To Steal a Groom

by Cora Caraway

  The villa at the end of the drive is massive. Columns support three stories, though they’re so thin I’m surprised they aren’t sagging under the weight. The roof is the same red clay that dominates the city. I park next to the fountain, squinting to see the figure that tops it. I make out Cupid, his arrow pointed at my heart and his expression vaguely menacing.

  A little unnerved, I head to the door. It swings open before I can knock.

  “Grace!” Natalia exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here!”

  The guard did say that I was expected, didn’t he? Or was he mistaken? Two seconds in and I’m already off-kilter. This isn’t a good start.

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course. Make yourself at home.” She lets me in, closing the door behind me.

  I step into the foyer. At first, the rush of cold air is welcome, a relief from the high summer sun. But as the heat from my skin is leeched away, I realize that it’s absolutely frigid in here. I feel like I should be wearing a down jacket.

  “People always complain that I keep it too cool in here,” Natalia says, “but I won’t apologize. This blasted city is always hot as blazes. They should thank me. I probably just lowered the temperature two degrees by opening the front door.”

  “I don’t mind the cold.” Though I do wonder why she wants to marry a prince of Lions if she can’t stand the climate.

  “Would you like anything to drink? I would have to get it for you myself.”

  “You don’t have any servants?” I look around, noticing the immense silence of the house. Now that I’ve lived in the palace for a bit, it’s strange that no one else is around, adding noise and life to the scores of rooms.

  “Never. I don’t like the idea of servants.”

  “Neither do I.” It’s a relief to finally say it. “I don’t like making people wait on me, or having them perform tasks that I can do myself. I know they’re paid good money at the palace, but I feel like they’ll resent me.”

  “You should send yours away.” Natalia pours herself a glass of champagne, neglecting to offer one to me. “They’re forever pawing through your belongings, looking out for things to steal. They enjoy eavesdropping, and you never know who they could sell that information to. You can’t trust any of them.”

  “Oh.” I can’t imagine Eris doing any of those things. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You should, at least if you value your sanity. I enjoyed the help when I was young, but I no longer have the time or patience to keep an eye on them.”

  “Mmm.” I try to make a noise that’s as noncommittal as possible. I guess Natalia isn’t the person I can trust to help me unload my conflicted feelings about servants.

  “Anyway, what brings you here? Is it trouble with Damon? I can speak with him for you. Our fathers are close, so I’ve known him most of my life.”

  I should probably move the conversation away from something as charged as which of us knows the prince better. “Damon’s fine. We both wanted to congratulate you and Marc again.”

  “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you. How gracious of you to share the spotlight.” She takes a sip of her champagne.

  “Actually, I’d like to discuss that with you.”

  “You know what I’d like to discuss? The security. What do you think?”

  I can only blink at her. “The what?”

  “Come on, you’re supposed to be the expert. The guards, the dogs, the cameras. What do you think? Would a thief be able to break in here, in your professional opinion?”

  “I really wouldn’t know.”

  “Oh, Grace, it’s not all that different from stealing a car, is it?”

  I sigh. I guess that would get back to Natalia sooner or later. “I’m out of the business, unfortunately. You’ll have to get someone else to advise you.”

  “Would it keep you out?” She pierces me with her gaze.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Fair enough.” Sinking onto a chaise lounge, she seems to uncoil. “I rented this place for the security, though I can’t fathom why anyone would break into a dump like this.”

  I look around the room, with its vaulted ceilings and leather furnishings. I’d like to know what kind of place wouldn’t make Natalia turn up her nose. Would anything less than a palace suffice?

  “And I have one more security feature.” Natalia claps her hands, making me start. “Booboo!” she calls. Her shrill voice echoes off the walls. I hear the soft clicking of nails on tile.

  A tiny head peeks around a corner.

  “There you are. Come here, Booboo.”

  The dog, an Italian greyhound from the look of it, doesn’t budge.

