A Love that Endures

by Forrest, Bella

  “But Lorria isn’t like the United Kingdom. The king and queen here do have real political power. And because of that, a princess’s hand is a valuable asset. A royal marriage means expanding the empire or forming important alliances. The king and queen know that. But, more importantly . . . Katy knows that.”

  And there it is.

  David exhaled deeply. Relationships weren’t supposed to be this complicated. But he had known what he was getting into back in the New York City deli, when Katy had first told him who she really was. Or, at least, he’d thought he knew what he was getting into.

  Cassie offered David a weak smile. “Don’t take it to heart, David. I think there’s always a chance.”

  “Thanks,” David replied. Then he turned and headed to his room.

  After a long, hot shower and a change of clothes, David came back out and ran straight into Oliver.

  “Pardon me,” the duke said.

  “No, it’s my bad,” David replied. He noticed immediately that Oliver was sharply dressed in pressed slacks and an expensive-looking sweater. And you’ve got holes in the knees of your jeans. Good look!

  He nodded to the duke, embarrassed, and started to walk down the hallway. To his chagrin, Oliver kept walking beside him.

  “Are you sore from our little adventure today?” he asked David with a friendly grin.

  “A little bit,” he replied. In reality, his hamstrings and quads were positively on fire. But he didn’t want to let on too much.

  “I hope you won’t let that excursion temper your enthusiasm for the sport,” Oliver went on. “You’ve got the right build for it. You could be a pro in no time.”

  David smiled a bit, in spite of himself. Man, this guy is good. He’s practically wooing me!

  They walked down the staircase together, but upon reaching the ground floor, David realized he had no idea where he was going.

  “Castles really should have posted maps, like shopping malls,” David said, looking around. Where was the dining room?

  Oliver laughed. “I know how you feel. Could get lost in here. But I have an idea where to go.”

  He turned down a corridor beneath the staircase, and David followed.

  “Does your castle have a similar layout?” David quipped. He liked this Oliver guy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take the piss out of him.

  “No castle for me, actually. I asked my parents to leave me a section of land with a farmhouse on it and bequeath the palace to my sister.”

  “Didn’t want to look like you were overcompensating with all of those tall spires, eh?” David asked. All right, maybe that one was a bit mean.

  But Oliver chuckled, genuinely and in good humor. “I just prefer smaller spaces. I like being able to actually see my guests when I have them. And I’ve never been one for having a bunch of people on the payroll living in your house. Prefer to keep to myself on most days.”

  David nodded, hoping to politely end the conversation. Stop being so likable! I’m trying to hate you.

  Just as Oliver had predicted, the corridor beneath the stairs led to a grand dining room with a long, stately table. Cushioned chairs lined both sides, with one at each end for honored guests. There was already a broad assortment of food gracing the tablecloth, and David’s stomach growled at the smells.

  “Oh, Duke Oliver, dear!”

  The queen walked gracefully over and grabbed Oliver’s arm. David stood dumbly, feeling as though he’d been struck invisible.

  “My Queen,” Oliver replied in greeting. He half-bowed.

  “Come, I was just telling Katy about your sister’s upcoming wedding.” The queen began to walk away, her arm wrapped around Oliver’s, when she stopped and seemed to remember her manners. “David, dear, please make yourself at home. And do try the stew. It’s a traditional recipe.”

  “Thank you, My Queen,” David replied formally. He half-bowed as well, feeling a bit stupid doing it, and then Oliver and the queen were off. David noticed that they were heading over to Katy and watched unhappily as Oliver was ushered into the seat beside her.

  Katy. She looked stunning in a flowy cream-colored blouse and dark slacks fitted enticingly to her long legs. David noticed her short, heeled boots, understated necklace, and casually elegant updo, sweeping her dark hair up off her long neck. His heart ached a bit as he realized he’d been delegated to the other end of the table.

