The Making of a Princess

by Teresa Carpenter

  With great ceremony her father tapped Xavier on the right shoulder and spoke of his great skill with weapons, then he tapped the left shoulder and commended him on his strong heart and loyalty, last he tapped him on the head and reminded Xavier of his eternal duty to crown and country. The same was repeated with Philippe, and then Jean Claude bid them to rise as Sir Xavier and Sir Philippe, Royal Knights of Pasadonia.

  Amanda clapped so hard her hands stung, and once the music started again, making it obvious the ceremony was over, she rushed forward to claim her man.

  When he saw her, he moved to meet her halfway, pulling her into his arms and stepping into the dance in one smooth move.

  “Congratulations.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Sir Xavier.”

  * * *

  “I don’t forgive you.” Lying sated in Xavier’s arms, Amanda felt his body go completely still.

  She’d never answered his question and now she rolled over to prop herself on his chest and look down into his amber eyes. “Because there is nothing to forgive. I finally got it tonight, Sir Xavier. Being a guard isn’t something you do, it’s who you are. You couldn’t have acted any differently than you did.”

  “I have thought about what you said on the plane, and though I have never considered another direction in my life, it is possible an interest in engineering caused me to over-compensate in my dedication to duty. It was never a problem until you.” He relaxed back against the mattress and lifted a hand to gently brush her hair away from her face. “I should have handled it better.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t, because that might mean we wouldn’t have had the time together that we did. And I wouldn’t give up those memories for anything.”

  He crunched up to give her a kiss. “Me, neither. I promise to always be honest with you. By your definition.”

  She smiled at that. “I love you.”

  Again he froze, his chest not even lifting with air. A hundred years passed. And then his fingers tunneled through her hair and he pulled her over him to plunder her mouth with exquisite tenderness. And as her heart still raced and her chest heaved for breath, she heard the mumbled words, “I love you.”

  Smiling, she slid into sleep. He loved her. The rest they could figure out tomorrow.

  * * *

  Xavier was gone when Amanda woke in the morning, but he’d left a note on his pillow inviting her to lunch with him and his family.

  A glance at the clock showed the time was later than she thought. If she wanted to play with the twins before meeting Xavier, she’d have to rush.

  Carlo had left a voice message for her to come see him before doing anything. She shook her head. Not without Xavier, so that would have to wait.

  She dressed in cream linen pants and a silk sweater and hurried out to the courtyard. She waved to the nanny who gave her an odd look. She wondered about that but the twins spotted her. The boys were thrilled to see her and clamored all over her. And she learned the lesson of wearing light clothes around little boys.

  Deciding the clothes were replaceable but her brothers’ kisses weren’t, she finished playing and gave them hugs before returning to her room to change.

  As she was running late, she texted Xavier she’d meet him in the front drive to the palace, which was a closer walk from her rooms than to the garage.

  In the front foyer she hitched her purse over her shoulder and waved at the guards standing sentinel.

  “Miss.” One of the guards moved to intercept her. “There is a lot of press out front. You may want to use another exit.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She gave him a self-deprecating smile. “I’m nobody.”

  He did not return her smile but simply stated, “I will step out with you.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m just meeting Commandant LeDuc in the curve.”

  “I will escort you.”

  “Thank you.” Giving in to his determination, she gracefully allowed him to walk her outside.

  They were about ten feet from the door when the cry went out.

  “Amanda Carn! It’s her.” A crowd of bodies rushed her.

  “Amanda, what is your purpose for being in Pasadonia?”

  “Mademoiselle!”

  “Amanda!”

  “How do you know the Prince?”

  “Vous êtes la maitresse du Prince?”

  Bombarded with questions in a variety of languages, only half of which she understood, she froze. Had someone just asked if she was Jean Claude’s mistress? This was horrible.

  The guard immediately put himself between her and the pack. Over his shoulder he instructed her to head back to the door.

  She tried, shuffling sideways, but the pack surged closer and she shrank back. Her stomach burned with dread. Fear weighted her down.

  This was bad.

  “Over here, Amanda!”

  “Mademoiselle Carn, what is your relationship with the Prince?”

  This was worse, far worse, than tripping around campus worried about staining her grandparents’ reputations. Yes, her grandparents’ careers were important and could have suffered from any inappropriate actions on her part, but a campus was small potatoes next to a country and a professor’s reputation just didn’t weigh in at the international level. She could do real damage to her father’s credibility.

  Just the thought made the blood run cold in her veins.

  And it didn’t end there. Xavier and his family would suffer from their association with her. This was a nightmare.

  “Amanda.”

  “Mademoiselle.”

  “Amanda.”

  Amanda made no effort to respond. Overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of the attack, her mind just kept looping why? Another guard arrived and helped to hold back the horde, but she was so distraught and disoriented she stood frozen in place.

  “Amanda, are you the Prince’s daughter?”

  “Ms. Carn! This way. Is the Prince your papa?”

