The Prince's Bride (Part 2)

by J. J. McAvoy

  “Yep, whatever that means.” Leo popped another chip into his mouth.

  I looked back at Vicky, who was holding on to her cap for dear life. “Can I see your hair?”

  “It’s ugly.”

  “No hair is ever ugly,” I said back to her.

  But she shook her head.

  “She tried to make it straight like yours before, but it didn’t work,” Orien whispered into my ear. “She had to cut it.”

  I didn’t know what he meant until Leo grabbed her cap. “See, she said no hair is ugly, and it’s not that bad!”

  Her hair was short now, a small little curly top.

  “Give it back, Leo!” she screamed, grabbing her hat and putting it back onto her head.

  “I think it looks nice.” I smiled, cupping her face. “And if you want it long, it will grow back. Big hair is also a lot of work. My mom has to help me with mine.”

  “My mommy isn’t here anymore,” she muttered, and I was just failing up and down apparently. “Daddy tries, but he needs more practice.”

  “You both do, apparently.” I pinched her cheeks. “Don’t give up just because someone said something. Don’t go trying to copy people. It never works. You have to be you.”

  Oh, dear God. I sounded like one of those holiday specials we’d all heard a thousand times, preaching clichés to the youth.

  “See, not a big deal. Now can you help me become a knight?” Leo asked for the dozenth time, clearly frustrated.

  I listened to them talk and laugh and tease each other for almost an hour before their parents came rushing. All of them were very apologetic and panicked that their children had “disturbed” me, but in all honesty, it was entertaining. I hadn’t spent much time with kids. So, seeing them talk fast, eat, and play was like an adventure of my own.

  Victoria held on to her father, a thin, geeky-looking kind of guy with bright hazel eyes that hid behind thick-framed glasses.

  “I hope she wasn’t overwhelming, ma’am,” he said to me in English with a heavy accent. “If so, I apologize. She’s been wanting to say her hair is like the queen’s to kids at her school.”

  I froze.

  Talk about a heavy burden to carry.

  I glanced at Victoria, who looked back at me, her face bunched as she tried to figure out what we were saying. But from the look on her face, she seemed to know her dad was ratting her out.

  “No, she was great. They all were. And thank you for letting us all spend time here. It is very nice. I’m sure the kids like having a playroom; it makes you forget you are in hospital.”

  “If you’ll give us a moment, we can show you around if you’d like,” Leo and Orien’s father offered. He was the complete opposite of Victoria’s father. Very very tall and muscular. Almost like a bodybuilder, which made lifting both of his boys into his arms easy.

  I glanced at Thelma, hoping she’d tell me what to do, but she just stood and looked back at me. That wasn’t her job. No one else was here but me, and it would be a bit wrong not to see the hospital where I was treated.

  “Okay,” I agreed, allowing them to show me the rest of the children’s wing.

  And it spread like wildfire that I was there. The hospital seemed to wake up. I said hello to the night shift nurses and doctors and a few children sitting by their parents’ side. They all lit up when I came to see them as if I were someone super important. As if I had any real power over them. I was just me, just a rich girl from Seattle. I didn’t know anything. I couldn’t change the world. I couldn’t make their day easier. Nothing in their lives would change from meeting me or not meeting me. I did not want to be queen in the beginning. I accepted it eventually because I wanted to be with Gale. But deep down, I still didn’t want to be anything but my complicated self.

  “I’m not a hero,” I whispered to Thelma when I finally reached the door of my room. “I’m not even a princess. I’m a girl who fell in love with a guy who happened to be a prince. So why did those kids—that little girl—want me to be their savior?” I glanced back at her, and she stared blankly at me. “I can’t even save myself. That’s why I’m leaving.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me, miss.”

  I frowned. Of course, I was talking to the wrong person. “Thank you for the walk.”

  Entering my room, I closed the door behind me and leaned on it. I wasn’t fit to give little girls hope or to lead anyone. How could someone as scared, emotional, and weak as me be anyone’s queen? I was a coward. Nothing like my mother. And no genius like my father.

  So the answer was simple. I couldn’t do it anymore.