  He walked over to the king’s side, offering him a half-bow, and then took a seat. David looked down the table at Katy and, when their eyes met, offered her a tentative smile. She smiled back and began to stand, but the queen lightly touched her arm and asked her something that David couldn’t hear. Katy nodded at her mother, sat back down, and held up a finger to David, telling him she’d be there in just a minute. Then Oliver said something that pulled her into conversation.

  Good. I was starting to like that guy. This reminds me why I don’t.

  “David,” the king said in his friendly baritone, leaning forward in his seat, “tell me: How do you know my daughter?”

  The question sounded intimidating, maybe even threatening, but the king was smiling and his tone was jovial. So David tried not to feel like he was under a microscope. “We met by chance, My King. And then I joined her theater club and we became fast friends.”

  “Fast friends?” the king repeated. David swallowed. The king smiled again. “Well, I suppose it’s good that you’re not slow friends.”

  David forced a laugh. Is this dad humor or royal intimidation? He couldn’t decide, and that was making him nervous.

  “Well, I’m glad she’s making friends,” the king went on. “Though I’ve never been much of a fan of theater. Anyone who has to pretend to be someone else on a stage needs to analyze why they aren’t satisfied with their real life.”

  David nodded, though he didn’t feel that way at all, as the king stood to reach for a bowl of soup. He wondered if every dinner with Katy’s parents was going to be this unpleasant.

  The rest of the meal was spent in abject silence, at least on the king’s side of the table. Cassie, the suitors, and the queen looked to be enjoying themselves fully on the other side. They laughed, took turns leading the conversation, and ate to their content. Behind them, a servant occasionally came by to refill their glasses. David picked at some cheese and salad and tried not to steal too many glances at Katy, who looked less enthused about the seating arrangements than the suitors, but still seemed to be enjoying their company.

  After what felt like an eternity, David noticed Katy standing and excusing herself in his periphery. He was positively giddy when he saw that she was walking over to him.

  “Papa,” Katy said as she reached the king’s end of the table. He nodded at her. Then she turned to David. “David.” She offered an exaggerated curtsey with a positively flirty smile.

  Instantly, David forgot about his embarrassment and isolation. Katy sat beside him at the table.

  “Did you try the stew?” she asked.

  “Not yet, but your mother insisted.”

  “Well, if you have taste buds, I insist that you don’t,” Katy replied with a wink. “Oh, did you hear about the party tomorrow?”

  David was keenly aware that the king was listening intently to their conversation, so he decided against cracking any jokes or being too flirty. “I did. But I’m afraid that I don’t have suitable clothing.”

  “We’ll find something for you, don’t worry,” Katy assured him. She placed a hand on David’s forearm, and he felt himself react instantly, heat spreading across his cheeks. Not in front of the king, Katy! He’s already on to me.

  “Yes,” the king interjected. “I’ll have something brought up for you. One of my old suits, perhaps. We look about the same build.”

  “Thank you, sir,” David replied. Then, catching himself, he added, “My King.” Manners came easy to David. But fancy etiquette? Not so much.

  Katy leaned closer to David. “The ski lift is back up. We could take it j
ust for the view if you want. I could show you the sunset. A Lorrellian mountain sunset is one of the wonders of the world.”

  David beamed and opened his mouth to respond with enthusiastic approval, but the king spoke first.

  “You promised your mother that you’d help her with the summer home garden planning tonight, dear,” he said, looking pointedly at Katy. “You’ll have plenty of nights to show your friend the sunset. But your mother wants to have the servants start expanding the garden by first thaw.”

  Katy sighed. “I forgot.” She looked ruefully at David.

  “Don’t worry, Katy. Um, My Princess.” He blushed. “I can entertain myself tonight.”

  “And tomorrow you’ll have to help your mother oversee the palace preparations,” the king added to Katy. “You know your mother gets overwhelmed doing all of the planning herself.”

  Katy groaned. “Papa, I brought a visitor. It’d be quite rude to leave him to his own devices for so long. Besides, Mama has plenty of help.”

