by J. J. McAvoy
“You are stronger than you think, so here, let me enlighten you on what is trending. Spoiler alert—it is you. #PrincessOdette, #QueenOdette, #BlackQueens, #QueenofErsovia, #OdetteWyntor, and #WyntorNation. I would go on, but the top twenty are also about you, and I think you get my point.”
“I really do,” I said, gently fluffing the pillow under me. “I did not plan on doing this. However—”
“You saw him again, and you melted into a pool of love juice.”
“Aww, Mom, don’t say that.”
“Am I wrong?”
I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t like that. I mean, Mom, it’s complicated.”
“It’s simple, really. You’re in love with him even after all these months. You wanted to throw caution to the wind and run off with him all along.”
I really didn’t like being read like this. “What do you want me to say, Mom? I thought I had gotten over him. I thought I let go. But then seeing him again...he makes me want to trust him and follow wherever he is going. One minute, I was trying to leave him.” And the next, I was in his arms kissing him. “The next thing I knew, I ended up in this palace, smiling for photos, sitting and standing, curtsying, and having terms, rules, and protocols thrown at me left, right, and center.”
“All because of the choice you made.”
“Mom, please give me a break. I am trying to talk to you,” I begged.
She sighed, and I gave her a moment. “You are there now, Odette, so you know what to do, right?”
“Follow their rules—”
“Do not back down. Do not be bullied. You need to remember at all times that they are the lucky ones. You are not some nobody with nothing from a nowhere little town that they are bringing up to their world. You are Odette Rochelle Wyntor. Your father was one of the richest men in the world. You are to be one of the richest women in the world. You are educated, talented, and magnificent. No one is doing you a favor. You are not Cinderella. They need you! You do not need them! If anyone ever tries to make you feel inferior, remind them of that. And if you cannot do it, put me on speakerphone, and I will.”
I grinned. I loved her. “Yes, Mom, I know. I am stronger than you think too, because you raised me. The queen complimented me this morning. She liked my secret smile and wave.”
She laughed. “See, look at that. I might have been preparing you for this your whole life.”
“So, you no longer have objections?”
“Oh, I have many of those, but there is no point now. You are there. All you can do is stay strong. Odette, I am serious. I do not know how you are going to do this. I can’t help you. All I can do is remind you that you are an extraordinary young woman. You are much more talented, educated, and passionate than I ever was or hope to be. So, do not let them hurt you, okay? Be careful. Please.”
My throat ached, and my vision blurred. “Mom, you are going to make me cry. Don’t say stuff like that. It sounds like I am never going to see you again.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You are most definitely going to see me. The moment it calms down, and you get your footing, I am taking the first flight over and letting some of those so-called journalists have a piece of my damn mind,” she snapped, and just like that, the moment was gone. “There is one, in particular, I’m seeing on Twitter right now and—”
“Mom, please get off social media! It’s only going to make you angrier.” I was serious about not looking unless I had to. Sighing, I rolled onto my side, stretching out my legs.
“Fine, just call me when you can, all right?”
“All right. I love you.”
“Love you back, princess.”
I did not even correct her. Hanging up the phone, I rolled into the center of the bed and just lay there, looking up at the gold crown molding around the ceiling.
You can do this, Odette.
I am stronger than I think.
I just had to take it one step at a time.
Rising from the bed, I stepped back into my heels, fixed my dress and hair before walking across the room and back to the door. I reached to open it but paused and knocked once. Sure, enough, the doors opened, and I saw them all waiting.
“I’m ready.”
Chapter 10
“Bellecoeur Palace has six floors, 2,115 rooms, 1096 windows, 810 fireplaces, 92 balconies, 61 staircases, and a surface area of 103,902 square meters or 1.1 million square feet. Construction of it began on June 12, 1727, under King Amos II's reign, for his wife, Queen Yelena. She died a year after, so she only saw the ground broken,” Wolfgang explained as I followed him down the hall, trying my best not to yawn.
Mr. Ambrose had been called away to work on something. I’d already gone through to see the help, the staff, as well as the guard. I didn’t know if it was the jet lag or all the walking, but I was exhausted. Worst of all, Wolfgang’s perfectly alert and cheerful demeanor was not helping me right now.
“Wolfgang.”
“There are also 1,939 ceiling frescos. The palace contains paintings by artists such as Monet, Caravaggio, Delacroix, Velázquez, and Francisco de Goya and frescoes by Andrea Pozzo, Corrado Giaquinto, Juan de Flandes, and Giovanni Battista Tiepolo. There are 112 staterooms, 214 royal, and guest bedrooms, 330 staff bedrooms, 500 offices, and 298 bathrooms, which is all part of the residency palace. The other rooms, not counting the dining hall, are for students. The palace began allowing the left wing and side courtyard to be used as part of the University of Ersovia in 1903. Of course, they cannot come over to the residency area, but every once in a while, the king or queen will walk by or sit in the courtyard to surprise them.”
“Wolfgang,” I called out again, but he kept spitting off numbers and facts my brain was not ready for right now. “Wolfgang!”
