by Laura Burton
I hold my breath, waiting for Prim to tell me more. So, the Queen wanted to see me?
“Then, it was the King who wanted to put me up for adoption?”
“That’s what they were arguing about. Mother pleaded with him to change the law, but he was resolute. The adoption was forced.”
“I don’t understand this one child law.”
“In 1912, twin boys were born to the King and Queen. But under the law, one of them was slain. The child was my father’s uncle and I don’t think he ever recovered from learning that.”
“Killed? But that wouldn’t happen now, would it?” I shoot back. The world is very different now from what it was in 1912. We’ve been through two World Wars, after all.
“Father said, ‘It is better for Violet to have a full life without us…’ I truly believe he loves you... And me. But perhaps looking at me is a stark reminder of... Everything.”
“I’m sorry, Prim. You’ve not had it easy.”
“You’re apologizing to me?” Prim says, incredulously. “I’ve ruined everything. I should never have come to see you.”
“But you’re coming back now, right?”
“Well, yes…”
“Why am I sensing a ‘but?’”
“Alejandro has a boat and he’s offered…”
“You two are spending a lot of time together,” I note aloud.
“So are you and the Prince. I believe you called him Cristiano? Don’t tell me you’re falling––”
“No,” I lie quickly. Then the two of us fall into a silent stale-mate. Neither one wanting to admit the other person is right.
“When is Alejandro planning on setting sail? He’s supposed to be watching Juliet’s.”
“Well about that… We were wondering if it might be agreeable to you for us to close the ice cream parlor for a few days...”
“And what will I say to my parents?” I interject. Losing a few days of business sounds like an expense the business cannot afford.
“You haven’t told them the truth?”
I laugh at the surprise in her voice. “Funny enough, no. I didn’t fancy telling my adopted parents that I had switched places with my twin sister––who is a princess, by the way––and am now at the palace with my biological parents. Only, they’re gone and I’m left with a fake fiancé who is––”
“Is what?”
I shut my eyes and press my palm up to my eyelid until I can see swirling patterns. Cristiano is Prim’s betrothed. Not mine. And thanks to the ridiculous laws of Andonna, which she cannot escape, she must marry the prince and produce an heir within the year. I take a big sigh and muster all of the self-control I require to keep my voice steady.
“He’s perfect, Prim. He’ll be an attentive husband and a doting father.”
Chapter 12
For the first time all week, I’m barely able to sleep a wink. All night I kept tossing and turning in the bed, one I am starkly aware is not my own, replaying the conversation with Prim.
My imagination runs wild. The queen gives birth, and cradles her newborn girl lovingly in her arms. A few minutes later she delivers another baby and everyone is astounded.
Then the sadness kicks in. Maybe the King looks at his Queen forlorn and kisses her forehead. “It’s for the best,” he mutters. The Queen sobs, giant tears rolling down her cheeks.
How did they choose between us? Did they take the second baby away? Or did they discard the first one?
I picture the panic on the King’s face, knowing what happened to his uncle.
Maybe what he did was an act of love? And even though the Queen never forgave him for sending me away, he felt convinced he was doing the right thing.
A knock on the door jolts me from my thoughts and I stretch out with a yawn.
“Good morning, Princess,” Mae walks in, brandishing a large vase of violets. “I have a gift for you.”
I slide out of bed, prompting Teddy to plop down. He scurries off through the open door, and a young woman follows him with a leash.
I turn back to Mae as she shuffles in and lowers the vase to sit at the window. The purple flowers look exquisite and a little white envelope sits among them. Mae gives me a knowing smile before she marches out.
“The stylists will be here in twenty minutes,” she says before shutting the door.
I pick up the envelope and open the little card.
Dearest Prim,
I hope you find these flowers pleasing for your room.
I look forward to the day I call you my wife.
But until then, I shall call you my ‘Violet.’
Yours
Cristiano.
