His Sword

by Holly Hart

  “Oh, God, Dante,” I pant. “Dante…”

  With one final buck of his hips and a groan that sounds more like an animal’s grunt, he explodes into climax, his shaft throbbing like a heart in my hand.

  I collapse on top of him like a rag doll, but he still has enough strength to lift me and position me so that we’re facing each other. His perfect chest hitches and jumps as he catches his breath.

  “That was… incredible,” he huffs.

  “Was it really?” I ask. The need in my own voice is startling.

  “Really incredible.”

  I stroke his chest as it rises and falls, kissing his nipples. He runs one hand through my hair as the other strokes my breasts.

  A squawk of static comes over the radio, making me jump.

  “Your Highness, Ms. Sparks,” says the pilot, Antonio. “We’re about to begin our descent into Morova. Please buckle in for the remainder of the flight.”

  “I think I needed to be buckled in a while ago,” I say, pulling my panties back up onto my hips. Dante helps me with my sundress. The feeling of him seeing my naked body even after the deed is done makes this seem even more intimate.

  He gets dressed quickly, like all guys do. A quick cleanup later and it’s like nothing ever happened. Which is good, because Marco chooses that moment to walk into the cabin. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if he’d gotten bored of his conversation with the pilots a few minutes earlier.

  “Everything good in here, sir?” he says.

  “Absolutely fantastic,” Dante says, glancing at me. “Couldn’t be better.”

  Actually, it will be better. Just wait until Amandante’s wedding night.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  23. INTERLUDE

  “Emilio!”

  Shit, he thinks, dropping his spoon. I didn’t even get to take a sip of my coffee first.

  Isabella sweeps into the parlor of his palace quarters with an iPad in one hand and a headful of steam. Her hair is standing up at odd angles, and the lines on her face are more pronounced without her usual makeup. She looks like she ran here straight out of bed, which doesn’t surprise him.

  “Mother,” he says blandly. “Let me guess: you’ve been online.”

  She ignores the gibe and drops her tablet onto the table. It’s open to the front page of the TMZ website.

  “What. The hell. Is this?” she snarls.

  “That appears to be a fourth generation iPad, Mother,” he says, blowing across the rim of his antique china cup. “Gold in color.”

  “Don’t be smart with me,” she snaps. “Dante got engaged to the American woman last night!”

  “So it would seem.”

  “Why is he not scouring convents?”

  “Because he’s not an idiot, Mother,” Emilio sighs. “I came up with that on the spur of the moment. Do you think I was expecting him to tell me he’d found the decree in the sword?”

  She paces the room, her long dressing gown flowing behind her. Morning sun streams in through the crosshatched windows, though there’s no lake view beyond. The Steiger side of the family is relegated to the shoreline view, which needles Isabella to no end.

  “How is this possible?” she asks. “Could the woman actually be a virgin?”

  “I assume you’ll find out,” says Emilio. “If so, it would seem your plan has gone tits up, as the Americans say.”

  She stops pacing and glares at him.

  “This isn’t for me,” she says. “It’s for you. With Dante out of the way, you’re the obvious choice to take over the monarchy.”

  “So you’ve said, many, many times since I was a boy.”

  “I didn’t go through stealing the decree and hiding it just to have things blow up in our faces at the last minute!”

  Emilio slams a hand on the tabletop hard enough to spill his coffee.

  “What is wrong with you?” he barks. “It was a stupid idea and it didn’t work. That’s the end of it. Just be glad Dante never found out about it. I shudder to think what he’d do to us if he knew.”

  She ignores his outburst, instead scanning the screen of her tablet.

  “It’s not the end,” she says. “All we have to do to trigger the referendum is prove that the marriage is a sham. They couldn’t possibly have fallen in love in two weeks.”

  Emilio rolls his eyes. “And how, exactly, do you plan to prove that two people aren’t in love?”

  Isabella smiles and turns the tablet screen towards him.

  “Look at this,” she says with a smile. “There are plenty of Morovans who are saying this is too quick, that Dante shouldn’t be marrying an American commoner. They already have a low opinion of him. I know we can exploit this.”

  “You do realize that Dante is my best friend?”

  “There are no true friends in royal courts, dear.”

  “Then do whatever you feel you need to,” he says. “But leave me out of this.”

  Isabella stands and snaps the tablet’s case shut.

  “As much as you think you’re apart from all this, you’re not,” she says. “I’m afraid that your future relies on this plan just as much as mine does.”

  Emilio stops mid-sip, leveling his eyes across the rim of the cup at his mother.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’d best pour yourself something stronger than coffee,” she says. “You’re about to learn some very unpleasant things.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  24. DANTE

  “I have good news and I have bad news,” Maria says, pointing at the ninety-inch screen on the wall of her office.

  Amanda and I sip coffee as we look over the Internet tabs open to various social media feeds, videos and news sites, all either showing or talking about what we did last night. Except for the flight back home, of course – that would have to be on a different kind of website.

  I see Amanda biting her lower lip. I’ve been dealing with this kind of nonsense for so long that sometimes I forget it’s all new to her.

