The Princess and the Prix

by Nell Stark

  “She’s welcome to join us—” Alix began, but Sasha cut her off.

  “She’s dining with one of her mates from the Rhodes. Besides, I suspect it might be most helpful to keep this particular conversation royal-to-royal.”

  “You may be right,” Alix said, steeling herself for what she was about to say.

  But Sasha reached across the table to squeeze her elbow. “You look as though you’re preparing to go to war. I’m a friend, and everything you say tonight will be held in confidence.” She picked up her menu. “But before either of us speaks another serious syllable, let’s order, shall we?”

  Relieved that her secret would have a brief stay of execution, Alix focused on her own menu. Sasha was able to recommend several items but sang the praises of the oysters in particular, proclaiming them “as effective as they were delicious” with an accompanying wink. Alix wasn’t as naïve as she used to be, and when a quick retort leapt to mind, she decided not to rein it in.

  “Would Kerry agree?”

  Sasha laughed heartily even as a light blush covered her cheeks. “You’re sharp! I’d better watch my step.”

  After they had ordered, Alix asked her for the latest news from the British court, which Sasha was more than willing to share so long as Alix reciprocated about her own siblings and cousins. When the conversation fell into a lull, Alix took a sip of her cocktail and forced herself to meet Sasha’s gaze. This was the moment when she would first come out to another human being. Her hands were shaking, and she folded them in her lap.

  “On a more serious note,” she began, “I imagine you may have put the puzzle pieces together that the personal matter I wanted to discuss has to do with sexual orientation. Recently, I’ve been struggling to understand my own.” Her mouth was already dry, and she paused to take another sip. “The truth is that for the past several months, I’ve been in a relationship with Thalia d’Angelis.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Sasha’s response was immediate and her delight unfeigned, as far as Alix could tell. “Thalia is wonderful. Insane, but wonderful.”

  Alix felt her smile mirror Sasha’s. “That’s her exactly.”

  Sasha reached across to take her hand. “I’m so very happy for you, Alix. And for her.”

  It was such a simple declaration—the obvious and correct response to a friend telling you about her new relationship—but Alix didn’t take it for granted. Her own family would be shocked and disappointed when she told them, and much of the public would likely mirror that response. Tears pricked Alix’s eyes and she blinked quickly in an effort to banish them. As much as she thought Sasha would understand, she would much prefer not to break down.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say.

  “Just because it’s wonderful doesn’t mean it isn’t also stressful. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m…” Alix stopped herself from saying that she was fine. “I honestly don’t know how I am.”

  Sasha’s expression was empathetic. “And how is Thalia feeling?”

  Alix brushed her fingertips across the metal outline of her phone in her pocket. It felt like a talisman, connecting her to Thalia. The last message had been several hours ago—that she had landed safely and was en route to her hotel. The long flight had made her stiff, and she had scheduled a massage. Alix knew massages were part of the routine for any professional athlete, but even so, the thought of someone else’s hands roaming all over Thalia’s body lit a wholly irrational fire in her brain.

  “She’s still in some pain,” Alix said, not wanting to betray too much, even to Sasha, “but healing steadily and determined to race in Abu Dhabi.”

  “I’m glad to hear the latter,” Sasha said. “And in terms of your relationship?”

  Alix remembered the intensity that had shaken Thalia’s voice when she had spoken so eloquently of all the ways in which she had fallen in love with her. “We went through a difficult patch earlier this summer. But—and this might sound terrible—when she was injured, everything became much more clear for both of us.”

  “That doesn’t sound terrible. Just human.”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of their meal, but as soon as the waiter left, Alix picked up the thread of their conversation. “I’m finding it difficult to stomach the cloak-and-dagger antics required to keep this a secret. It’s exhausting to live in fear, and I’m starting to seriously consider making some kind of announcement.”

  A pained look crossed Sasha’s face, and Alix wondered whether she was reliving the chaotic time that had followed the world’s discovery of her relationship with Kerry. “It’s a good idea to be proactive and try to control the narrative at the beginning,” Sasha said slowly. “But it will slip out of your hands almost immediately.”

  Alix didn’t like the sound of that, but she knew it was the truth. No matter how she decided to come out—the staging, the media outlet, the clothing, the words—she would have no decision about how their message was received. And the will of the public was capricious. No one knew that better than Sasha. But the public was comprised of strangers who didn’t know her. Their disapproval didn’t matter the way her own family’s would.

  “I’m concerned about the public’s reaction,” Alix said, “but I’m more worried about my family’s. There’s a reason why Monaco hasn’t followed France’s example in passing a gay marriage bill. There’s a reason why I was the one to attend your wedding, instead of Florestan or Camille.”

  Sasha’s laugh was sharp enough to cut and devoid of humor. “How ironic, since it’s where you met Thalia.”

  “That hasn’t escaped me.” But Alix couldn’t seem to smile. “I’ve not offended you, have I?”

  “Offended me?” Sasha put down her fork and leaned in close. “I’m so glad you were there. I know you’re a woman of science and you probably don’t believe in coincidence, but I do. The universe put you at our wedding as a deliberate move in whatever chess game it’s playing.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree there,” Alix said lightly, “but I am in your debt for introducing us.”