And just like that, every worry in my mind evaporates. I spin on the spot, squealing like a teenage girl. If only Cristiano knew that my name really is Violet.
The thought of him calling me by my real name floods me with giddiness.
The stylists loosely curl my hair and only pin half of it up. The soft yellow dress has an A-line skirt and is the most comfortable piece of clothing I’ve worn since I’ve arrived.
The door opens and Mae returns with Teddy, who swaggers into the room, making a sharp yap to announce his arrival.
“Hello, Teddy Weddy, did you have some breakfast?” I ask, bending down to tickle his ears. He lifts his head and belches into my face. The smell of dog food confirms my suspicion and I resist the urge to laugh.
“Teddy Weddy?” Mae repeats, looking at me with a brow arched. I stand and play with my hair, realizing that in all of my excitement I’d slipped out of character.
“It’s a nickname Cristiano gave him, and I thought it’s rather adorable, don’t you?” I ask, putting on my best impression of Prim again. Mae’s face softens and she inclines her head.
“You two appear to be quite besotted,” she replies. Her words enter my body like a pair of snakes and writhe in my gut. I force a smile, and Mae motions for me to walk out. “Speaking of… Your prince awaits you in the breakfast hall.”
As I enter the hall, Cristiano leaps to his feet. His tender gaze follows me as I join him at the table, and after a beat, the two of us take our seats in unison.
I’ve become used to this formal stuff now. And it’s not a moment too soon either, because today is our first royal outing together.
Cristiano and I exchange a light and pleasant conversation over breakfast. With so many members of staff standing around, it’s not a time nor place either of us can be candid.
Cristiano remarks on how pleasing the weather is for our trip. I tell him how much I am looking forward to getting out of the palace grounds.
And I am. I’ve no idea what Andonna is like outside of the gates. It’ll be interesting to meet the people and see what the towns look like.
After breakfast, Cristiano helps me into the back of a stretch limousine.
I climb in and buckle my seatbelt, trying not to gasp, as Cristiano joins me and shuts the door. I’ve never been in a limousine before, so it takes everything in me to keep a poker face and not look around in awe, making exclamations.
I want to point and say, “Look, Cristiano, a TV! How cool is that?” or “Wow, these leather seats are so comfy,” and “What do you think is in that little cupboard?”
But then Cristiano picks up my hand and all of my thoughts fizzle away. As the car engine roars into life and we pull forward, all I can do is stay frozen under Cristiano’s intense stare. He looks up through his lashes as he lowers his full lips to the back of my hand. Then he brushes his fingertips across my knuckles and everything zings.
“It’s going to be difficult standing by your side, and not holding this gorgeous hand,” he murmurs. His voice so deep and silky, it turns my insides to goo.
“Oh, don’t worry. Once we’re in the public eye you won’t want to be anywhere near my hands. I’ll be so nervous it’ll be like holding a cold, slippery eel,” I say without thinking. I notice something flash across Cristiano’s eyes and he gives me an odd expression. I can’t decide
if it’s a smile or a look of repulsion.
Did I sound too much like… me? I was so caught up in those eyes, I totally forgot to act like Prim.
Idiot.
Despite my authentic––disgusting––self shining through, Cristiano does not drop my hand. He rests his other hand over the first and squeezes. I wiggle the fingers now trapped in a Cristiano hand sandwich, wishing I could slap myself for being such a weirdo.
“I see it now,” he says softly. And I won’t be surprised if he means he actually sees the weirdo behind the mask. Then he does something completely unexpected. He leans in, and for a paralyzing moment, I think he’s going to kiss me.
He presses his lips to the corner of my mouth instead, and nuzzles my cheek. The moment lasts milliseconds before he pulls back and finally frees my hand.
“Your father told me you have a rare quality that I will adore,” Cristiano says. The car bumps along what I can only imagine is a cobbled road, and the muted cheers tell me we’re getting close to our destination, but I refuse to look away from Cristiano. I’m hanging on to his every word.