  “What’s the bad news?” she asks.

  “I’d rather start with the good news,” says Maria. “Amandante is trending like mad. It’s the top hashtag on Twitter and Facebook, and Renaldo’s sources inside TMZ tell him they’ve cleared the decks for non-stop coverage for the next two days.

  Amanda’s lip biting intensifies. “That means they’ll definitely be calling my dad. I better text him and tell him not to show anyone his shotgun collection.”

  That gives me an idea.

  “Why don’t we bring him here now instead of waiting until the wedding?” I ask. “It would take him out of that environment, and it would give him an opportunity to get to know me and the twins.”

  Her eyes brighten, making my heart smile.

  “Could we? He said he could get a neighbor to look after the cattle for a while, but I’m not sure if he can do it on such short notice.”

  “One phone call and we can have a crew of people there within a day,” I say, looking at Maria. “Right?”

  Maria looks a bit confused, but nods. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Amanda say with a wide smile. “I haven’t seen him since last fall. And I can’t wait to show him around Morova! The only foreign country he’s ever been to is Canada.”

  “Excellent,” I say. “I’ll dispatch the Falcon to pick him up as soon as he can be ready. He should be here within two days. And I’ll make sure it’s stocked with Budweiser.”

  Amanda’s eyes are as wide as her grin now.

  “Is this really happening?” she asks. “My dad’s never flown before, and his first time will be in a private luxury jet?”

  “It’s really happening,” I chuckle. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

  “Oh my God, he’s going to shit a brick when I tell him!”

  Maria’s expression is enough to set me off laughing. I’m getting more familiar with American sayings, but she hasn’t ha
d as much time around Amanda as I have.

  “Now that we have that sorted,” Maria says, “we can move on. Amanda, your altercation with Giselle Ranette is what’s getting the most buzz. Millions of women are showing support for you.”

  She clicks a button on a device in her hand and a particular tab quickly fills the screen. It shows a tweet from a young woman who calls herself @MuricanGurl95: Way to go, Amanda! Don’t take shit from haters! BTW, Dante is smoking hot! #Amandante

  “There are hundreds of thousands more,” Maria says. “The daily news cycle has also had pundits on to analyze the incident to death.”

  Another click and a video fills the screen. The dark-haired lady anchor from MSNBC is speaking.

  “One thing’s for sure: Prince Dante’s fiancée is not your typical royal bride-to-be,” she says. “Amanda Sparks may have come out of nowhere, but she’s made her debut in a big way. Is the world ready for a rowdy royal with a right cross? Judging by the reaction online, I’d say the answer is yes.”

  Amanda’s cheeks flush. “It feels like they’re talking about someone else,” she says.

  “You get used to it,” I say, placing a hand on hers.

  Maria clicks off the screen and calls up another. This one is a close-up of Chancellor Francesco Huber’s jowly old face.

  “As I said before, the news isn’t all good,” she says. “Reaction here in Morova is a bit different than the rest of the world.”

  She starts the video that shows Huber standing in front of the Crown Council Building with a microphone in his face.

  “Obviously the government doesn’t condone violence of any sort,” he grumbles. “But we shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that the prince is marrying someone with no royal background – on a whim, mind you, let’s not forget there was no warning of this. And this incident is just one of many examples of the prince’s poor judgment.”

  “Do you think it reflects poorly on the nation?” asks the reporter.

  “Of course I do,” Huber says, scowling. “We are a highly sophisticated nation, with a world-renowned reputation for dignity and earnest behavior. This issue does not end here, I can tell you that.”

  The screen goes blank just as Amanda mutters: “Way to get yourself uninvited from the wedding, asshole.”

  She turns to see the expressions on our faces and blushes again.

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  I grin and shake my head. “We were all thinking it, Amanda. You just had the courage to say it.”

  “Agreed,” says Maria. “Unfortunately, Huber will be at the wedding, and he’ll use it as a soapbox to push his anti-monarchy agenda. We need to be prepared for that.”

  I turn to Amanda. “Does your father have a saying for situations like this?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “Screw him and the horse he rode in on.”

  Maria and I sit in stunned silence for a moment before cracking up. Amanda joins in and the three of us laugh loud and hard for a long while.

  When we’ve calmed down, Maria resumes.

  “Huber is only one of our problems,” she says. “You know Isabella will not be pleased with you marrying a commoner.” She turns to Amanda. “I’m sorry, dear, you know that the word has a different meaning for us.”

  “Whatever, bitch,” Amanda says with a mock scowl, throwing up a dismissive hand.

  And we’re all off giggling again. God, I think I’ve laughed more in the last week with Amanda than I did in the last year.

  “Amanda, please,” Maria begs, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “This really is serious business.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

  “I think you should tell Isabella about the proposal as soon as you leave here. She’s probably already angry that she didn’t know about it beforehand, so you’ll need to convince her it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

  I nod. Maria’s right about Isabella’s temperament – even though she herself isn’t a royal, she definitely acts like one. My mother’s family were simple barons, the bottom of the nobility. If Isabella hadn’t married into the Steiger family’s money, she would essentially be a drain on the Trentini fortune.

