by J. J. McAvoy
“If you can find a place, let me know.” I laughed, brushing the free strands of hair from her face. Though it also reminded me. “Don’t think about the burdens only. You’ll have some freedoms too.”
“Like?”
“Wearing your hair as you choose?”
She paused for a moment before reaching up to brush the strands back herself. “You don’t like it this way? Everyone else says it looks better straight.”
“You could shave your head, and I’d still love you, Odette,” I replied, lifting her chin and forcing her to look at me. “I just want you to love you too.”
“You and your lines.”
“Romantic, aren’t I?”
She rolled her eyes. “If you were really romantic, you would have kissed me already.”
“Forgive me,” I said, and before she could reply, I brought her lips to mine, wrapping my arms around her.
Yes, it had been a hard day, but these moments made it all worthwhile. And slowly, what started as an innocent kiss became much more than that. I pressed her up against the columns, my hand rising to cup her breast through the material of her dress
“Gale,” she muttered against my lips.
“Bevilën,” I replied, wanting nothing more than to lift her dress.
“Don’t seduce me,” she whispered.
“Aren’t you seducing me? Out here dancing in the moonlight wearing this.”
“What is wrong with what I am wearing?”
“It makes me think of you not wearing it.” It made me want to rip it off of her and see all of her beauty underneath it, and with the way she held on to me and kissed me, she wanted me to do it too.
“Gale,” she muttered as I kissed down the side of her face, down to her neck. “Gale, we can’t. It’s bad luck.”
“Ugh.” I groaned as if she had poured cold water over me. “They’ve gotten to you, too, with these superstitions.”
“The queen believes it—”
“Now, you bring up my mother.” I pouted, lifting my head to look at her. “You truly do wish to kill the mood here.”
“Forgive me,” she replied, pouting back. “But I was clearly and specifically told while still in bed the last time that until we are married, there can be no seducing of any kind from either of us.”
“Good thing we are already married—”
“Shh.” She put her hand over my mouth quickly, her eyes wide.
Rolling my eyes, I nodded so she would uncover my mouth, and when she did, I quickly kissed her lips. “Fine, stand there, and torment me then.”
“Good, I will.” She beamed, and by God, it was beautiful. Her smile didn’t just make me smile—it made my heart beat faster.
“You are seducing me again.”
She gaped. “What? How?”
I shook my head, taking her hand instead. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
“How princely of you,” she said, squeezing my hand.
Damn it, why couldn’t I stop smiling?
I love her, my mind answered. I loved her a lot more than I thought.
The Morning Eagle
Tuesday, June 19
“Secret Affair!”
Prince Galahad met with his rumored old flame, Sabina Franziska, for dinner.
Prince Galahad is apparently tired of Odette Wyntor’s spoiled demands and welcomed a meeting with Prime Minister Ivan S. Hermenegild to have dinner with Sabina Franziska.
Witnesses at the dinner say the pair disappeared to speak privately with one another during the evening.
The Morning Eagle
Wednesday, June 20
“Palace at War!”
The feud between Sophia De Loutherbergh, Dowager Duchess of Elmburgh, and Odette Wyntor escalates as they both apparently cannot stand each other.
Sophia De Loutherbergh is fed up with the heiress's spoiled behavior and breaches of protocol.
Meanwhile, Odette Wyntor has a strong desire to Americanize the royal family (yet she still isn’t on good terms with her own family).
How will they be able to give the commencement this year?
Chapter 22
“On a scale of one to ten, how nervous are you?”
“About a thousand and one?” I replied, needing a deep breath because even though I was in bed and didn’t have to deal with it until tomorrow morning, just thinking about it now made me sick. “Mom, you know how I am about public speaking.”
“Honey, you’ve sung in front of crowds of thousands all the time,” she said while dabbing her face mask on with her pinky finger. I could even see the chef behind her preparing something in the kitchen—it was nice to see some things never changed. “You will be fine.”
“Mom, I don’t sing all the time. I rarely did, remember? That was my whole issue, but it’s one thing to sing songs I wrote in English even if I did. My biggest worry isn’t just speaking; what happens if I speak and say something wrong? I don’t know what’s worse, having a panic attack and running off the stage or speaking and no one understanding me because my Ersovian is so bad.”
“I would say running off the stage is worse, sweetheart. They will forgive you for messing up—”
“No, they won’t, and you know it!”
“Yep, you’re right. If you mess up, they will never let you live it down. So, how about throwing in the towel now, break up with Gale, come home so we can have facials, yogurt, and movie night like always.”
“Mom!”
“What?”
“You are not helping!”
“No one can help you!” she snapped back, shaking her head.
I pouted but then stopped because all I could see was “spoiled heiress” on the cover of newspapers.
“Odette, my sweet, either you will fail, or you will not. If you fail, it will suck, but it will not be the end of the world. Nor will it be the end of you and Gale. Unless you think he will dump you because you mispronounced a word or two. Or three. Four.”
“You’ve made your point,” I complained, shifting to lay farther into the pillows. “I know he won’t dump me. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to make it harder for him.”
“Who are you?” she asked, leaning into the camera, “Are you sure you are my daughter?”