  “She needs someone with a royal eye, Katy,” the king continued. “And it’s not only for her benefit. You need to learn how to plan these types of affairs as well. One day you’ll be the queen.”

  “Papa,” Katy started, her voice growing stronger. David decided to intervene.

  “I’ll be fine, My Princess,” David said. It felt so strange referring to her that way, but he really didn’t want to get too casual right under the king’s nose. “I’ll explore the grounds and maybe try some more skiing.”

  “David, the last thing I’d want is to leave you adrift and alone out here,” Katy began. But the king replied before she could really finish.

  “That’s a good lad,” the king said, raising his hand to beckon a servant over to refill his glass. “You’re welcome to explore our library, as well. Katy is quite fond of it.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself?” Katy asked David, looking at him despairingly, as if hoping he’d contradict the king.

  “I’m sure,” David replied. “I know you have responsibilities to attend to.”

  Responsibilities like planning parties, gardens, and marrying royalty. David tried not to look too defeated. He didn’t want to give the king that, either.

  * * *

  David awoke the next morning to a knock at the door.

  He stood, threw on his jeans and T-shirt from the night before, and stumbled to the front of the room, hoping to see Katy. Instead, an older man was standing in front of him, holding a paper-wrapped parcel. David looked at it in confusion.

  “Your dinner outfit, sir,” the man said, holding out the package.

  David grabbed it. “Um. Thank you.”

  The butler nodded and then turned on his heel, leaving David alone with the outfit. He shut the door and walked back inside with a small smile. Finally! A chance to prove that he could look just as regal as the actual royals. David wasn’t conceited by any means, but he knew he could rock a tuxedo. He plopped the parcel down on the bed and tore open the paper.

  At first, he simply shook his head.

  The king is pulling a prank on you. Obviously. He held up the “tuxedo” to get a better look at it. It was made out of maroon-colored velvet. And not just the cummerbund. The whole suit was dark red velvet. Not only that, the “bow tie” was more like a bow than a tie. It was a wide, silken thing that knotted at the throat and was supposed to hang down floppily, like a bow. Or clown shoes. David laughed. Katy’s dad might’ve been a bit stiff and pretentious, but this was a good joke.

  David’s laugh was cut short when he picked up and read the small card that had been folded on the top of the suit.

  “Hope you enjoy this traditional Lorrellian piece. I wore this for my coronation afterparty. It’s quite dear to me.”

  “Oh, my God,” David said quietly. It’s not a joke.

  39

  Katy

  “Oh, my God,” Katy said, looking at herself in the mirror.

  “My dear, it’s so beautiful,” the queen said, walking in a slow circle behind Katy as she stood on a raised platform in front of the three-fold mirror.

  The gray-haired tailor her mother had flown in was examining Katy closely, holding extra pins in her mouth, as she determined where minor adjustments needed to be made.

  “Just beautiful,” the queen repeated.

  Are you kidding me? Katy wanted to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. The dress was hideous. The floor-length gray-white gown covered everything except Katy’s face and fingers. It rose in a high, ruffled collar beneath her chin and draped down in an A-line, cinching in at her waist with another explosion of Damask ruffles. The arms started out fitted—too tightly—but then ballooned out into humongous open sleeves like a wizard’s, hanging down past her fingertips by a full foot of fabric.

  “I look like a Victorian ghost,” Katy said, her eyes wide and the corners of her mouth downturned, threatening to plunge into a full-on frown that she knew her mother wouldn’t abide.

  The tailor stole a quick, nervous glance up at her.

  “Katerina!” the queen said, casting Katy an admonishing look. “This is traditional Lorrellian dress for a formal affair. What has gotten into you?” The queen turned to the tailor. “Youth these days. She was probably expecting it’d be a tasseled bralette.”

  The tailor looked awkwardly between the queen and the princess.

  “There’s a huge space on the fashion spectrum between underwear-as-outerwear and this, Mama,” Katy retorted. “I look like a billboard for virginity.”

  “As you should! I must say, I don’t see what the problem is. I even requested off-white, since we all know you don’t like long white gowns.”