“Yes, miss?” he jumped slightly, startled at the increase in my voice. He turned back to me. “Is there something the matter?”
“Is it possible that I get all of this in written form too? I really do not think I can remember all the numbers right now.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, writing down something.
“It’s about time for dinner, Sir Wolfgang,” Gelula spoke up for the first time behind me.
Wolfgang checked his watch. “Oh, I apologize, miss. We can go through the rest tomorrow, as you need to prepare for dinner. I will report back to Mr. Ambrose, where we finished and type out the rest of the information.”
“Thank you.” I was not sure if it was a break or if preparing for dinner was something that required more energy. But I did not say anything more, following Gelula back to my steps. I was too tired to talk, and I wanted to see Gale, but I was told he would be in meetings all day.
Back in the room, there was a silk Carly Cushnie blue wrap dress as well as my nude Jimmy Choos waiting for me.
“I had one of the staff choose an outfit for this evening,” she said, stepping forward.
“So, I am guessing it is the protocol to dress up for dinner every night?” I asked, looking over the clothes on the newly made bed.
“Yes, members of the royal family and guests staying at the palace must dress for dinner. So your clothes were chosen from what you brought with you. When you wish, we will select a wardrobe,” she said.
I nodded. At least that sounded fun. “Are you sure this is all right for dinner? I have a red dress too.”
“Red would not be appropriate for dinner at this time, miss,” she said quickly.
“Why? Am I not allowed to wear red?”
“Of course, you are, but the royal family is still technically mourning,” she said softly. “You do not need to wear black, but it would be best not to wear anything bright inside the palace for now. Outside, during public events, it would be more appropriate.”
I could only nod. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“It is my job,” she replied, lifting my jewelry box. “Which would you like to wear?”
I reached inside, picking out a golden cross necklace. “Less is more.”
&nb
sp; “What about your hair?”
“It’s fine. I like to do it myself,” I said quickly. Part of me wanted to fly in my hairstylist, but that might have been a bit much.
She looked me over. “Miss, I am here to assist you in any and everything. If I cannot do it, then I will find someone who can.”
“You can find someone to do my hair?” Here? I had only a few people I trusted with my hair, and when I said a few meant, my stylist, my mother, and me.
“And makeup if you wish,” she said confidently. “You simply have to tell me what you need. So please, later in the evening or tomorrow, provide me with a list of anything you need or prefer—soaps, creams, shampoos, bath salts, or scents you prefer, anything.”
I smiled. “Okay.”
Let’s see how this worked out.
The doors opened, and standing there, waiting and dressed in a dark-blue suit and a white collared shirt with no tie was Gale. He looked me up and down with a small smile on his face.
“Dear heavenly beauty, would you honor this mere prince and accompany me to dinner?” he asked, outstretching his hand. I couldn’t help but giggle, stepping out into the hall.
“I suppose so though I cannot promise to take you back to heaven with me,” I replied, taking his hand.
His fingers interlocked with mine, and I got close, smelling the spice of his cologne.
“Then I shall just have to hold you captive here with me,” he said, cupping my face. “How are you? You survived day one intact?”
I nodded. “Learned a lot about the palace. Like how many fireplaces there are.”
“Good, your day was just as boring as mine was.” He laughed. “I missed you.”
“Me too.”
It felt like days and not hours. Gale brought his lips to mine, and I kissed him back until I remembered Gelula and broke away, quickly looking around, only she wasn’t behind me. In fact, no one was there. For the first time since I had entered, we were alone in the hall.
“Our staff is not with us twenty-four hours a day,” he explained, guessing what I was wondering. “Especially when we are home. Secretaries are only around when we have work or scheduled events. Assistants are to help us prepare for those events. Personal guards usually only follow us when we are to be around company or outside.”
“But Iskandar is almost always attached to you.” It was odd not to see him or Wolfgang around Gale. I had gotten used to it.
“Now that you have said that, I just realized you have never seen me without them around.” He paused as we reached the staircase where a large portrait of a woman in white hung overhead.
“I don’t think I have,” I said, walking down the stairs hand in hand with him.
“It may not look like it with all the gold, portraits, and finery, but this is home. It takes a while to get used to, but at night, it is much less palace-like. The help has finished most of their duties and do not come up unless needed, and others have gone to their homes. So, it is like this,” he said when we got to the bottom floor, and the whole place was empty, like everyone I had seen this morning had just vanished.
“It’s so quiet,” I whispered.
“It is. When we were younger, Arty, Eliza, and I snuck out of bed at night in our pajamas to run and play.” He grinned, leading the way again. “Eliza and I would make Arty be ‘it’ and then change our hiding spots as fast as we could if we heard him coming. It would take him hours to find us.”
“Just like younger siblings. You little cheaters,” I said with fake annoyance.
“We are cheaters?’ He gasped. “Arty was the biggest cheater, and to make it worse, he tortured us. He knew where we were each time and would come close then leave, so we would have to run and find a new place to hide as quickly as possible.”
“How did he know?”
