Twelve

by Savannah Verte

  “Really? Who was it then? Do tell.”

  “Oh my Gods. Enough! Yes, really.”

  “Wow.”

  “Wow?…” Devlin countered, “Wow. Seriously? That’s all you have? That’s your great advice? That’s all you can say? I’m in serious trouble here.”

  “Most of the guys in the club wouldn’t say that’s serious trouble. I think most of them would think it’s a good thing.” Layla said innocently.

  “Oh really? So, you think I can just go out and continue the show as if nothing has happened? You think no one is going to notice that one of the dancing princesses has a log in her shorts? We have very different definitions of trouble.”

  When the giggling subsided, they all could at least acknowledge there was a problem. None of them however knew what to do about it. Aislyn finally suggested a temporary solution. “If you don’t know how to deal with that, you could always go get some cold water. Maybe it will go away until later.”

  “Right now I think I hate you all.” Devlin muttered. “Tell Nerissa I’ve taken ill. I’ll be back if I can, or tomorrow.”

  “Oh, so now we all get part of your problem.” Dana moaned.

  “Yes dear, it’s that, or expose that we aren’t what we say we are. Your choice. Log? Or lie?”

  “Fine. Lie.” She moaned.

  Arigany saw Devlin slip from the back room. He donned the cloak and followed. He was many things, but a fool was not one of them. Long before Devlin had changed positions on him, he thought he had an answer to if Devlin would be interested in return or not. The idea kept him moving to find out. It was now or never.

  A Man

  Elba was fast asleep when Devlin arrived. Tiptoeing in, he worked quickly to liberate himself from the restrictive costume. The ache was excruciating. The trouble was, he had no more idea how to ease it now, than he’d had at the club. Thanks to his sisters, he was as oblivious as before.

  Not wanting to wake Elba, he eased out the side door, hoping some fresh air would help alleviate his discomfort. The wind was cool, but it brought with it the scent of a man. It was one he recognized too. The too familiar ache returned to confirm it. It wasn’t any man, it was the man from the club. Looking every which way, he found no one, but he was certain. “I know you’re here. I don’t know where, or how, but I know you’re here.” He said into the darkness.

  A few steps beyond where he stood, Ari revealed himself, dropping the cloak behind him. “I’m here.”

  “Did you follow me?” Devlin asked, aghast and thrilled at the idea simultaneously.

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  Ari shrugged. “I couldn’t help myself. I’ve watched you for weeks. I couldn’t let you get away. When you got up and left me, I didn’t get to talk to you anymore, and I wanted to.”

  Devlin kicked out his hip. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well. This really isn’t the best time. Perhaps another?”

  “Any that you have to give.”

  Devlin pulled his head back. “Really?”

  Ari nodded mutely.

  Devlin was awash in confusion. Of all the patrons who had come to the club, he was never the first choice, and never for conversation. For all the years surrounded by his sisters, he knew he wasn’t interested in what they had to offer. But, no males he had ever encountered had interested him either. It was mighty hard to argue with himself, or anyone else, about if he was interested now, given his current state. “Why me?”

  “Why not you?”

  Devlin’s attitude woke up. “Very true. Why not me?” It retreated as quickly and he leveled out. “But seriously, why me?”

  “Perhaps you will let me list all the reasons when you have time to give me. If you are unwell, I don’t want to keep you.”

  Devlin was nonplussed. “I can stay for a minute.”

  Ari beamed. “But I wish for more than a minute.”

  Deciding it was now or never, Devlin did something he had never done. “Look… I can’t say I’m not interested, because I am. But, I’m not who you think I am.”

  Ari roared. “What? You are not a beautiful, graceful, limber man who dances better than every woman on the stage he shares it with?”

  “You know?!” Devlin gasped.

  “Did you think I could miss it?”

  “But only my sisters, and Elba know.”

  “Then you have surrounded yourself with fools. I couldn’t miss it if I tried. I knew the first time I saw you.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m just a man… Just a man, looking for someone who lets me be who, and what I am. That’s all.”

  “I’m someone.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  Devlin sat down abruptly at the shift, not trusting himself to keep standing. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Arigany.”

  Devlin grinned cheekily. “I’ll call you Ari.”

  “Everyone does. But, it sounds better when you say it.” Ari replied, his voice dropping seductively as he spoke.

  Devlin blushed. “You really knew the first time?”

  “I was pretty sure, but didn’t know until the dance tonight that you might return the interest.” Ari admitted. “I was trying not to scare you off…you know, take it slow, but it was brutal. Then, I knew, but you left.”

  “That was awkward, huh?” Devlin blushed timidly at the memory.

  “And now?” Ari asked quietly.

  Devlin stared. Ari nearly folded waiting for him to answer, thinking he’d pushed too far. When Devlin found his voice, it was husky. “It’s everything…wonderful, and new, and scary, and ohmygoddess…wait until my sisters find out.”

  Eleventh Hour

  Weeks passed. Arigany was at the club every night that Devlin danced. And, every night that Devlin was in the alcove room, Ari was there to monopolize his time. Together, they learned how to keep Devlin’s secret, but also Devlin learned how to resolve the situation when things ‘shifted.’