  Katy glared at her mother while the tailor scurried around them, trying not to make eye contact.

  “Well?” the queen asked impatiently, turning back to the tailor. “Our guests will be arriving within a few hours. Can we get on with the adjustments?”

  “Right away, My Queen,” she replied. She pulled the rest of the pins out of her mouth and nodded at Katy, cueing her to remove the gown.

  Katy wished the tailor would sew all of it up, while she was at it. Just sew the whole damn thing closed and then toss it in the waste bin so I’ll never be bothered by its existence again. Katy sighed as she stepped out of the dress, standing in just her slip.

  “You’re going to have a hard time continuing our legacy with those narrow hips, I’m afraid,” her mother said, side-eying Katy’s figure.

  “I’m sure I’ll grow a royally large queen’s ass in time, Mama.”

  The tailor sputtered, stifling a laugh. The queen blushed to a deep crimson.

  “Powder your nose before you come downstairs, Katerina. And don’t forget the crown,” she spat before turning and exiting the room.

  Katy bit her lip and stared into the mirror at her hips. They weren’t that narrow, but her mother sure knew how to leave a lasting impression.

  “I think you have a lovely figure,” the tailor added softly.

  Katy looked over at her with a smile. “Thank you, Nadia. And thank you for working on the dress. Be sure to give the designer my compliments.” Katy winked.

  The tailor smiled and nodded at Katy before walking out of the room with the gown. Don’t bring it back!

  Katy turned back to her reflection in the mirror. Of course the queen would only be interested in the childbearing bits. But wasn’t Katy more than that? She had long, graceful fingers that could masterfully work piano keys. She had strong legs from years of skiing. Strong forearms from horseback riding. A brain that had gotten her through finals at Harvard! Why couldn’t her mother say anything nice about those things?

  Katy turned to the small table beside the mirror. On top of a small cushion sat the finest thing that belonged to her: her crown. Katy hadn’t worn it in some time. She picked it up, heavy despite its obvious delicacy, and inspected it. It was a golden wreath of ornate details: fleurs-de-lis and stylized ivy flecked with small diamonds
and rubies. And at the highest point of the crown was the piece de resistance: a princess-cut five-carat ruby.

  Katy lifted the crown to her head and gently placed it on her dark hair. But, just like always, it didn’t fit.

  The size was fine, of course. It was the whole idea of the crown that didn’t fit. It never had. She had never felt like herself with it on. Even her face in the mirror looked wrong, like a photoshopped magazine poster.

  As Katy gazed at herself despondently, overanalyzing and critiquing just like her mother had, she heard a knock at the door.

  “One moment!” she called out, removing the crown and rushing over to the bed to grab her robe.

  Katy covered herself and went to the door, hoping to find David there. Instead, Cassie was standing in the hallway.

  “How’s the dress?” her cousin asked as Katy ushered her in and shut the door behind her.

  “Horrid,” Katy replied flatly. “I don’t know why I expected anything different. Until I put on a wedding dress, she’d be happy covering me with bedsheets.”

  “Well, I hope it’s at least a bedsheet with style,” Cassie replied with a smile.

  Katy giggled.

  “Do you want me to bring something up from the breakfast spread for you?” Cassie asked.

  “No, thank you. Too nervous to eat,” Katy replied. Then, thinking about it a bit more, she added, “Did you see David down there?”

  Cassie nodded. “He was sitting with Duke Oliver. Funny how those two made unlikely friends. Then again, I don’t think anybody could dislike Oliver.”

  Katy thought about Duke Oliver of Esserby. He was the only suitor whom she hadn’t spent one-on-one time with so far. And although he had been dashing and personable during dinner the night before, Katy didn’t think that you really got to know a person until you could be alone with them for a while. That was how she knew that Lukas was genuinely kind and polite, whereas Victor was a bit of a pushy Lothario. Then again, she trusted David. And if David liked the duke, then he must’ve been very charming indeed.