by Peak, Renna
“Am I not here officially?” I shift in my seat. It isn’t like me to pull my rank, but this branch of the family is so…unreasonable. I’m not certain what else I can do. “As you well know, my father has been quite ill—”
“Not for some months.” Benedict frowns, his brow furrowing. “In fact—”
“In fact, you have very little knowledge of what goes on behind the palace walls.” I look at each of my cousins before turning my attention back to their mother. “My father’s health status isn’t common knowledge, and I don’t plan to make it so today.” I had very little say in the decision to keep my father’s ongoing health problems a secret—not only from our family but from the people of Montovia in general. Of course, people know that he has been ill. They don’t know quite how ill—and how his recovery has taken considerably longer than was anticipated.
The staff bring in our breakfast, and unlike last night, I begin to eat immediately, not waiting for any signal for when to begin. I’m still a little embarrassed that I didn’t realize the table was waiting for me last night—I certainly won’t make that mistake again.
Everyone digs into their food, and an awkward silence descends upon the room.
Caspar is the one to finally speak. “Do you think it is a good idea, Nicholas? Keeping your father’s health status a secret?”
“It is not my decision to make—”
“I’m aware,” he says, interrupting. “I didn’t ask if you had any input into it. I merely wanted to know your opinion.”
“My opinion is inconsequential—”
“Obviously.” He smiles as he takes another bite of his breakfast. “No one would argue that point, Nicholas. I merely asked what it was—your opinion, that is.”
I narrow my gaze at him, taking a sip of coffee.
This is a trap, obviously, and I’ve no idea how to handle it. This is why I don’t participate in the political trappings of my family—I haven’t the training nor the desire to do so.
“You know…” Clara daintily wipes at the sides of her mouth before setting her napkin in her lap. “The health of a monarch really isn’t an issue that should be discussed—or even worried about by the populace of a country, don’t you think?”
Caspar’s brows draw together. “I should think the populace would be very concerned about the health of its monarch—”
“Oh, I don’t mean they shouldn’t be concerned. I just mean that they should trust that if there was really a problem—something that would make him ineffective or something—they would be told. I mean, if I call in sick to work, I don’t have to explain what’s going on. They trust that if it’s serious, I’ll tell them. And if it’s something simple—a stomachache or a cold or something—I’ll be back to work as soon as I can. They don’t automatically assume that I’m dying just because I need a few days off.”
Xavier lifts a brow, turning to Benedict with some unspoken word. Benedict shrugs as though they’ve passed some telepathic message between the two of them.
Caspar gives Clara another smile. “Dear Clara. Of course what you’re saying makes sense, and if we were talking about a mere worker being ill, there wouldn’t be an issue. But suppose the head of your company were ill—suppose there were many rumors flying about regarding his effectiveness. Wouldn’t those in your company begin to question his leadership, particularly if he were…absent for much of the time?”
“I…guess so.” Clara frowns, taking another forkful of food in her mouth.
“What is it you want me to do?” I look at my cousins and their mother in turn. “If you have something specific you want of me—some question you want me to pose to my father—”
“It’s simple, really,” the lady says. “We would like for your father—and your mother, if she’s available—to attend Lord Frederick’s ball as a show of good faith.”
Clara
Well, it looks like this ball is shaping up to be the dramatic event of the year. Forcing the king and queen to confront the rebellious branch of their family at a huge party does not sound like the recipe for a good time, but maybe they do things differently over here in Montovia. And if Sara is going to be there, too…
Guilt tugs at my stomach. Nick still doesn’t know she’ll be in attendance. Maybe I should tell him, get it all out in the open…but I know, deep down, that he needs to confront her. And I’m afraid he’ll avoid the ball completely if he knows she’ll be there. That won’t be good for him, for us, or for this country.
The rest of breakfast is an awkward affair. After last night, Nick seemed so happy and carefree, finally at peace with himself and his situation. Now, his mood has soured again. I can tell he’s deep in thought as he munches on his toast. Probably wondering how he can make all of this right again. He has a habit of taking too much on his own shoulders, and any progress he made last night has just been reversed again.
I try to cheer him up a little as we walk back to our suites after breakfast.
“Just tell your parents what’s going on,” I say. “They’ll know what to do. That’s their job.”
“That’s just it,” he tells me, rubbing the back of his neck. “Dealing with this situation was my job. And I’ve failed. Calling in my parents was exactly what I was trying to avoid. This was my responsibility, and I’ve come up short.”
“Some jobs are too big for one person,” I point out. “Fraught political situations, for instance. That’s not your fault. That’s just how the world works. You’ve done everything you can do.”
“I’ve done nothing,” he counters. “Since the moment we arrived here, I’ve been completely useless. I’ve argued with my cousins. Managed to antagonize Lord Frederick even further. And honestly, I’ve spent a lot more time worrying about you and this relationship than I have dealing with what I came here to do. I could have been making all sorts of progress. Instead, I’ve allowed myself to get caught up in my own personal drama. That is my fault.”
“What about what you said last night? About realizing that Lord Frederick would never listen to you? Remember how good it felt to let go?”