  Devlin’s sisters and Elba had met Arigany at the household. Out of respect, he introduced himself, shared his past, and clarified his intentions. In return, they revealed their true lineage.

  “I know. In the beginning, it was what brought me here.” He admitted

  “You came for the kingdom?” Dana challenged.

  Ari held up his hands in defense. “At first, yes. I would be lying if I said otherwise. I was newly outcast and it sounded good, so I came, like so many others. I watched all of you for several nights before I aborted my plans.”

  “Which means what?” Devlin prompted, already knowing the answer, but needing his sisters to hear it.

  “Which means, that it doesn’t matter to me. I was a man without a home or a kingdom when I arrived, and what I gained, is worth more than what I have lost.”

  Aislyn smirked. Devlin caught it. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that because he doesn’t want it, is all the more reason he should get it.” She taunted.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Camden chimed in, a mischievous grin on her face.

  “Maybe.”

  “It would serve him right.” Camden snorted, looking from Devlin to her sisters.

  “What did I do?” Devlin questioned.

  “Not you him, Lyford.” Aislyn clarified.

  Devlin’s mouth fell open. “Oh snap.”

  Arigany was uncomfortable with the plan, but for Devlin, he would make it work. The thirty year deadline to the amendment of the merger was set to expire at sundown. Elba led him and the twelve Rousseau children in.

  Lyford was shocked to see them all. “What’s wrong?” He asked, unsure what was happening, but quietly hopeful as he saw the male newcomer.

  “We heard about your pledge of the Rousseau - Coeur d’Alene kingdoms to any suitor that could sway one of us to marry. We declined them all.” Feraut began.

  “I see.” Lyford deflated.

  “We’ve turned the tables on you, and chosen for ourselves,
though only one of us is prepared to marry at this time.” Dana continued.

  Lyford was confused. Even knowing the plan, he defaulted with his next question. “Are they a prince?”

  “Does it matter?” Raven asked pointedly.

  “I mean…” Lyford hedged, trying to figure out what was happening.

  “UGH! Let’s just be out with it already.” Devlin cut to the chase, sauntering forward. “If he is, or if he is not doesn’t matter. I am a prince.”

  “What?” Lyford stuttered. “You are a princess.” He stated carefully.

  The women all covered their eyes as Devlin dropped his trousers. “No, daddy. I. Am. A. Prince.”

  Lyford nearly fainted on the spot, recovering, but clinging to the back of the chair for support. Rounding on Elba, he wanted to be shouting, but could only manage to whisper. “You told me…”

  “No…” Elba began. She turned to Devlin before she continued. “Pull up your trousers.” Turning back to Lyford she explained. “I did not tell you. You saw the babies bundled on the bed. The blankets were discolored from all the blood, and you assumed they were pink, thus girls. Bryn tried to tell you but you shushed her. I did not tell you. What I did was choose not to relieve you of your incorrect assumption.”

  “But…” He stammered disbelievingly, “you could have said something at any other point.”

  “And you could have participated with your children at any singular moment and learned for yourself.” Elba countered.

  “I was overcome.” He complained.

  “When it was Bryn. What about when it was Ava? What about when it was Grace, my sister? If you could not find out for yourself, you cannot blame me. That fault lies at your feet.”

  “Grace was your sister?” He asked quietly, obviously stunned and newly saddened for the pains he had caused or failed to notice.

  “Yes.”

  “You must hate me.”

  “Hate is a kind word for what I feel towards you…for her death, for how you discarded her children, for many things. I promised her I would take care of her babies, and so I have. Hers, Ava’s, and even those of the only one you deigned to care for. They are the only reason I stayed.”

  Lyford nodded, unable to find words even close to what should be said. His shame seemed to be unending. He absently noticed the dark. The official deadline had passed, presumably as his children had intended. Looking for any flicker of redemption, he turned to them. “Not that it matters anymore, but which of you plans to marry?” Turning to Arigany, he continued. “Which of my daughters did you choose for a bride?”

  Devlin moved to stand between Ari and his father. “No daddy. Once again you have it all wrong. Yes, I am a prince, but for him, I will be the Queen.”

  Epilogue

  Devlin was revealed, and Arigany introduced, to Leopold the following day. Leopold took it all in stride. With a wink to Lyford, he officially reinstated the merger between the two kingdoms and gave his blessing to the union of the young men. They were joined, anointed, crowned, and ascended to rule over the Rousseau - Coeur d’Alene a month later. The future heir issue was left to them to figure out.

  The princesses came and went from the castle more frequently, though the relationships with their father would take many years to mend. They individually returned to Logan’s to dance, but the showcase of the Twelve Dancing Princesses was never seen again on the main stage. One by one they married, though none moved back into the combined kingdoms to make their homes.

  Devlin and Arigany were exactly what the kingdoms needed. Ari had learned by his father’s side how to rule a people with their best interests at heart, a tact that was desperately needed as they worked to rebuild the lands after the deceit and destruction of Armen that still lingered so long after his demise.