  Getting back into bed, I lay down and closed my eyes. By this time tomorrow, I’d be home, and this would all feel like a dream one day.

  “Is that all Balduin?” I asked, giving him the last of the briefs for the day—well, the night. Seeing as how we were once again finishing late.

  “One more thing, sir.”

  “Well? What is it?”

  “Tomorrow, formal charges shall be filed against Mr. Am—” Balduin paused, knowing I did not want to hear that name. “Since we have been silent to the media, allowing the police to do their jobs, now would be the best time to put out an official statement.”

  He set the single piece of paper, with a single paragraph, on the desk for me to read. But I did not want to see it because I immediately knew that it was inadequate. The things I wanted to say were much longer than that page—my curses and ill-wishes alone were at least two paragraphs. But I did have to boil it down. It would be simple. “I hate him, and I hope they give him the death penalty. Can that be my official statement?”

  “Sir, the death penalty was prohibited as of fifty years ago.”

  “Unless the action is taken against the royal. I know the law, too, Balduin. I did go to school for it.”

  “Yes, sir. However—”

  “Odette is not a member of the royal family?” I finished for him, and he nodded, but she was to me.

  “And even if she were, sir, such a harsh statement would be—”

  “Harsh?” I scoffed. “What he did was harsh. No, cruel, and I have to pay for it for the rest of my life.”

  He was silent for a moment before saying. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “You did nothing wrong,” I replied, reaching for my pen again and signing the statement—who cared what it said. Handing back the paper, I rose from my chair, going to the bar in the corner of the room.

  “That is all, Balduin. I wish to be alone.”

  “Yes, sir, goodnight.”

  “I wish.” I wished it would be a good night. But as I drank, it dawned on me that this would be the last night Odette and I would be together. No, that wasn’t the right word. This was the last night she and I would share the same night at the same time, the same sky and country.

  So, it was a bad night. And bad nights were good for brandy.

  “I failed, Arthur,” I said as if he were here, standing at the bookcases, listening to me. I could almost see him too. “I know—not shocking. But you failed too. Your plan to get me married and settled down. You failed too.” I drank more. “That is what you get, you know? Keeping all of these plans and thoughts to yourself. You didn’t even have the decency to write to me. Or leave some clue. Haven’t you seen the movies? Whenever an important character dies, they always leave behind some clue or a journal with the thoughts they never shared. Key to something they had been holding off to give until just the right moment. How could you leave nothing?”

  Silence.

  So, I drank.

  “You are a horrible supporting character in my story.” I frowned, staring at my glass. “Is that karma because I was a horrible supporting character in yours too? It’s a bit petty, don’t you think? You’re the older one. You are supposed to outshine me.”

  Silence.

  So, I drank.

  “Can you show me a sign or something? A dove? A double rainbow? I don’t know. Something? So I know. Am I going to get thr
ough this?” I hung my head, covering my face with my hand because all I heard was silence again.

  There would be no sign.

  No clue.

  No miracle.

  There was no one but me now.

  Grabbing a piece of paper, I did what I felt like I hadn’t done in ages. I wrote. I didn’t even know the date, so I simply wrote.

  To my dearest and most beloved Odette,

  How they have slandered you.

  How they have insulted and belittled and harmed you.

  You who have done nothing but love me for me. You who makes me laugh and write poor poetry. You who held on to me when my brother died and let me weep before picking me off the ground.

  I do not understand them—those who hate you. They explain, and still, I cannot understand them. They cannot be doing it for my sake because they have to see how happy I was and am with you.

  I do not know what to do.

  My heart wants to run away with you.

  But every other part of me is glued here.

  When and how did I fall in love with you so much?

  Was it when you came down the stairs as Cinderella? Was it the first time I heard you sing? Was it when I married you? No, that is far too late. I’m not sure when or how I fell so deep. But I did.

  And I will always love you.

  No matter where you are in this world, know there is some lonely prince in some sad palace, staring out at cherry blossoms, thinking of you, and smiling at the memories we made together.

  With never-ending love,

  G.M.