  Sasha dismissed that claim with a wave of her hand. “Back to your family. What do you think will be their primary objection?”

  Alix had considered this very question repeatedly. “My parents remain devout and conservative Roman Catholics who believe this pope is too liberal, so I think they will object on religious grounds. But more pressing than that, I think, are the objections about scandal and besmirching the family name.”

  Sasha’s eyes narrowed. “Florestan and Camille have both been through scandals, haven’t they? I distinctly recall photos of her sunbathing topless on a yacht somewhere. And it’s an open secret that he and Monique had a shotgun wedding.”

  “Ironically, they were angrier about the photos of Camille.”

  “Ah, the double standard.” Sasha raised her glass sardonically, as if to toast it.

  “And proof that they react poorly to scandals of a sexual nature,” Alix added. No longer hungry, she laid down her fork.

  “But this isn’t a scandal,” Sasha said, picking up another oyster. “You and Thalia are dating exclusively, correct?”

  “Yes.” Alix felt an echo of her old insecurity and mentally shoved it aside.

  “Then you’re one step away from being an old married couple. What’s less scandalous than that?” When she grinned, Alix couldn’t help but smile in response.

  “If only the rest of the world would see it that way.” Her smile faded. “I can’t even predict how my siblings will react.”

  Sasha swirled the last remaining sip of her cocktail in the bottom of her glass. “You can never know how anyone will react. In my experience, coming out begets surprises, both positive and negative.”

  She drained her glass, signaled for a waiter, and ordered what Alix recognized as a ridiculously expensive bottle of champagne. “And forget paying for this meal. It’s your coming out party, and I’m buying.” She raised one hand to forestall Alix’s protes
ts. “There’s just one thing more I want to say. You will feel alone, sometimes, despite having Thalia. But you aren’t alone. Kerry and I will do everything we can to drum up support for you, if you’ll let us.”

  “Yes, of course,” Alix said, tears pricking behind her eyes. “Thank you.”

  As she was attempting to collect herself, the champagne arrived. Once the waiter had poured it and retreated, leaving them alone again, Sasha raised her glass.

  “To you and Thalia and new beginnings,” she said. “Love conquers all.”

  “Love conquers all,” Alix murmured, missing Thalia more intensely in that moment than she ever had before.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Alix had barely slept, but all she felt was anticipation. In a few short hours, she would be off to London to attend the British Grand Prix the next day. She had booked a room at the Savoy but that was only for the sake of appearances. Once Thalia had fulfilled her media obligations, they would return to her flat for the evening.

  She smiled in the act of raising her coffee to her lips. The days of their separation had been interminable, and she couldn’t wait to hold Thalia again, to feel the lithe strength of her body and hear the soft catch of her breath when they kissed. Would these cravings ever disappear? They were distracting and sometimes downright inconvenient, but now that she knew what it was to love and desire with such intensity, she hoped the emotions never faded.

  At the sound of the sliding doors, she turned in surprise. It was just past six in the morning—early even by her father’s standards. Yet there he stood, dressed in immaculate tennis whites. His expression was grave, and the nape of her neck prickled in sudden anxiety. Had he found out? The question exploded in her mind, consuming every other thought.

  “Hello, Pomme.”

  As he seated himself across the small table, her mental paralysis thawed just enough to allow a trickle of rational thought. Her secret was making her jump to conclusions. She had to act normally. He could be here to discuss anything.

  “Good morning, Father.” By some miracle, her tone was light.

  “I’m glad I caught you before your departure to London.”

  Caught you. His words seemed sinister, and she struggled to maintain a poker face. “Oh?”

  He leaned forward, intent. “I’m concerned about your relationship with Thalia d’Angelis.”

  The world dimmed as her vision blurred. She had nothing to be ashamed of—she had to remember that, if nothing else. If this was the moment in which she came out to her father, she wanted it to be defined by courage, not by the terror crawling beneath her skin.

  “What is it that concerns you?” Pride filtered through her panic at the steadiness of her voice.

  Strangely, her father appeared relieved at her question. He sat back in his chair and sighed. “Pomme, you have a good heart. A trusting heart. I know that Thalia has assisted you with your recent philanthropic efforts, but I want you to be wary of her.”

  He didn’t know. It was all she could think. He didn’t know.

  “Hear me out,” he said, misinterpreting her shock. “She has a terrible temper and a deserved reputation for promiscuity. When you consort with her, going so far as to allow her to be a houseguest…” He shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts had taken. “You must consider how that will look to the public.”

  The anger was a drumroll in the back of her head, and as it filtered through the haze of her adrenaline rush, she latched onto it for strength. “I’m not sure I take your meaning.” It was her turn to lean forward, propelled by the momentum of her frustration. “As you said, Thalia has been incredibly generous with her time, resources, and connections. When she was injured, it seemed only right to offer her a place to convalesce. What do you suppose the public will criticize?”

  He looked as though he had swallowed something distasteful but didn’t want to admit it. “Pomme, she is a…a lesbian. If you continue to associate with her, people might believe you are one as well.”