“I never should have agreed to this in the first place,” he goes on as if I haven’t spoken. “I knew I wanted little part of it. And I knew I was…distracted.” He blows out a long breath. “But I said I’d do it. And then I bloody well fucked it up.”
“You didn’t fuck up anything.” I place my hand on his arm. “It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Lord Frederick never had any intention of listening to what you had to say, let alone compromising with you. He’s just a big bully.”
“And I’m the little boy who can’t stand up to him without calling in Mother and Father.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He sighs. “I know. But I just wish there was something else I could do.”
We stop in the middle of the corridor, and I want nothing more than to throw my arms around him and assure him that I have faith in him, that there’s at least one person in this world who sees his strength and intelligence and talent.
“Maybe we should just go back to Montana,” I say finally.
He blinks at me. “What?”
“Why not? If you’re as ineffective as you believe, then why does it matter where we go or what we do? They don’t need us here. We should just run away together and be happy. Return to the ranch and forget about the rest of the world.”
He reaches out, cupping my face in his hands. His thumb slides across my cheek, and his eyes are a mix of emotions.
“I wish we could,” he says softly. “I wish we could just run away from all this. But we can’t, Clara.”
I nod, understanding. “Then what are we going to do?”
“I’m still working on that.” His hands slide down to either side of my throat. “But I’ll figure it out.”
“I know you will.”
He sighs again. “I suppose you’re right—I should at least notify my parents of the situation. They might have some insights. I’ll call them right no
w.”
We continue on to his room, pausing just outside the door.
“Would you like me to come in with you?” I ask.
“Thank you, but I’d prefer to make this call on my own.” His eyes are steady as they meet mine. “After that, though, perhaps we can go for a ride?”
“I’d like that.” I smile.
I wait where I am as he turns and opens his door. I don’t see what happens next—but I hear a sudden clatter, then a splash, and suddenly Nick is drenched in water. A now-empty bucket rolls into the hallway.
For a moment, we both just stand there stunned. Nick’s dark hair is plastered to his forehead, and his white shirt is now nearly see-through as it clings to his skin. You can see all the muscles beneath.
“Bloody Benedict,” Nick grumbles. “I bet you anything this was him. It’s not clever enough for Caspar or crazy enough for Xavier.” His gaze rises to mine, and the shock and irritation disappear. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I tell him, blushing. “Just that I never realized how hot you’d look in a wet white shirt.”
Now he actually goes a little red. “I’m glad you approve, but—”
“But we still need to get them back.” I cross my arms. “Don’t worry, I’m on it.”
He smiles, and my heart lifts. I doubt I’ll get a laugh out of him, not this morning, but this is close enough.
“Go make your call,” I tell him. “I’ll start planning.” I pause halfway through turning away. “I also should probably see what someone can do about getting me something to wear for this ball. I have a feeling the things Sophia packed me aren’t appropriate.”
“I can take care of that,” he tells me. “I’ll call Sophia as well. She’ll have something that will do for you.” He pushes the wet hair off his forehead. “And Clara?”
“Yes?”
“Make it a good prank. If my cousins want a war, then they’ve got one.”
Nicholas
I’ve certainly made a fine mess of things. It isn’t bad enough that I’ve been unable to come to any sort of agreement—let alone any sort of peace—with this side of the family, but now I have to call on my father to assist me.
After changing out of my wet clothes, I stare at my phone for what feels like hours—there’s no way I can just call up my father and ask for help. Even if I could somehow muster the courage, it’s pretty unlikely that he’d take my call at all. I’m not sure I’ve ever spoken to my father by phone, and this doesn’t seem like the time to start.
Instead, I call my brother Andrew. If nothing else, he can relay a message to our father. My gut still twists with shame that I have to ask for assistance, but Andrew will know what to do.
My brother is silent while I explain the situation to him—he’s well aware of the tensions on this side of the country, but I’m not sure he was aware that the threat of secession is so immediate.
“So Lord Frederick is demanding that our father attend his birthday celebration or he’ll proceed with a formal secession request?” Andrew pauses. “I never took our cousins to be blackmailers.”
“If you’ve any advice, Brother…” I hate that I even have to ask. “I would certainly appreciate it. I’m not as adept in these political situations as I should be—”
“Nonsense,” Andrew says. “There should be no political situation in Wintervale. There must be more to it than what it appears.”
“And if you’ve advice on how I might determine what that would be—”
“I’m quite certain you’ll do a fine job, Nicholas. Father wouldn’t have trusted you with going in his stead if he weren’t confident in your abilities, as well.” He pauses for another moment. “When is this birthday celebration of our cousin’s?”
“Next week. I realize that father will never attend—”
“You’re correct on that account,” Andrew interrupts. “Father barely participates in the celebrations within the capital. There is no way he’s going to travel to Wintervale for a birthday party. But…”
“But?”
