His to Princess

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His to Princess Page 18

by Theodora Taylor


  “How you been here without me know about it?” Papy asks.

  Ella stares at the water.

  “Where you stay? Somebody help you, give supply, or I see you on the ‘land,” he says.

  Mom gives the tiniest of shrugs.

  “Eh! It that Bernard? I know it! If I know he messin’ in you life agin, I punch him in de ball!”

  “Bernard is an old friend, Papa,” Ella says. “Contrary to what you believe, I decided to leave Victoire on my own, and Bernard supported my choices. He didn’t make me leave. But wait, you saw him? But he’s been so busy with the coronation.”

  Ella looks from Talia to Papy and frowns at their guilty expressions.

  “Obviously Bernard hasn’t been telling me everything. I’ll need to hear the whole story, but first,” she turns on Talia. “Explain to me why you’ve thrown your future away so close to your graduation by getting knocked up on the other side of the world.”

  Talia swallows, feeling the old fear creeping into her bones again. She’s about to disappoint her mom.

  “Uh, well…” she begins, searching for the most delicate way to share what’s been happening, but then Papy takes over, rattling off the details like he’s on the Victoire version of TMZ. “Talia clean Old Vick like her Mamy did, meet boy, dey fall in love. Den, turns out de boy, he really de boy king…” Talia quickly loses the thread as Papy’s patois becomes thicker and more French now that he’s talking to a native. But Ella, understanding everything, shakes her head in disbelief and gasps as Papy relays the events of the past six months.

  Talia vaguely follows the signposts of the road she’s traveled as Ella, shocked, repeats certain words: “Twins! Prisoner? Coronation? The duke…? You kidnapped her!? Okay, delivered…”

  Then Papy’s done, and they’re both looking at Talia.

  “Is this all true, Talia?” Ella asks, looking like an alien has popped up where her formerly dutiful daughter used to be.

  “I didn’t catch everything Papy said, but it sounds about right,” Talia answers with a wince.

  A huge beat passes. Then Ella raises both hands like somebody testifying at their Methodist church to declare, “Oh, I am suing everybody!”

  She grabs a small backpack and starts marching down the beach.

  Talia doesn’t move. The first words of Papy’s story won’t stop looping in her head. Old Vick. Meet boy. Dey fall in love.

  “Let’s get back on that boat of yours, Papa,” Ella’s saying now. “We need to get back to the airport right now, and get my daughter out of this deplorable and incredibly illegal, by any standards, situation.”

  Meet boy. Dey fall in love.

  “You should have called me sooner, honey,” Ella admonishes, grabbing Talia by the arm. “But don’t worry, we’ll get damages for your unjust captivity, and child support times ten for the rest of the twins’ li—”

  “Mom, stop,” Talia says, taking back her arm with a shake of her head. Dey fall in love.

  Do you love me, Talia? Because if you do, we owe it to our babies to at least try.

  “What is it Talia?” Ella asks. “Why aren’t you coming?”

  “Because…” she starts, realizing the truth as she says it. “I don’t want you to sue anyone, Mom. I want to stay here.”

  “What you say now, baby gran?” Papy asks, dipping his chin as if he must not have heard her right.

  “I want to stay here,” she says again. Louder this time. “And by here, I mean in Victoire,” Talia adds. “If I have a choice, which I really didn’t before this moment, I choose here.”

  Ellas eyebrows have all but disappeared into her hairline. And Papy looks like he wants to kick something.

  “Listen. My whole life I’ve been following rules,” she tells Papy. She then switches her gaze to her mother. “Doing what you’ve asked me to in order to become the best I could be. But I came here for Mamy, and I happened to meet this amazing guy because of her. Someone I get along with better than any other guy I’ve ever met before. And, yeah, maybe I should have been more careful...”

  She rubs her belly with both hands.

  “But this is where my choices have taken me. I’m pregnant with twins and the father is a prince. He’s lied to me, held me captive, used me for political gain, but in spite of it all, we’ve become friends. Real friends, and yes, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him. It goes against everything you’ve taught me, Mom, but I want to stay here and see how this plays out. Maybe I’m just a dreamer like Papy, but I want to try for my happily ever after.”