  Natalia leans forward. “Come.”

  Booboo crouches down.

  “He doesn’t like people. Isn’t that right, Booboo?”

  He growls low in his throat.

  “I got him from the finest breeder in Milan. I’ve trained him to attack on command. Attack, Booboo!”

  The dog cowers, snarling at her.

  “Don’t growl at me, you ungrateful cur.” Natalia raises her champagne flute as if preparing to throw it. “Get out if you can’t behave.”

  Booboo bares his teeth, but skitters away. Though not intimidating by stature, I wouldn’t put it past him to snap and go for someone’s jugular. Living with Natalia doesn’t seem to be a picnic.

  Natalia sighs dramatically. “Useless mutt. I should have gone with my instincts and gotten a tiger.” Raising her glass to her lips, she drains the contents. “Would you like a tour?”

  It would probably be rude to refuse, so I let her lead me through the villa with its rambling rooms, silk hangings, and wide windows. For someone who seemed to disdain the villa, she has an awful lot of stories about where the marble countertops were quarried, how the owner’s niece is married to a count, and how one of the neighbors hosted a reality show in Sweden.

  I search for a clock, wondering how long this tour is going to last. It feels like hours since we started, and we’ve only reached the second floor. Though I don’t want to alienate Natalia, I came here to discuss something important.

  “This,” she says, opening a pair of French doors, “is my favorite room.”

  She ushers me in, so I grudgingly step inside. “I can see why. That balcony is beautiful. You must get a nice breeze in here.” I hope my small talk isn’t as awkward as it sounds to me.

  “It’s nice enough. But the best feature of this room is the computer.”

  I glance at the desk. The computer is a sleek model with a wide screen. I didn’t really picture Natalia as a computer person. I’m going to need to cut this conversation short before she starts spouting off about how great the motherboard is and how the monitor once belonged to Charlemagne.

  “Look, Natalia, I really enjoyed the tour, but I can’t stay much longer. It was great talking with you at the party last night, and I wondered if I could discuss something with you now.”

  “What is it?” She bats her eyelashes at me.

  “Like I said, Damon and I couldn’t be happier that you and Marc have gotten engaged.”

  Natalia pulls out a fan, lazily airing herself. “And let me guess, you want me to push our wedding back so you can have the spotlight.”

  “That’s not exactly it. But Damon did propose first, so it would be kind of you to let us have our wedding first. I’m sure we could think of a solution that makes us both happy.”

  Natalia brings up the fan so that it covers the lower part of her face, then snaps it shut. “Let me tell you something, Grace. I’ve known Damon and Marc practically their whole lives. It’s taken me years to get a proposal and you procure one in what, a week? Tell me, how is that fair?”

  I stare at her, stunned. “I’m sorry you see it that way.” What else does she want me to say?

  “Don’t fret. I’m working to even the scales.” Natalia drops into the chair by the computer, smiling sweetly. Her mood changes are giving me whiplash.

  She sw
ivels in the chair, daintily crossing her legs. “Tell me, are you enjoying Valda’s services?”

  “How did you know about that? I haven’t even told Damon yet.”

  “Oh, Marc overheard his brother fretting over your dress troubles. Since he has the queen’s ear, Marc suggested that she lend you Valda. Of course, all of this was my idea.”

  I wish I could sink into a couch and lie down for a while, but something deep inside urges me to be wary.

  “I hear that Valda’s the best,” Natalia says. “Is that right? Of course, my seamstresses back in Andova are working on my gown. My father was so pleased when he heard of my engagement, he insisted that no expense was to be spared. You should really tell your own parents soon, Grace.”

  Did I not make it clear last night that that wouldn’t happen? I breathe in. I can’t let Natalia know she’s getting to me. Besides, she’s probably not doing it on purpose. People from happy families have trouble fathoming just how unhappy families can be.