“But I’m certain that Victoria wouldn’t mind attending with me, assuming I can get her to part with our daughter for an evening. Or perhaps we should just bring her with us…” He seems to consider that for a long moment. “And Leopold and Elle will certainly be willing to go, especially if they can bring their son. And I don’t have to tell you that Sophia loves any sort of party. She and her husband have been positively bored since they returned to Montovia with you, anyway.”
“We certainly don’t need everyone there, Andrew—”
“And there won’t be. I’m sure William and Justine won’t be able to attend, though I’ll definitely ask them. And who knows? Perhaps they’ll say yes. A short family vacation might be just the thing for them. With everyone there, we’ll have a proper family reunion on our hands—Lord Frederick will have so many royals at his manor, he won’t know what to do with himself.”
“Except for the one he truly wants here…” I rub at my jaw.
“I’ll take it up with Mother,” Andrew says. “Though there’s no guarantee, of course. If anyone can talk our father into something, it would be her.”
After we hang up, I can’t help but think I should have been able to devise this plan on my own. If I weren’t so distracted by all that’s going on in Wintervale, perhaps I would have been able to.
A short while later, Clara returns. She’s smiling as though she’s just won some sort of contest.
Given the utter joy in her expression, I can’t help but return her smile. “What is it?”
“You’ll see,” she says, taking my hand. “How did it go with your father?”
My smile falls in an instant. “I couldn’t bring myself to call him.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows draw together, and I can see the disappointment in her expression. “Nick—”
“I spoke to my brother Andrew instead.” There’s no doubt she won’t understand my reasoning, and my gut twists again with shame. I’m not meant for this life, I think. This is why I should just return to Montana, away from everything.
She says nothing, only gives me a blank expression.
“I… You wouldn’t understand why I can’t speak to my father.”
“Oh, I think I get it more than you think I do. If you ever meet my dad—really meet him, not just an introduction…” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. What did your brother say?”
“He…” I blink at her a few times. I hadn’t truly considered that I should meet her family—on better terms than how we first met, anyway. Perhaps, if we’re ever able to get out of this mess in Wintervale…
She cocks her head, and I realize I haven’t answered her question.
“He suggested a sort of family reunion. He said he would bring Victoria, and perhaps their child. He was quite certain that if Victoria was willing to come, Leopold and Elle would come, too. And of course, Sophia and Pax are always willing to come for a party.”
A slow smile spreads across her lips. “That sounds…awesome.” She grins. “Seriously. It’s brilliant. They want a royal get-together, they’re going to get a damn fine one.” She smiles at me for a moment. “And maybe if everyone else is here, your dad will want to come.”
“That seems unlikely. But Andrew said he would speak with our mother. If anyone would be able to convince him to come to a family gathering, it would be her.”
“It’s all coming together. See?” She squeezes my hand. “And after you find out what I have planned for your cousins, you’re never going to stop thanking me.”
Clara
Things are going to work out. They have to. If they don’t, I’m pretty sure Nick will snap completely, and not even I know how to bring him back from that.
All I can do, over and over again, is try to remind him of the good in life. Try to bring a smile to his face. There’s a joyful man in there somewhere—I’ve caught glimpses of him time and again—and I’ve taken it on as a personal challenge to bring him out a
gain. Somehow.
I smile at him, desperate to convince him that everything is going to work out. He still looks worried, though, so I stand on my toes and try to smooth the wrinkles out of his forehead.
“Whatever happens, it’s out of your hands now,” I tell him. “There’s nothing else you can do, so there’s no point in worrying.”
“Easier said than done.”
Am I crazy, or do I detect the hint of a wry smile on his lips?
“Want to know what I have planned for your cousins?” I tease.
A flicker of life returns to his eyes. “Sure. What?”
“I’m not going to tell you,” I tease. “But if you want to venture a guess, I’ll tell you if you’re right.”
He shakes his head, and this time there’s definitely the beginning of a smile on his lips. “Please don’t tell me you’ve managed to capture more snakes.”
“Sadly, no.”
“Spiders, then?”
I laugh. “I’d set myself on fire before I touched a spider. I’d set the spider on fire, too, come to think of it. Heck, I tried to convince my parents to burn down my bedroom when I was a kid because this little spider had built a web under my bed and it already had a couple of egg sacs by the time I discovered it.” I shudder at the memory. Even though my dad had the maid take care of it, I slept on the sofa for three weeks after that because I was convinced that I’d wake up to thousands of little spider babies crawling all over me.
Nick is beginning to look quite amused now. “All right, no spiders then. I assume I can also rule out centipedes, beetles, and worms?”
I shove down the horrific spider memories and return his grin. “No creepy crawlies are involved in this one.” I grab his hand, pulling him after me. “Did you still want to take that ride? You can keep guessing while we head to the stables.”
He lets me drag him out of the room, and my heart is already lifting again. Yes, this prank is exactly what he needed. And I’ll keep it going as long as possible if it keeps bringing that smile to his face. Let his parents and Lord Frederick sort out their differences themselves. There’s no reason to put their children in the middle of it, especially children who have a tendency to take the weight of the world on their shoulders. It’s no longer any mystery why Nick decided to become an anonymous cowboy on the other side of the world.