“What might that be?” I ask, trying to sound mildly interested. I’m dying with curiosity. Just then, the car lurches to a sudden halt and the door opens, breaking our conversation. I force a perfect smile as Cristiano climbs out and reaches in to help me. Camera flashes nearly blind me when I step into the sunshine, and an uproar of cheers do some definite damage to my ear drums. I walk on autopilot, following the security team to the stone library steps. Thankfully, princesses don’t have to speak in public. At least, that’s the way it is in Andonna. I stand dead still, scanning the crowds as the town Mayor presents us with a ridiculously large pair of scissors.
“I now declare this library open.” The mayor gestures for us to cut the large silk ribbon stretching across the front. It takes a couple of moments for me to get in position with Cristiano and I giggle nervously, trying not to drop the heavy scissors. Finally, we cut the ribbon, and everyone cheers.
Thirty seconds later, the PR manager is rushing us back into the limousine and we’re headed back to the palace.
Wow. All that fuss for less than five minutes in the public eye. I watch the streets whizzing past as the car trundles down the road.
“Those scissors were quite large…” Cristiano begins. I look at his thoughtful expression and laugh. “Huge, right? I pictured myself dropping them on your foot.”
We share a chuckle. Then Cristiano takes my hand again and I marvel at how natural it feels. “I’m impressed at our skills. We cut that ribbon together without any practice,” he says. I grin at him.
“Well… I guess if we were a boy band, you’d call us N’sync.” I add a wink, and then the sense of dread––too familiar by now––takes over as I realize I’ve lost myself in the moment and am acting like Violet again.
Cristiano’s face flushes with color and he lets out the loudest, most beautiful laugh in all the world.
“That was terrible,” he says, shaking his head.
Chapter 13
Cristiano and I spend the whole evening sitting by the fireplace, watching through the French patio doors as falling stars shoot across the dark blue sky. Hours pass by like minutes when I’m with him. I’m in awe of how comfortable it is to sit in silence with him.
Finally, Mae announces my bath is ready. She makes me feel like an overgrown child. I return to my room with a fluttering heart.
After my bath, I get into a comfortable position in bed. Teddy is sprawled out over my lap when my phone rings, and the sudden vibration sends him leaping into the air like a startled cat.
I take the call, biting my lip at the sight of Prim’s picture on the screen.
“Violet. You’ll be pleased to know that Jo has booked a boat next week,” Prim says, sounding far more chipper than I feel. She’s wrong, I’m not pleased. Not at all.
But in truth, the guilt of not being totally onboard with her plan is all-consuming. This is her life. Cristiano is her prince. Still, my heart wants the impossible.
It doesn’t matter how much I remind myself of the facts. Part of me clings to this tiny hope that Cristiano and I can keep living our fairy tale life, and that Prim never comes back.
“Jo has come up with quite a genius plan,” Prim continues, unaware of my thoughts. “She’s booked the evening boat. Her brother, Frank, is going to collect us from the port. Then he’ll drive us to the palace. Remember Jo made excuses that she needed to take family leave so she could help her brother? If anyone sees us, we’ll just say he’s all better now and driving her back. It’ll be the perfect alibi.”
I smirk at the word alibi. It’s as if she’s preparing to rob a bank, or something.
“And how do you explain to the guards that you are coming into the palace grounds?” I ask, seeing more than one hole in this genius plan. Prim hums.
“I don’t know…” She says. “But I’m sure Jo will think of something.”
I choose not to argue with her, opting instead to sound agreeable. But her next question hits me so hard, it takes all of my acting skills not to cry.
“Have you been getting to know the Prince? What is he like?”
Of course Prim is curious about her fiancé. She’s going to marry him in ten days, then make a baby with him.
My face twists at the thought and my stomach goes rock hard, like it’s been filled with lead.
Sensing my tension, Teddy starts licking my arm, perhaps in a vain hope that his doggy saliva might soothe me.