  She flinched at the questions. How had they found out? She must have made a mistake. The guards urged her to move, but her mind raced. What had she done? Where? When?

  And then Xavier was there, wrapping a hard arm around her waist, lifting her against his chest, and hustling her inside. Even as she buried her face against him, more guards arrived, moving outside to remove the press, still calling questions through the door.

  “Are you okay? You are shaking.”

  “They know,” she said into his chest. She’d never been so happy for his strength than in that moment. “How can they know? I must have done something wrong.”

  “Shh.” He soothed a hand over her hair. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “Mademoiselle Carn.” Carlo’s voice boomed through the foyer. “You will come with me.”

  She cringed, and Xavier’s arms tightened around her. He put himself between her and the Social Secretary. She loved him so much she realized she needed to pull it together for him. And for her father. The news was out. It was time to deal with it.

  Pulling free of Xavier’s comforting embrace, she lifted her chin and faced Carlo.

  “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Amanda’s distress ate at Xavier from his stance in the corner. He felt helpless as Carlo ranted about a picture of Amanda and Jean Claude dancing at the ball, appearing on an internet blog with a post from an anonymous source asking who the upstart American was and what was her relationship to the Prince of Pasadonia? Surely for anyone to get that close to the Prince she had to be his mistress or a long lost daughter.

  He went on to state the whole incident with the press could have been avoided if she had come to see him as he requested.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized for the third time. “But if you had given me some indicat
ion of what you needed to see me about, I could have made an informed decision.”

  “There should be no decision. I am the Social Secretary. I do not make frivolous summons.”

  Her chin tipped up. “And I’m an American citizen not subject to summons.”

  Good for her. Xavier welcomed the anger in her eyes. She’d deal better with a little fire in her blood. He felt comfortable enough to text the security office and request they trace the anonymous poster.

  Carlo seemed more interested in crucifying Amanda than in finding who instigated the problem. Elayna, who stood quietly to the left of Carlo’s desk, had contributed nothing so far. Her avid expression reflected no compassion for Amanda.

  “You are a guest in our country.” Carlo raked Xavier with a disapproving glance. “You have overstepped yourself on more than one occasion. Now you have created a scandal that has embarrassed the Prince. Your actions are unacceptable.”

  Xavier stepped forward. “Your tone is unacceptable.”

  “Keep out of this, LeDuc, or I will have you removed from this office. You should be more concerned with how this affects the Prince than this woman.”

  “The Prince should be here.” Xavier pulled his phone out again and pushed a button.

  “The Prince has been apprised of the situation,” Carlo said quickly. “I am handling this.”

  “Jean Claude,” Xavier said into the phone. “You are needed in Carlo’s office. It’s about Amanda.” He flipped the phone closed. “He will be here in a few minutes.”

  “That was unnecessary.” Carlo was livid. “The remedy to this is simple. Once Miss Carn is gone, the scandal will leave with her.”

  “That is not an acceptable resolution,” Xavier stated.

  “He’s right, Xavier,” Amanda spoke up. “If my presence is causing trouble for Jean Claude, I need to leave.”

  “We will let Jean Claude decide what should be done.”

  “Damn you, LeDuc. I could have handled this.”

  “By banishing her?” Xavier mocked him. “You should be thanking me. I just saved you from yourself. Have you made any effort to find who posted to the blog?” he demanded. “It had to be someone at the ball. You should be focusing your ire in that direction, not on Amanda.”

  The door swung open and Jean Claude marched inside, followed by Bernadette.

  “Carlo,” Jean Claude addressed his Social Secretary. “What is going on here?”

  Carlo explained the situation, making it clear his earlier claim of doing so had been false.

  “My dear, are you okay?” Jean Claude’s first concern was for his daughter.

  “Yes,” Amanda assured him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for.” Bernadette came forward to take her hand. “I know how traumatic it is to be besieged by the press.”

  Jean Claude moved the second visitor chair over so Bernadette could sit next to Amanda.

  “What have you found out about the blog poster?” Jean Claude followed the same thought process as Xavier. “I will not tolerate a guest of mine insulting me in this manner. It should be a simple matter for Security to trace.”

  “Of course, Your Highness.” Carlo cleared his throat. “I will follow up immediately. I felt it best to deal with Miss Carn first. The allegations of the press are ridiculous but the attention you have given her has obviously been misconstrued. It is best if she cuts her visit short.”

  “That is not your call.”

  “Jean Claude.” Bernadette’s tone urged the Prince to calm himself. “I believe it is time to announce who Amanda is. It is the only thing that will hush the speculations.”

  “You are right, as usual.” Jean Claude claimed his wife’s hand and kissed her knuckles. He flicked his gaze to Carlo. “Put together a press conference for this afternoon.”

  “I do not understand,” the Social Secretary protested. “What will you be announcing?”

  “Amanda is my daughter.”

  “Your daughter!” Carlo’s voice held the shrillness of a damp cat. “Why was I not told of this? I am the Social Secretary. I could have managed this with some dignity.”