  “If Isabella’s husband were still alive, he would have loved you,” I say to Amanda. “Uncle Hans was a lovely man. He was the one with the money, but he never acted like it. Isabella married into money, and the only reason she has a title is because her sister married into royalty. Yet to hear her talk, you’d think she was the monarch of Morova.”

  Maria says: “That’s exactly why you need her on your side. She has the ear of the chancellor, and she’s an icon among Morova’s elite society.”

  Amanda shakes her head, as if trying to understand something.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she says. “It’s just that your family is so different from mine. I grew up in Little House on the Prairie.”

  “And I grew up in Game of Thrones,” I say.

  “I guess we shouldn’t put it off any longer,” she says, standing up and smoothing her dress. “Let’s go convince the evil witch that Cinderella will make a good queen.”

  I join her and we walk to the door.

  “Git ‘er done,” I say, dropping Maria a wink.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  25. AMANDA

  Dante takes my hand as we stroll through the breezeway that leads to the north end of the palace, where Isabella’s quarters are.

  “We need to start keeping up appearances,” he says.

  His palm is so warm in mine. I think back to the last boy’s hand I held back in high school – Greg Puckett’s, and it was sooo sweaty – and I have to bite down on my tongue to keepfrom giggling.

  It’s another postcard-perfect summer morning. I could get used to this. In fact, I guess I better get used to it, because it’s going to be my life from now on.

  Or at least for a year. But I don’t want to think about that right now.

  “How are you feeling after all of that?” Dante asks, and for a moment I think he’s somehow read my mind. But I realize he’s talking about the meeting with Maria.

  “I actually feel good,” I say. “I mean, crazy is becoming the new normal for me. What’s a little more, right?”

  “I feel the same,” he says. “And as soon as the wedding is over, things can go back to normal. Or at least as normal as my life can ever be.”

  As we pass the entrance to the palace’s north garden, I see a familiar shock of white hair sweep out from a nearby alcove. It seems Auntie Isabella has found us instead.

  “Dante, darling!” she calls. “And Amanda! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  She greets Dante with a kiss on the cheek, then takes my hands in hers.

  “There’s the bride to be!” She looks me up and down, smiling from ear to ear. “So beautiful. And the ring!”

  She holds up my left hand to get a closer look at the magnificent piece of jewelry on my third finger. I’m still trying to get used to the weight of it.

  “Your mother’s ring,” she says, glancing at Dante with tears in her eyes. “She would have been so happy.”

  Dante smiles and takes my hand again.

  “I take it you’ve seen the news this morning then,” he says. “It was a bit of a crazy evening, to be sure. Not exactly what I had planned.”

  “Oh, please,” she says, waving a hand. “I never cared for that Ranette woman. Too skinny. And her family is full of deadbeats. I won’t even mention the teeth.” She turns to me, beaming. “Not like my Amanda here. Such a natural beauty.”

  I’m flattered by the attention, but it’s a bit overwhelming, too.

  “You’re too kind, Your Grace,” I say.

  “Let’s dispense with the formalities, darling. Isabella or Auntie will do.”

  “Thank you, Auntie. I’m honored.”

  This isn’t what I expected from her, but it’s just another crazy thing to add to the pile today. I suppose it’s not shocking to t
hink she might actually have a heart and care about her nephew’s happiness.

  Dante says: “Can I assume that we have your blessing then, Auntie?”

  “A thousand times over,” she says. “I’m so happy you’re finally settling down, and with such a lovely girl. It’s wonderful news for Morova. Now, have you chosen a date yet?”

  Dante and I exchange a glance. This might be where the other shoe drops.

  “Actually,” I say timidly, “we decided to make Dante’s birthday into the wedding. We thought that, since everyone was coming anyway, why not kill two birds with one stone?”

  Isabella’s eyes go wide. Is that a flash of anger in there? Here it comes. I see Dante wince slightly, bracing for impact.

  “What an absolutely brilliant idea!” she caws. “Royal courtships are overrated. What’s the point in waiting, I say.”

  “Git ‘er done” is out of my mouth before I realize it’s even open.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Sorry,” I say. “Just a saying my father has. It means the sooner the better.”

  “Ah,” she says. “Speaking of your father, Maria tells me he’s on his way here soon. And that he’s an honest-to-God American cowboy. Is it true?”

  “It sure is,” I say.

  “I can’t wait to meet him!”

  The thought of Isabella interacting with Dad is almost enough to send me over the edge into laughter, but I manage to hold it in.

  “We’ll introduce you as soon as we can,” I say.

  “Please do. Now, is there anything I can do to help with the planning?”

  Dante takes her hand.

  “Maria and Amanda are already well into things,” he says. “All we need from you is to be there in the front row.”

  “Thank you for your kind offer,” I say. “Dante doesn’t quite understand just how much work goes into a wedding. I’ll be sure to call on you soon. Your expertise will be invaluable.”

  Isabella smiles and glances at Dante.

  “This one is a keeper,” she says. “You’ve chosen well.”