  After things settled down, and a long day of work, Ari studied Devlin across the room. He wondered if his partner missed his old life. “Will you dance for me?” He tempted, trying to question if he was right.

  For a moment he believed he was, frowning as Devlin replied. “Never again.”

  “But…”

  “Never again… for anyone but you, lover. Not for anyone but you.”

  Acknowledgements

  There never seem to be enough pages to properly thank everyone who makes this crazy journey possible. I could not do this without any of them.

  First, to my PA Jennifer who stares me down in the face of the manic and says again and again, ‘You’ve got this.’

  Second, to the person who takes my zoo-ish first drafts, and sends back something that resembles what I wanted to put out to begin with, but didn’t quite accomplish, for my editor Shelly…you cannot possibly know your value to my writing world.

  Most importantly, to my family…the blood ones, the author tribe who support me, and the readers who continue to delve into the alphabet soup on paper that is my story-psycho come to life…there will NEVER be enough Thank You to go around. You make this adventure worth the sleepless nights and road time. I cannot possibly ever do you justice, or thank you for all that you give me.

  If you enjoyed Savannah’s brand of story-telling, consider checking out her other tales:

  The Custos Series

  Book of Time

  Book of Change

  Book of Mysteries

  Book of Revelations

  Flip-Flopped Fairy Tales

  Imposs-i-Bella

  Twelve

  Tales in 13 Chapters

  Immortal Deflagration

  Immortal Alchemy

  Veil Break

  Una-mor Trilogy

  Rogue

  Black Guard

  Assissins

  Paranormal Dating Agency

  Baiting A Berserker

  Grow Some Gills

  Kiss My Splash

  H.E.A.R.T. Flights

  Liftoff

  Stand alone titles:

  C.A.S.E. Revelations

  Gravedigger

  Viva Zapata & the Magic 8-Ball

  Georgia Roots Revealed

  (with Debut Author Shelly Small)

  LINKS CAN BE FOUND AT www.savannahverte.com/books

  About the Author

  A lifelong lover of words and reading, Savanah Verte hasn’t quite figured out what she wants to write when she grows up. Born and raised in the upper Midwest, Savannah’s gypsy spirit and never quit attitude keep her busy and seldom idle. For so many reasons, Savannah considers herself a ‘Contemporary Vagabond’ when it comes to writing and hopes that others find her diverse offerings as enjoyable to read as they are to write.

  As the primary owner and driving force behind Eclectic Bard Books, she considers herself immensely fortunate to see writing from varied perspectives as she endeavors to publish the authors rostered there. Working with other writers, Savannah gets to expand her horizons every day as someone brings a new idea to the table and the brainstorming begins. There is something addictive about the creative process for her and helping other authors embrace their dreams make hers a reality daily.

  Follow Savannah:

  www.savannahverte.com

  www.facebook.com/authorsavannahverte

  www.eclecticbardbooks.com/savannahverte

  Peek at another

  Flip-Flopped Fairy Tale

  Imposs-I-Bella

  Bippity…Boppity…Balance.

  We all know how Cinderella went to the ball, met her prince, lost a shoe, and got her happily ever after...but did you know that for such a magical thing to occur the universe demands a price? As a matter of fact, an equal measure in return.

  Isabella Beaufort was born at the top of the social food chain. She had everything, including being promised to Prince Christopher, until the ill-fated ball where he met Cinderella. Follow along as we learn about the other side of the rags to riches story we all know, and the price of pissing off a fairy godmother.

  Imposs-I-Bella

  chapter 1

  Flora took in the scene from her alcove near the
window, staying to the periphery. The baby to be born would be her charge. Judging by the state of the grand affair, this child would not need her. People were tripping over themselves to offer goods and services to the family, though the family wasn’t in the room. By her count, it was about time she got an easy case anyway. Being a Fairy Godmother was hard work.

  The child wailed a blistering scream just after the resounding smack across its bottom was heard. Wincing, she had to give it credit, the child had lungs. Flora withdrew her fingers from her ears after several moments and waited for the pronouncement.

  “It’s a girl.” Was announced loudly to the waiting crowd in the ante-chamber beyond the birthing quarter’s door, by a less than enthusiastic servant whose head disappeared just as abruptly as it had appeared. The crowd erupted.

  It was not a secret. The house desperately needed a female young if there was to be any hope of salvaging the family name. Generations of males had all but run the reputation into the ground. A stockpile had been secreted away ages ago for just this moment. Before long, there would be pledges and promises, and a handsome dowry to a male of worth. Flora wondered off-hand whom would be chosen, and just how long it might take. She guessed the marriage bargain would be made before the child could walk.

  Hours later, the young’s moniker was announced as the child was presented; Isabella Reede Esme Catherine Renee Beaufort. Flora decided immediately that she would call her Bella. That was that.

  Approaching the parents once they appeared, Flora bowed and gave her blessings, introduced herself, and left for the nursery to await the child. There was no need to linger, she knew exactly what was coming. A great vat of wine had already been opened and was being poured long before the family emerged from the birthing chambers. There would be drinking and merriment, singing and speculating, posturing and promises…then there would be a screaming child delivered to the nursery. Flora was going to get her break before she couldn’t.