  “Nobody knew of this. I wanted some time to get to know Amanda before it was made public.” Jean Claude went on to explain the situation. “However, it is time to advise the whole council. Please arrange an emergency meeting. I want a plan in place before the press conference at three.”

  “What of LeDuc’s involvement?” Carlo made notes on an open pad on his desk. “I assume the relationship was a cover for her presence here.”

  Amanda made a distressed noise in the back of her throat.

  “The relationship is real,” Xavier stated with authority. He caught the Prince’s gaze and decided to make his position totally clear. “Your Highness, I would like to speak to you later about marrying your daughter.”

  Jean Claude gave a nod of approval.

  Carlo had a fit. “Marriage! You need to slow down. There are precedents and politics to consider.”

  “Stop! Just stop.” Amanda sprang from her seat. “You don’t have to worry. There’s not going to be any marriage.” Xavier’s gut clenched at the anguished gaze she shot him before including Jean Claude in her focus.

  She waved toward Carlo. “He’s right, and this is exactly what the country’s reaction is going to be. The press had the same response. I’m an interloper, trying to force my way in where I’m not wanted. I don’t want to cause anyone any more embarrassment. Or hurt anyone by being associated with me. It’s best if I leave.”

  “No.” Jean Claude moved to her side and pulled her into a warm hug. “I always intended to tell the people. It is unfortunate you had to suffer this unpleasantness before I could claim you.”

  “No, Papa.” Amanda pushed away. “Carlo is right. I’ve just caused trouble. I will always treasure our time together, but it’s time for me to go.”

  And she rushed from the room.

  Xavier immediately made to follow her and found himself shoulder to shoulder with Jean Claude. The older man met his gaze and inclined his head, indicating Xavier should go after Amanda. “Convince her to stay.”

  * * *

  Amanda raced through the halls of the palace, seeking the sanctuary of her rooms. She probably provided quite the picture for the security cameras, bumbling along, tears staining her cheeks. But the need for discretion was gone. Their secret was out, an ugly blotch on the Prince’s reputation.

  This whole mess was her fault. She had to make it right, and the best way to do that was to remove herself so the scandal could just fade away. She refused to cause the people she loved and cared about any more damage or embarrassment.

  And she really had come to love her family here; she honestly felt like a member of a real, caring family. But she’d been a fool to think it could last.

  In her suite, she pulled out her cell to call Michelle or Elle, but the time caught her eye and she realized it was the middle of the night back home. She flipped the phone closed, grabbed the box of tissues, and stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

  She had to make travel arrangements, but she needed a few minutes first or she’d be a sobbing mess trying to talk to the airlines.

  In spite of being at odds with Xavier, this last week included some of the happiest days of her life. And just when they finally found their way back together, this happened.

  Obviously they weren’t meant to be.

  Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her back against a hard chest. Instant recognition had her hugging his arms to her. She dug her nails into the fabric of his jacket, both comforted and upset by his appearance.

  “You aren’t going to change my mind. I’ve caused enough damage here.”

  “Sweetheart, you are in shock from a traumatic eve
nt. There is no need for me to change your mind. Once you have had time to calm down and put the incident into perspective, you will see for yourself that you have done nothing wrong. There is no need for you to go anywhere.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Just let me hold you for a few minutes. Do not think, just breathe with me.”

  Because it was easier to give in than to fight, she relaxed against him, breathed as he breathed. And slowly felt the tension fade away.

  Xavier’s phone buzzed. He moved one arm to answer, listened for a few minutes, grunting once as his body went taut. “I will tell her. I am working on it. Of course.” He disconnected, returned the phone to his pocket, and his arm around her.

  “My father?”

  “Yes. He wanted to know if I had convinced you to stay and whether I still wanted to speak with him this afternoon.”

  “And what are you to tell me?” She couldn’t deal with the other yet.

  “Elayna was the anonymous blogger. She confessed after I left the room. She was jealous of you and thought if she caused you trouble, you would leave. She had no idea you were actually the Prince’s daughter.”

  “I told you she didn’t like me.”

  “It appears you were right. I am sorry. I should have noticed her antipathy sooner. I let old ties blind me.”

  “Stop.” She moved to face him, ran a finger down his chiseled jaw. “You are not responsible for her bad behavior. So just cool your guilt engines.”

  “You do not blame me for her leaking you to the world?”

  Leaking? She bit back a grin. She really shouldn’t laugh in the face of his sincere concern. His English was so good, these odd moments could lead to totally inappropriate reactions.

  “How could you suspect her of such a thing? I don’t like the woman, and I would never have thought her capable of betraying the Prince.”

  “She did not think of it as such. The Prince is often the target of gossip. She figured this would be no different but that you would suffer the inconvenience of the press pestering you for the remainder of your stay.”

  “That’s messed up.”

  “Yes, she messed up. None of this is your fault. I want you to stay.”