He paused and pointed up to the corner ceiling at a small, black glass dot. “We weren’t supposed to be out of bed or running around without any of our nannies. One of us could have gotten hurt. The palace is not exactly childproof. But we never were. Why? Because Arty went and told our parents and said if they told us not to, we would just keep trying. So it was better to let us get tired running around. He would go to the security room, find out where we were on the cameras, then go make us move around.”
“He did that? That is so smart.”
“That was Arty.” He snickered, shaking his head. “I mean, who would have thought of that? I got so mad at him when I found out and asked why he did not want to have fun with us. Do you know what he told me?”
I shook my head, watching his face fill with joy and pain.
“He said, ‘Gale, I am always having fun when we are all together. That’s why I told mother and father so we could play longer and not get in trouble.’” Gale stopped and looked down, clenching his jaw.
I squeezed his hand tighter, coming closer to him. “I can see your brother was amazing. He made everyone happy—you and your sister, as well as your parents and himself.”
“Exactly.” He shifted his eyes to me. “Arty was not only good at solving problems, but he could read people. Which is probably how he knew you would be perfect for me. He was the one who chose you for me. That sounds a bit wrong to say.”
“No, I get it.” I laughed. “I wish I could thank him. I wish I knew him. The man changed my life for the better.”
“I will take you to see his grave one day soon,” he whispered, leading us left and then another left before we entered the hall that had one doorman standing outside. Upon seeing us, he opened the doors, bowing his head.
I stepped into a small room—well, smaller in comparison to the rooms I had seen in the palace already. It was still relatively large, much bigger than any ordinary dining room. The walls were wallpapered in red, and several portraits of royals hung from them. But not just any royals, these family pictures were hand-painted into larger-than-life portraits.
“Odette,” Eliza called out, rising from her chair and coming around the table.
I noticed she wore dark-gray trousers and a matching blouse, and her red hair was pulled into a side braid. On it, she wore a beaded headband with floral-leaf accessories. “I have not seen you since this morning. I looked for you in the afternoon, but you were not with Mr. Ambrose. Was everything all right?”
“Hello, Eliza.” Gale waved his hand in her face. “You have not seen me since this morning, either. Are you not going to ask if I am all right?”
Eliza rolled her eyes and smacked his hand out of the way before pushing between us, linking arms with me. “I will show you to your seat.”
“Thank you, but are you showing me because you want to or because you want me to sing for you?” I asked as we walked the five feet or so to the wooden dining table set for six—two chairs on each side and one at each end.
“Let us not call it singing for me, let us call it singing for each other, as a family.” She offered me a smile, placing me at one seat down on the left.
“Oh, please God, do not sing, Eliza. You have many talents, but singing is not one, and the last thing Odette or I would like is you making us all deaf with your screeching.”
“Gale!” I gasped.
“What?” He snickered, staring back at me. He sat on the right, in the chair next to the head of the table by the door.
“That is mean.”
“It is true,” he said back.
“I’m already used to it, Odette. Do not let him fool you. He’s actually a judgmental jerk.” Eliza made a face at her brother.
He shrugged. “No one ever tells me my judgment is wrong, though.”
“Really?” Eliza walked around the table, sitting across from me and next to him. “Do you want me to tell her what you called her music?”
“I already told her, and she still likes me anyway,” he replied smugly.
Eliza’s head whipped back to me. “He really told you?”
“Depressed siren music?” I frowned and shot him a glare. “Yes, he told me, and I still
want to smack him for it. It was almost as bad as when he said I was bossy, temperamental, and prone to outburst.”
“Gale!” It was her turn to gasp now.
He sighed deeply and dramatically, giving me a look. However, amusement was still on his face. “It has been months. Will you never let it go?”
I shook my head. “When I am old and gray, and on my death bed surrounded by all my great-grandchildren, I’m going to use the last of my breath to tell them all the names you have called me.”
He snickered. “It might take you a while, my love, my dear, my sweet, my sugarplum, my Wyntorbird—”
“Please stop,” I begged, trying not to laugh.
“What? Why? I am making sure our great-grandchildren hear a very romantic list.” He winked at me. “How many of those will there be again?”
I shook my head. “I created this trap for myself.”
“Oh yes, and I plan on using it against you until we are old and gray—”
“Wow,” Eliza cut in, looking between us, “you both have completely forgotten I am in the room.”
I did for a second but shook my head. “No. Not completely.”
“Yes, just a bit,” Gale added.
She shook her head. “Odette, you should have seen how upset he was when they first said he was to marry you. Our father threatened to disown him, and he said he would rather be disowned than marry you.”
“First of all, princess loudmouth”—Gale shot her a glare—“I did not know it was her specifically, and second, I was bluffing. I knew they would not really do it, so what was there to fear?”
“We knew you were bluffing, which was why we kept pressing.”
We all stood up as Elspeth came into the dining room dressed in a long, dark-purple gown with quarter sleeves, and around her neck a white diamond necklace, the largest diamond in the shape of a teardrop at the center, which matched her earrings. Her hair was pulled into a bun. The only thing missing from her outfit was a crown; she looked like the royalty she was.
She moved to the head of the table next to Gale. And a butler stood behind her, pulling out her chair. When he did, she sat down. “Please sit.”