  Hysteria bubbled up in her chest, and for one fraught second, Alix wanted to laugh. This could be the instant, she realized. Right here, right now, she could throw out her arms and embrace her identity. I am. That was all it would take. No more secrets, no more lies.

  But if she took the opening he had inadvertently handed her, the aftermath would be entirely unpredictable. She didn’t want everything to spiral out of control—not right away. How had Sasha put it? It’s a good idea to be proactive and try to control the narrative at the beginning. Yes. That was what she wanted. To come out on her own terms, at a time and place of her choosing, in words she had carefully selected and arranged.

  No, she would not come out today. But neither would she sit by and listen to him slander the woman she loved. Thalia deserved so much more than that, especially from her.

  “I appreciate your concern, Father, but I don’t share it.” She met his gaze and held it. “Thalia is a talented athlete who has been obliged by rampant sexism to fight hard for a position she has earned many times over. She may be a controversial public figure, but I know her to be a kind and generous person. We, of all people, understand how capricious the media can be. If its portrayals of our family aren’t accurate, why would you assume its portrayal of Thalia is? It would be absurd and cowardly for me to renounce her company simply because some tabloids might find scandal where there is none.” She made a show of looking at her watch, then drained her cup and stood. “I need to catch the jet. It’s a lovely day for tennis. Enjoy it.”

  “Pomme.” She turned to face him, fearing he had seen through her words to the depth of emotion beneath. “Be careful.”

  Alix could interpret neither his expression nor his tone. Was that a paternal admonition? Or a threat? Either way, she didn’t plan to heed it in a way he would approve of.

  “Have you ever known me to be otherwise?”

  She walked away briskly, tamping down the atavistic part of her that wanted to run. Once inside the palace, she pulled out her phone…and realized her hand was trembling. She desperately wanted to hear Thalia’s voice, but at this hour she would almost certainly wake her, and Thalia needed all the rest she could get as she continued to heal. Besides, her father had just made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t safe to speak to Thalia under his roof.

  Tonight, they would be together. It was enough. It was more than enough—more than she had ever dreamed. She might not have been searching out love, but now that it had found her, she would be damned before she let anyone frighten her away from happiness.

  *

  Once she could afford it, Thalia reflected as they slowly ascended to her floor, she was going to purchase a fancy penthouse with its own elevator. The other residents crowding this one made it impossible for her to slide her arms around Alix and ask her what was the matter. Then she caught sight of Claude, jammed into the back corner, and remembered just how rarely Alix was ever alone.

  She had been waiting as planned in the lobby, but her smile had been forced and her embrace all too brief. Had the intervening days opened up a space for regrets or second thoughts?

  Thalia felt her stomach sink even as the rest of her body rose. She watched the numbers illuminate, one by one, and latched onto their orderly progress in the face of her panic. She was jumping to conclusions. Alix was here, wasn’t she? She wouldn’t be here if something in her heart or mind had changed. Unless, of course, she had come to break up.

  Her ribs twinged as she took a deep breath. She was being neurotic. Alix had nursed her back to health even when they’d been broken up. Whatever was wrong, they would work through it together. She had to believe that.

  Despite her silent pep talk, nerves made her fumble with her keys before she finally slotted the right one into the lock. “After you,” she said lamely, knowing that Claude would have to inspect her apartment before they could be truly alone.

  While he poked around, Thalia gave Alix the tour, such as it was. She traveled
so much that her flat was barely lived in. At least that had made it easy to clean. The space was unremarkable except for the shelf full of trophies in the living room, and the balcony, which had a view of the Eye.

  “I had a meeting there,” Alix murmured. “While you were in Belgium.”

  A spasm of grief made Thalia’s throat tighten. But when Alix reached out to quickly squeeze her hand, relief took its place. That comforting, affectionate touch—Alix wouldn’t have bestowed it if she were about to break off their relationship. Right?

  “All clear, ma’am.” Claude said. “This building is quite secure. I will wait in the lobby.”

  He didn’t look at their joined hands, and Alix made no move to pull away. That was new.

  “I won’t be returning to the hotel tonight,” she said. “And I won’t be going out. You should take the evening off. I promise to call you well in advance of when I wish to leave here tomorrow.”

  Thalia felt her jaw drop, and she quickly closed her mouth. Alix intended to spend the night, and had just said as much to her bodyguard. Relief filtered through her shock at Alix’s forthrightness. In the past, she had been worried about the trustworthiness of her staff, and now she was no longer making an effort to hide their relationship?

  There was a long pause during which Alix and Claude regarded one another silently. Then, he dipped his head. “Very well, ma’am.”

  “I appreciate your discretion,” Alix said.

  “Your Serene Highness,” he replied quietly. “I hope you know that you can count on every member of your security detail to protect not only your life but also your privacy.” He turned slightly to include Thalia in the conversation. “Have a pleasant evening.”

  Only as the door closed behind him did Thalia realize she had been holding her breath. When she released it on a long exhale, Alix squeezed her hand again. Thalia wanted nothing more than to crush their bodies together, but she forced herself to wait for Alix to come to her.