“He’s a total Prince Charming, I think you’ll be very happy––”
“That’s not what I asked,” Prim interjects and I can’t help but detect a little irritation in her voice. “I asked you what he’s like. What are his hobbies? Is he kind?”
I suck in a breath through my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut. I seriously do not want to be having this conversation. But I know that it’s my job to fill her in on these details. After all, by the time she gets back, the wedding will be just a few days away. That’s hardly enough time to get to know him. So, I pull the covers up to my neck and exhale deeply, trying to keep my voice steady as I reply.
“He’s an excellent swimmer,” I begin, slipping into my impression of Prim’s accent. “He tells me that he enjoys clay pigeon shooting. Oh, and he reads the classics.”
“He sounds... Lovely.”
I get the impression she was going to say boring but changed the word at the last minute. Maybe I did make him out to sound boring, but he’s not.
I should tell her about the dimple in his left cheek when he smiles broadly, or that he laughs at my jokes. I should try to describe the addictive masculine scent that wafts off him, and how it makes me come undone every time I’m near him. How he’s affectionate whenever we’re allowed to be close, and all the layers of his personality that I’ve observed so far. I’ve barely gotten to know him, but every little reveal is a thrill to discover.
I can’t bring myself to say anything out loud, however, and I suddenly realize I’ve zoned out, fantasizing about Cristiano. This whole time, Prim has been talking.
“...and I’ve eaten so much ice cream, I’m quite certain my clothes will no longer fit me by the time I return.”
We banter back and forth for a while, though my heart isn’t in the conversation. Man, I miss ice cream. Just thinking about the mint chocolate chip from Juliet’s makes my mouth water.
After the call ends, I try to ignore the hunger pangs in my stomach. But no matter how many times I roll over or try to get into a comfortable position, sleep won’t come.
Annoyed by my constant movements, Teddy grumbles and slinks off to the very bottom of the bed. He curls up there, nose to tail.
Just then, a wicked thought crosses my mind. What are the chances that there’s ice cream in this palace?
I slide out of bed and tip toe barefoot to the walk-in closet with bated breath, hoping no one can hear me creeping around.
I’m not sure what I expect wi
ll happen though. I’m a grown woman. So what if I want to pace my room in the middle of the night?
I flick the light on and gasp. Ever since I arrived here, people have picked out my clothes for me. Even the accessories. So I never paid much attention to this closet.
Now alone, I take my time to look around.
Shelves and shelves stretch along the back wall and up to the ceiling. There must be a few hundred pairs of shoes, sitting pretty on display.
I peek into all the white drawers. Expensive diamonds and jewels look back at me, crested in gold and silver. Or platinum maybe.
Two large clothes rails sit on either side of the closet, full to bursting with outfits. I’m surprised to find a whole collection of pants; I have worn nothing but dresses all this time. As I rummage through the hangers, I cannot find one single item of denim.
I take a silk robe and put it on over my silver pajamas. The material slips delicately through my fingers, softer than cashmere, as I tie the belt around my waist. In the absence of any slippers, I opt for a pair of thick cotton socks and tuck the bottom of my pajamas into them. It’s not a sexy look, but I’m all about practicality. Plus, the stone floors are freezing without the sunshine to warm them.
The palace is like a maze, with lots of narrow halls and a room for everything. I have no idea where the kitchen is, but I figure it must be close to the breakfast room, or the dining hall. Soft moonlight lights my path as I scurry forward like a child out of bed. No one seems to be around. I descend the staircase. A warm amber light draws my attention as I round the corner, and I freeze, looking at the golden strip underneath one of the solid wood doors.
I find the courage to lean in, and all I can hear is a low humming. Like the sound of a dryer on its fastest spin. I move on, holding my breath.
The palace is dark and eerie at night. The moonlight casts massive shadows as it hits the looming furniture.
I only take a few wrong turns before I finally find the kitchen. The door squeals as it opens and I walk into the dark room with a goofy smile, pleased with my achievement and looking forward to my reward.