  “Thank you for your concern. I’m sure my parents will find out someday. And thanks for letting the queen know that I was having trouble finding a dress. That was very thoughtful of you.” I won’t tell her how horrible the meeting with Valda went, or that I’m contemplating relieving her of dressmaking duties. Natalia doesn’t need to know any of that.

  She eyes me from across the room, her eyes gleaming like Reggie’s when he spies a piece of meat.

  I glance at the door. Maybe it’s best that I go. I don’t enjoy feeling like prey. “Anyway, thanks for listening. If you could consider what we talked about, I’d really appreciate it. I’m sure we can come to some sort of compromise, especially since we’ll be sisters-in-law soon. Again, congratulations to you and Marc.”

  Natalia tilts her head back. “Oh please. Drop the façade.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Drop it. I know you’re pissed. I designed it that way.”

  “What do you mean?” I feel faint. The room starts to spin.

  “Come, now. Don’t play dumb.” Natalia rises, dragging her chair behind her. “I set that insufferable Valda on making your dress. I’m getting married before you.” She pushes the chair under me, and I fall into it.

  “Why though?”

  “Because I can.” Natalia wheels me over to the computer monitor. I see the two of us reflected in its dark screen, me looking confused, her watching me with a twisted smile.

  “I thought we were friends. We were getting along last night, weren’t we?”

  She scoffs. “You really are naïve. Why would I ever be friends with you? You’re nothing. Maybe even less.” Natalia pushes a button, and the screen flickers to life. Her fingers fly over the keys, but I still catch her password out of habit. QueenBee456. I wonder how long this duke’s daughter has thought of herself as a queen.

  “I really can’t believe a nobody like you thought for one minute that you could survive in a royal court. Here there be monsters, and you lack both a compass and a map. Why,” she clicks on a file, “you could even be a monster yourself.”

  “I may be a thief, but I’m no monster.” I clench the leather armrests, hoping she can’t hear my voice shaking. “I’d rather not play your sick games, but I can if I have to. I’m willing to bet that the palace servants like me more than you. Where would you be if I convinced them not to help you with planning or preparations?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  She just looks at the screen, where a video has started to play. The camera looks down on a room. With rising horror, I recognize the hotel room from last night. But maybe this is something else. Maybe this has nothing to do with me or Nic.

  We enter, and my stomach drops. A chill runs through me as Nic sets me on the bed, then goes to inspect the jammed door. He sits next to me. The video is silent, all possible sound replaced by the ringing in my ears. In the cool of the computer room, my heart pounds so loudly that it must be reverberating through the city. I’m sure Natalia is basking in my fear.

  Nic wipes away my tears. It’s unclear whether the gesture is caring or sensual. It would be easy to assume the worst. I cringe as I see myself arch toward the bodyguard and raise a hand to his face. I wish I could scream at myself to stop.

  Natalia pauses the video. I’m left hanging, my hand frozen in time, reaching toward Nic.

  “Keep going.” Despite the dryness in my mouth, I manage to croak out the words.

  “Why’s that? You have a guilty conscience?”

  “I need to know what happened!” I’m shouting now, but I don’t care. It’s all here, on this video. My salvation or my damnation. I need to know.

  “You should have asked politely then. There’s no need to shout.”

  I look up at her. “Please. I’m begging you.”

  She frowns, as if deep in thought. “Let me think. How about … no.” Natalia laughs. “It’s for your own good. You don’t want to see the rest of this tape. And trust me, neither does Damon. There’s a lot more, but for now I’ll spare you the embarrassment. I suggest that you let us have our date, as well as anything else I want. Otherwise, I’ll give Damon a private showing. That would solve one of your problems though. You wouldn’t have to worry about having a wedding at all.”

  Knocking the chair away, I stumble from the room. Natalia doesn’t try to stop me. Bursting through the front doors, I fumble with the car keys. Blinking through my tears, I step on the gas and fly away from that awful woman. No matter how fast I go, I can’t escape the image that’s burned into my mind. Me, frozen on a screen, reaching for Nic. What the hell happened after that? Scenarios flash through my mind, none of them pleasant.

