother yourselves with anyway, is it?”

  “That is so good of you.” Violet gives my father a quick embrace.

  After he leaves, I take her hand, wanting her to know that, even though this trip was my father’s idea, I’m glad that she’ll be with me.

  The snowcat isn’t quite what others might think when they hear the word. Sure, it has the capacity to travel across snowbanks at an impressive clip, but my vehicle differs because the driver and companion are safely secured in a roomy, comfortable enclosed carriage, not a “sports utility” anything.

  We sit side-by-side on plush leather seats. The h
eater is running, and my hands are on the steering wheel. The snowcat can alternate from tires to skis with a single switch, depending on what ground we’re covering.

  At the moment, we’re on skis that are moving us across the sloping snowbanks east of the castle—the opposite direction from the city square. I have no intention of heading toward the public.

  Right now, I want to get the fuck away from the castle.

  Our luggage is stowed in the back of the cabin, and Violet sits primly beside me, hands clasped in her lap. The hum of the engine is the only noise, and the farther we drive the quieter the surroundings become.

  “What was my father talking to you about, exactly?” I can’t help but ask her. She’s been silent since we got in the snowcat, and I don’t know if it’s because she hates the snow, or if it’s because of something my father said, or if it’s because of something else entirely.

  I’ve never been with a woman I actually care to ask these questions of. Usually I’m in the mountains with whatever woman strikes my fancy.

  “He was telling me that this night away was your idea.”

  My shoulders drop as I release my pent-up energy, relieved that my father wasn’t talking shit about me to my fiancée.

  “Are you cold?” I ask.

  “A little. Even with these gloves and this coat, and the heater going on full blast … it’s different here.”

  “It’s funny, isn’t it—you and I talking about the weather? Isn’t that what old married couples do?”

  “I’m not sure,” she says. “Honestly, I’ve never been around a lot of old married couples.”

  “I guess I haven’t, either. I never met my grandparents, and we don’t have a lot of relatives. My dad’s sister married a man in Trulana, so I don’t see my cousins from that side often. What about you? Do you have much family?”

  “My sisters, of course—Iris and Dahlia. We are as close as sisters can be. But my mother passed away several years ago, and the truth is, she was the glue that kept the family together.