  Talia stops talking, feeling like she’s said everything, but Ella and Papy just stare at her.

  “So will you help me?” she asks. “Will you help me get my prince?”

  Chapter 29

  It turns out Duke Hervé only gave Gaétan enough gas to secret Talia back to Terre d’Or, but not enough to return.

  “Who is this shady escroc you’ve gotten tangled up with?” her mother demands, as the trio has to machete their way through thick vegetation to get to Papy’s truck on the dock. Seeing her mother hacking through the draping vines and gigantesque leaves of a tropical forest, Talia realizes two things:

  One, Mom is like way at home here. A total bad-ass! And two, protecting overly trusting and generous Papy from the cruel world might have been what turned her into the lawyer she is today.

  Her mother is full of surprises, starting with her response to Talia’s decision to give up everything to try to make a happily ever after with the bad boy prince of Victoire.

  She’d simply says, “It’s not like I’ve got this life mess all figured out. Who am I to keep trying to control yours? You know what, sugar? As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m also the bitch that’s going make sure your pre-nup is 100% titanium, so let’s do this!”

  And even having to Indiana Jones themselves out of the cove doesn’t stop them.

  Now they’re bumping down a dirt road in Papy’s truck, red dust billowing around them as they speed toward the once-a-day ferry before it leaves for the mainland. The boat generally departs once it’s been loaded with enough cargo and people to pay for the trip, but there’s no fixed time for when that might happen. It’s already late afternoon, and Talia’s belly is spinning with nerves, not to mention the twins who seem to be enjoying the ride, the nausea from earlier now completely gone.

  Or maybe like her, they’re excited about returning to their father.

  Papy curses and slows the truck down.

  “We never gwan make it now,” he says.

  “Dammit, go around Papa,” says Ella, who’s sitting in the middle of the bench seat.

  Talia groans when she sees why Papy stopped. Goats. Everywhere. The biggest herd of goats she’s ever seen.

  “Merde, it de dame de chevre. Why she got to do dis now?” Papy climbs out of the car, leaving the door open. “Neh neh neh, sistah!”

  “Who’s he yelling at?” Talia asks, squinting into the field of goats.

  Her mom sucks on her teeth. “This old lady Rasolo, who apparently refuses to die already. Since I was a little girl, she’s had a massive herd of goats that she uses to make cheese. She lives on the other side of the island, but at least four or five times a year they get out and eat everything up. I would have sued her for property damage a long time ago if your Papy would’ve let me.”

  “That’s terrible,” Talia says, thinking of all the farmland that could be decimated by the goats. “We should help get these goats back to her. Then maybe try to figure out a way to get her better fencing around her pens.”

  Her mother chuffs. “You have officially been on this island too long, Talia. That’s exactly what Papy said when I suggested suing her ass.”

  Ella then drops into a pitch perfect impression of her father, “Non, non, non, Ella. Me can’t zoo da old girl. Let us be one. We find how help old girl wit dem billies.”

  Ella stops mid-rant, squinting at something off in the distance. “What the…?”

  Talia
follows her squint to see a red cloud of dust has kicked up on the other side of the sea of goats. She tilts her head as the dust cloud crests and starts to settle, revealing a convoy of black Land Rovers.

  All bearing the official royal seal.

  “Is that your prince?” Ella asks beside her.

  Instead of answering, Talia fumbles open the door, getting out of the car in a daze.

  And there’s no need for her mother to yell, “Go to him!” in the distance, because she already is.

  Talia’s legs bump into goat after goat, only to see, on the other side of herd…

  …Aldrich, still attired in his suit from earlier, making his way towards her. The fluttering bird stirs in her chest. She starts to wade towards him faster, the twins going crazy in her belly. My prince! There’s my prince!

  They meet in the middle of the herd. Knee deep in black goats, surrounded by bleating and the patois of inconvenienced Vickees.

  But all she sees is his relieved smile. All she hears is him saying, “Tiens, there you are.”