  Despite the long drive, the guard barely manages to open the gate in time. Pushing the car to its limits, I speed back to the palace. I am in such deep trouble. What am I going to do?

  7

  I roar into the garage, wheels screeching as I stop just short of a wall. Two spaces over, a car’s hood is popped, a man bent over its engine. With a back that broad, it can be no one else. Slamming the door behind me, I step from the car. We need to talk.

  “Nic, what happened?” I grab his arm. “Tell me!”

  The man spins around. “Miss Sparrow?” He wipes a hand dark with engine grease along his brow.

  My eyes dart between his bushy eyebrows and the wrench in his hand. It’s not Nic. I’ve just harassed some poor mechanic. “I’m sorry,” I stutter. “I…” I can’t think of a plausible reason for grabbing him. All it would take is one little lie to smooth things over. Why isn’t one coming to me?

  “Are you all right, Miss Sparrow?”

  I can feel my face burning with embarrassment. Everything is crumbling around me, and I can’t even fib anymore? My tongue has gotten me out of the tightest spots before. Now all I can do is turn and flee. The mechanic calls after me. Great. Who knows how many people he’ll tell about the prince’s crazed fiancée?

  Whirling, I race outside, pounding up the palace steps. All I want is a dark corner where I can close my eyes and breathe for a moment. But where can I go? The room with the blue door is no longer mine, and Damon’s room still feels like his. I have nowhere to call my own.

  A hand clamps around my arm like a vise. “You can’t go running around the palace like this.”

  I never thought I’d be so glad to be reprimanded by Nic. “I was looking for you.”

  “You were?”

  “You, or somewhere to hide.”

  He pulls me behind a marble pillar and into an alcove. It’s empty except for a rusting suit of armor. “Will this do for now?”

  I nod, feeling spent. Though I wish I could lean against something, Nic doesn’t seem like a great option at the moment. I choose the wall instead, pressing against the cool stone. “What do you remember?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  “Nic!”

  The bodyguard clenches his fists. “I don’t remember anything, I promise. I’d beat it out of
myself if I could. I want to know as badly as you. My job is on the line, as well as Damon’s trust.”

  Damon. Oh god. It would kill him to hear this conversation. I press my palms against my face, wishing I could escape this somehow. Even if Nic and I did terrible things, I just want to know. This purgatory is unbearable.

  “You’re shaking.” Nic reaches out a hand, then pulls it back. “I could take you to the wine cellar. It’s dark and cool down there, with over 50,000 rare bottles. I’ll split any one you like with you. We could both use some calm.”

  “We can’t do that,” I whisper. “What would that look like?”

  Nic reddens. “You’re right, of course. I wish I could do something though. I feel like this is all my fault. I should have broken that hotel door down, but I was a bit far gone by that point.” He rubs his forehead. “Marc kept handing me drinks, it didn’t seem polite to refuse.”

  So Marc’s involved as well. Of course he is.

  “Besides, I wasn’t even on duty that night.” He bites off a curse. “Shouldn’t matter. The prince’s bodyguard is always on duty.”

  “It isn’t your fault, Nic.”

  He looks up at me, eyes haunted. “What if it is, though?”

  I don’t know what to say. What if it’s mine as well, regardless of what Marc and Natalia did to set us up? I’d have no comforting words for myself.

  There’s the sound of a main door opening, footsteps along the flagstones.

  “We’ll talk later,” Nic says in a low tone. “We don’t want word to get out.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if some rumors started floating around. I might have scared a mechanic just now. Thought he was you.”

  “What?” His eyes widen with alarm. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Nic! Don’t kill him!”

  “Are you insane? Remind me not to cross you. A quiet explanation will suffice.” He straightens his collar.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I protest.

  “You just … try to keep quiet. At least until we have any idea of what happened.”