“Oh, here we go.”
“No, really, because my Odette was all ‘I reject romance,’ ‘love is not real,’ ‘sad song, heartbreak song, screw love,’” she mocked me before laughing. “Now look at you. Ready to bend over left, right, back, and front to make sure your precious prince has it a bit easier.”
“Are you really my mom?” I shot back. “Because I can’t tell if you are giving me a pep talk or tear down.”
“Of course, I am your mother. Look at your cheekbones. Do you think they fell out of the sky?”
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “You never miss a chance, do you?”
“To remind you that your beauty comes from me? Of course not.”
“Well, thank you, Mom, for these cheekbones. Can we get back on topic, please?”
“Of you freaking out?”
“Yes, that one.”
“You really will not let me rest until I let you read me this speech, will you?” She sighed dramatically.
“I didn’t ask for—”
“But it would make you feel better, right?”
How did moms do this? I hadn’t even thought that it would make me feel better until she asked. How did she know?
“Don’t just look at me. Get on with it.”
I took the folder from my bedside table, sitting up straighter on my bed. “I’ll read it in English first so you can understand.”
“How thoughtful,” she said as she looked away from the camera to the chef bringing her food. “Thank you, dear. Did you add the strawberries and the—”
“And the banana, yes, ma’am. I also added just a hint of nutmeg to give it a little kick for you,” the deep voice of the chef I couldn’t see added.
“Oh, it smells heavenly—”
“Mom!” I called to remind her I was here.
“Huh? What? I’m listening!” she said, looking back at the camera. “You said you’d say it in English. Go on. You have my full attention.”
I gave her a look as she ate her yogurt, and she just nodded for me to go on, taking another spoonful. Lifting the speech, I cleared my throat. “It is with great honor and reverence that I stand here humbly before you all, the future of Ersovia. What you have accomplished is marvelous, but it’s just the beginning. As you go out into the world, whatever you may do from here, I wish you to remember to err on the path of kindness. To have some compassion for yourself as well as for others—”
“Wait, wait, wait.”
“What?”
She put down her spoon, frowning as if what she had just eaten was sour. “Is that how you are starting your speech?”
“Yes, why?”
“It’s boring. Didn’t I teach you to capture your audience—”
“Mom, it’s not a beauty pageant. It’s a speech from the royal family to the public. It was crafted by like a dozen speechwriters—”
“No”—she shook her head at me seriously—“it’s a speech from you, Odette Wyntor, to a bunch of fresh, naïve, hopeful, scared, and excited college graduates. They don’t care if all the palace helped write the speech. At the end of the day, it’s going to be yours when you say it. And to me, your mother, who loves you with extreme bias, you sound boring and scripted.”
My shoulders dropped. “I think you’ve just made my fears worse! What are you expecting me to do? I have to give this in the morning. It’s not like I can change it. I’ve spent the last couple of days—”
“Odette, breathe.”
“I can’t.”
She glared, so I took a deep breath for her.
“If you can’t change it, at the very least, deliver it with more passion—more you than you are now.”
“Of course, it’s not going to be in passionate now, in my PJs, with a scarf on my head,” I muttered.
“Okay. Keep going.”
I didn’t want to. I was too worried about how she’d feel hearing the rest of it. “Mom, I should go to bed. I have to be up early in the morning.”
“All right, go. I love you.”
“Love you too. Goodnight. Well, morning for you. But bye.”
She blew me a kiss before hanging up. I tossed my phone and the speech to the other side of the bed before falling back. No matter how much I tossed and turned, I couldn’t sleep. I just kept watching the time pass by. Frustrated, I rose from the bed, slipping my feet into my slippers and moving to the coffee table to get a glass of water. Truthfully, I wanted something strong.
“No, Odette. No wine. No, nothing but water,” I muttered to myself. I didn’t even want to eat in the morning out of fear that I would get sick. Walking over to the balcony, I opened the doors and inhaled the fresh, warm summer air.
I was glad my room overlooked the cherry blossom garden. They were beautiful in the day, but at night, they had a whole aura around them. Leaning against the balcony, I found myself even wanting to wish upon a star.
“That’s a good girl. That’s a good girl.”
Glancing over the edge, near the brushes of the trees, dressed in dark-blue pajamas, was someone sitting down, petting the royal dog. Was that the king? I checked all around to see if anyone else was near, his nurse, his guard, assistant, or anyone. But he was there just humming to himself—alone!
Quickly, I rushed back into the room, putting down my glass and grabbing my robe instead before making my way out. I didn’t even realize I was running until I nearly slipped down the stairs. I grabbed the staircase rail, catching myself, and then taking off my slippers, I continued to rush down. I hoped someone else would notice and already be there. But when I reached the garden exit and saw him still there playing with Persephone, I put back on my slippers to walk out onto the grass.
“Your Majesty?” I called to get his attention.
As he turned to me, I wasn’t sure what state he was in. But he frowned and spoke in Ersovian. “I thought all the help and staff had gone to bed?”
Well, obviously, he didn’t think of me as a member of the family. And I didn’t want to upset him, so I just smiled and shook my head. “I was about to, sir. However, I saw you out here with no assistance.”