  “Hi,” Talia says. A hoof squashes her toe and she winces, yet still manages to joke, “Funny meeting you here.”

  He laughs, “Indeed.”

  But then he sobers. “So apparently the Prince of Diamant will become the new king of Victoire.”

  “You know I had nothing to do with that, it was Hervé and my grandfather. But please, don’t punish Papy, he thought he was helping me.”

  “I haven’t come for him. At first I thought of fighting my uncle, but then I realized, the kingdom is but a small matter to me now,” he says.

  Talia’s eyebrows shoot up. “A small matter?”

  Aldrich nods. “Yes,” he says. He reaches into his inner pocket and hands Talia an envelope. “This is what’s important.”

  Talia’s fingers slide under the flap, and she pulls out the contents. She recognizes the airline logo in the corner. It’s a first-class ticket to John F. Kennedy Airport.

  “Oh, I see,” she says, her heart sinking. “You can’t be king, so you want me to leave. No need for an heir anymore.”

  “Yes, I think it’s best for you to go back home,” he answers unequivocally. “But on two conditions…”

  “Conditions?” Talia forces her eyes upward. His face isn’t hard and cold, but it is serious.

  “You must really stop jumping to conclusions, especially where I’m concerned. This is a terrible habit, Talia. Très mauvais. And two…” His face once again gentles as he holds up second plane ticket. “You must take me with you.”

  Talia’s mouth opens but no sound comes out.

  “Talia, please forgive me. I’ve lied to you. I’ve betrayed your trust. And you have no reason to believe anything I say. But I do love you. You are my best friend, and I can’t imagine a future without you. If it means leaving my country behind, and letting my cousin have my throne, so be it. I will do anything, and I will be happy because I will be with you.”

  The fluttering bird batters around in her chest until she releases it with the happiest smile.

  Talia touches the plane ticket to her heart, because he’s done it. Aldrich has somehow made her feel safe, and loved, and as if she can trust him again. She will most definitely be staying with her prince.

  Talia closes her eyes and lets out a soft breath. Then she opens them, and rips the plane ticket to shreds. Letting bleating goats have the first-class ticket back to the life she’s leaving behind for good.

  Chapter 30

  Night has fallen by the time they reach the new castle, and the duke meets them in the gardens, which are still twinkling from the coronation ball decorations that haven’t come down.

  “So she has agreed,” Hervé says, shooting an angry look at Papy who, along with Ella, is flanking Talia like her new personal guard. “I’ll remind you Miss Talia, it can take up to a year to convert, and you’ll be hard pressed to find a pastor willing to rush the process. The whole world is watching, do you really want to shame your future children into a life of illegitimacy?”

  Before she can answer, the duke pulls what must be a copy of the queen and deceased king’s marriage contract from his pocket. “Step aside, Aldrich, and let my son take your place on the throne,” he commands his nephew. “It’s all clearly stated here, so I suggest you not fight me on this…”

  “Let me see that.”

  Ella suddenly steps forward and snatches the contract from the surprised duke’s hand.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she mutters, her eyes scanning quickly over the French legalese. She tuts.

  “Oh non, non, non. Sorry to burst your bubble, Your Grace, but this contract is written so poorly, it will never hold up in international court.”

  She pushes the paperwork into Hervé’s chest with a smile so shark-like, it puts the duke’s snake grin to shame. “So ain’t nobody taking my future son-in-law’s throne. No sir, not on my watch.”

  The duke catches the contract, and stands as if frozen, staring down at Ella.

  “Did you hear what I just said, Your Grace?” Ella demands, glaring up at him.

  “I—I…” the duke starts, before forcing himself to reset. “Madame, you cannot simply disregard a legal contract. There are centuries of tradition reflected in its writing. Centuries!”

  “Yes, I can see that. The boilerplate alone appears to have been written in 1850,” Ella answers with a wry shake of her head. “Listen, Your Grace. I write contracts for a living, I know what a good one looks like. And that,” she points at the paper still clutched to the duke’s chest, “ain’t a good one.”

  “Whether or not you agree with the contents does not dictate the quality of the contract!”

  “Would you listen to this guy?” Ella says to Talia, jerking her thumb at the duke. “He’s trying to put up a fight. How cute! You two get on back to your castle while I put him in his place.”

  “Now excuse me, Madame,” the duke answers, anger writ clearly across his distinguished face. “I am the ruler of Diamant! I do not get ‘put in my place.’ Especially not by a commoner in shorts.”

  “Not until today, apparently,” Ella answers with her trademark shark chuckle.

  Recognizing that her mother is about to draw blood, Talia tugs Al towards the castle so he doesn’t have to stand and watch his uncle get eaten alive.

  But the argument trails after them as they leave.

  “And you can forget all about this Catholic business. You’re not requiring her to convert, and she’s not doing it anyway! We’re protestant. Maybe Christmas and Easter protestant—and not even Christmas this year—but Protestant all the same. I can’t buck that tradition, no matter how much of a letch my husband turned out to be.”

  “Husband, you say?” the duke’s normally hard voice falters a bit on this question.

  “Soon to be ex,” Talia’s mother replies. “But that’s none of your business, Your Grace. Let’s talk about this succession agreement your seriously defective marriage contract alluded to. I’d like to get a copy of that document, by the way. Along with the council bylaws, because my future son-in-law doesn’t need you on his council anymore after your failed power grab...”

  “Ah, Highness, you have returned,” calls Bernard, jogging down the front steps to meet them. “Oh! And Madame Talia, I’m so pleased to see you back in our midst.”

  “Hi, Bernard.” Talia allows him to kiss her hand before he turns to Aldrich. “Sir, we have gathered the legal team to mount our defense, I’m sure it—”

  “Eh, slick boy! There you be! You messin again wid me girl’s life! Both me girls!”

  “Ah, Monsieur de Samuel. I see you’ve returned after kidnapping the future queen. Here to turn yourself in, are you?”

  “He’ll do nothing of the sort,” Aldrich interjects.

  “You know, me innocent in this. You de guilty one,” Papy says, getting in Bernard’s face.

  Bernard blinks rapidly and glances at Aldrich. “How is that, sir? I’m the guilty one?”

  “Oh
you know well. You put dem dotish ideas in me Ella’s head. You make her wan to leave de ‘land, go to big cities a million miles away. It’s your fault I no see her when she fintly come back here, your fault I no see Talia before she gettin' announced as next queenie.”

  “How dare you, sir!? If I played any role in Ella leaving Terre d’Or for brighter horizons, you should be thanking me! She’s leading a happy and successful life in America.”

  “Huh. Happy. Her man a putain de connard, and she back home crying! And en plus, you help her hide! Why you gwan do that? Why you meddle with me family? Now you got your boss to marry me Talia!”

  “Pardon? She’s having marriage problems? She never mentioned it, just asked me to get a few things for her when I ran into her at our old—”

  Apparently remembering he is not longer an island teen with a secret make out spot, but a royal secretary, Bernard falters, throwing Aldrich a terribly embarrassed look.

  “I’m sorry to have been forced to have this conversation in your presence, Sir,” he says.

  But before Aldrich can answer, Papy declares. “You should sorry be, boy? It’s dat soft mama yours. If she had raised you nice, you respect de elders…” Papy warns.

  “Whoa,” Talia says.

  And that’s it for civility. “What?! Now you’re bringing my mother into this?” Bernard throws down his precious padfolio and steps forward again.

  “Oh yeh, I do it!” Papy answers, his hackles all the way up.

  “Sir, with all due respect, you had better not be bringing my mother into this—” Bernard says, showing a side of himself Talia’s never seen before.

  Talia looks up at Aldrich and twists her lips. “Are you sure you want to marry into all this crazy?” she asks.

  He puts a hand to her cheek and looks her in the eyes. “Come…”

  And they leave yet another argument behind to enter the castle.

  Less than five minutes later, he’s rushing them into his suite, interrupting the evening turn-down crew.

  “Your Highness!” says the small group of Vickees and Polynesians when he and Talia burst in the room.

 

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