His head tilted to the side. “You are not from here?”
I cringed. “My Ersovian is that bad?”
“No, no, it’s fine enough. It is just your accent truly gives you away, though.” He laughed at me. “Where are you from?”
“America. Seattle, specifically,” I answered, and he laughed. But I didn’t know what was so funny. “Sir?”
“Forgive me, I did not mean to laugh,” he said. “But it is just amusing. One of the queen’s favorite movies is Sleepless in Seattle. And here you are sleepless.”
I wasn’t expecting that or that information on the queen. But it was a bit funny. “Yes, apparently, we Seattleites are sleepless anywhere we are.”
“Seattleite?” he repeated the word, not understanding.
“It’s what we call people from Seattle.”
“Ah.” The king nodded, lifting Persephone and stroking her head. “With that accent, you can’t possibly be a member of staff here. I mistook you. So, what brings you to my palace, Ms...”
“Odette. Odette Wyntor.” And what brought me to his palace? His son. But I didn’t want to give him a heart attack or something. “Umm. I’m one of the commencement speakers for Royal University tomorrow.”
“Is that so? You must be highly accomplished.”
“Hardly,” I scoffed. “My father was the highly accomplished one. I’ve just ridden on his coattails. My singing is not good enough for me to do any commencement speaking.”
“If you think that of yourself, what could you possibly think of me.” He snickered, rubbing the back of Persephone’s ear.
“I don’t understand.”
“Aren’t kings just riding on coattails of their fathers and forefathers?”
Crap. “I didn’t mean it—”
“I know.” He nodded. “You meant to say you are unworthy. And yet here you are, Miss Wyntor. No matter how you got here, you are here. I felt that way once, when I received these trees.”
“Your coronation.” I smiled, remembering what Gale had just told me a few days ago. “They came from the Japanese emperor.”
He nodded, smiling in return. “You know your history. Yes, when I received these trees from the emperor, I thought, ‘What will this kingdom look like when they are fully grown? How can I possibly lead it as my father once did?’ All I did was be born, and yet that was my qualification. That small act that was not even of my choosing was all anyone needed. They all looked at me, and yet I was terrified.”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be hearing this or if I heard it right, but it was amazing to me nevertheless. “From everything I’ve seen, you’ve done amazingly. People here love you, sir.”
He grinned and glanced back to me with an eyebrow raised, and at that moment, he looked a lot like Gale. “Yes, well, thank you. However, I had a lot of help, so that much it is wondrous, actually. It is as if God steps in sometimes to guide me through.”
“If so, I’d really like some help tomorrow, sir!” I dashed forward as he wobbled a bit and dropped Persephone as he grabbed the side of his head. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just a headache,” he replied, though still hunched over.
“Let’s go back inside,” I said, walking forward. However, I had only taken three steps before it seemed all the palace had woken up, and suddenly, a frantic nurse, three guards, and Mr. Ambrose, who I saw for the first without a suit, came rushing out.
“Your Majesty!”
“Your Majesty, are you all right?”
“Call for the doctor.”
They surrounded him to help him inside.
“I’m fine. I am fine,�
� the king repeated, but that didn’t stop their fussing and checking over him.
I quickly picked up Persephone so they would not trample her.
In the midst of it all, he turned back to me. “Miss Wyntor?”
Everyone’s eyes also switched back to me as if they just remembered I was here.
“Yes, sir.”
“The secret is to lean on your strengths when you can and others when you cannot. Or at least, that has worked for me.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. But I nodded anyway. “Yes, thank you, sir.”
Just like that, they all carefully whisked him away, leaving only me, Persephone, and Mr. Ambrose in the gardens.
“Miss, if you saw him out here, you should have called—”
“You are right. Forgive me. I was caught up listening to him,” I replied.
He frowned, looking down at me. “Please return to your rooms. You have a busy day ahead of you. We cannot afford for you to be tired. Would you like some tea brought up for you?”
“No, thank you, Mr. Ambrose,” I said, handing over Persephone. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, miss.” He nodded back to me.
The whole way up the stairs, I found myself thinking over my interaction with the king. It was odd. The first time I had met him, I saw a very sick, old, kind of hateful man. And yet tonight, I saw the father Gale often talked about. I wondered if he would still have talked to me like that had he known I was supposed to marry his son—if he’d known I would be the next queen of this nation.
I wanted to say yes. But I honestly didn’t know.
Entering my room, I kicked off my slippers and tossed my robe to the other side of the room before laying down onto the bed. I thought I had only closed my eyes for a brief second— no, half a second before I heard my name called.
“Miss. Miss?”
“Huh?” I opened my eyes, nearly blinded by the sun as it came into my eyes. “Ugh. What time is it?”
“Seven in the morning, miss. We need to start getting ready.”
I was still tired, but I jumped out of bed, anyway. Now I had a team of my own, surrounding my room—dozens of people bringing in clothes and shoes, a makeup artist, a new hairstylist. They were all around, making sure everything was perfect. I was ushered from my bed to my bath, to one chair, and then another.