  Chapter 30

  When I stepped out of my room, I was greeted by a small round of applause from my doctors as well as my new little friends—Leo, Orien, and Victoria, who were all dressed up. Leo and Orien were in dress pants and button-down shirts and were holding flowers for me. Victoria was in a dress, though she did look a bit shy in it. Gone was her cap, and she wore a headband with a bow in her hair, and she was holding a teddy bear for me. This was all too much. I hadn’t survived cancer or anything. But the look on their faces and from the way they all stood and dressed, it was a very big deal. I wanted to respect that, so kneeling gently, I smiled at them.

  “Are these for me?”

  “Yep, we picked them at the store,” Leo said, stuffing them in my face to see.

  “Happy going home day,” Orien said, giving me his flowers too.

  “Thank you both,” I said, taking the flowers and looking at Victoria.

  She made a face and stuck the bear out to me quickly, then looked away. Leo nudged her with his elbow. “Do it.”

  “Yeah, do it.” Orien pushed too.

  I looked at their parents, not sure what they were trying to make her do, but they just grinned at me.

  “Victoria”—her dad came up behind her—“you can’t keep her waiting. And you don’t want to lose your chance, do you?”

  She took a deep breath, turning back to me with all the seriousness in the world on her face. She grabbed the ends of her skirt and did a very passionate curtsy. And just like that, my eyes began to sting, and my throat ached.

  Standing up, I did one in return.

  “Do you mind if we all get a picture, ma’am?” Leo and Orien’s mother asked.

  It made me think of the hotel manager I had met the first day I had come. Smiling, I nodded, handing the things in my hands to my mother.

  “Of course not. Wolfgang, do you mind so she can join us?” I asked him as we all moved to stand in the middle of the hall.

  “One, two, three. Smile,” Wolfgang said with little enthusiasm as he took the picture, nodding when he had gotten it.

  “Thank you all so much,” I said, shaking their hands before being led off through the private staircase into the back entrance and out into the fresh air. But only for a second before I hurried into the back of the car.

  Inside it was quieter than usual. Actually, it was just somber. Wolfgang drove. Thelma sat in the passenger seat up front, and my mother was to my left. But it was like we were all in different worlds. Through the tinted glass, I watched the city pass by and people going about their regular lives. I saw food stores that sold things I didn’t yet know how to say. All accept one. Cherumoran Kosowens—Gale’s favorite food, and I grinned, remembering our first date, then cringed as I remembered how bad I was at making them. The palace chef was secretly teaching me how to make some.

  I wonder how she is doing? I hope she didn’t feel bad about what happened. I knew how hard the whole palace had been working, especially the kitchen.

  I moved to ask Wolfgang but stopped when I saw my mother staring at me. Forcing a smile for her, I looked back out the window.

  Everything would be all right. The palace and the royals had gotten on long before me and would do so long after me.

  And Gale? The thought came into my mind like lightning. Not thunder with sound and shaking but with lightning, a flash of light in the sky. And all the thoughts of him that I had pushed down came spilling out. The farther we went outside the city and away from the palace, the more and more I thought of him.

  How was he?

  Was he eating?

  Was he blaming himself? He had this horrible habit of carrying the burden and the fault for everything. It wasn’t his fault. It was everyone else’s but his. It was even mine for running away like this again, for not giving him a chance to speak, not even letting him come inside. I did it because I was a coward and because he made me weaker each time I was with him. If he asked me to stay again, I would cave because how could I not cave to someone who loved me so much, who I loved. It wasn’t his fault.

  I wanted him to know that.

  And yet I couldn’t say anything.

  So I was leaving. I was leaving him to fight alone.

  You are horribly selfish, Odette. That thought was the thunder, and that was what shook me. The realization that I paled in comparison to the great person I wanted to be, who I wished I was. The me that I wanted to be should have let him come in, should have faced him. Should be facing everything with him.

  I should be better for him.

  I should be so much more.

  Maybe someone else will be. I thought about the long line of people who would line up after me and try to take him.

  I had a vision of him walking down the aisle with someone else—because he couldn’t be a bachelor king—and I was just a thought fading from his memory. Everything that we had been through being nothing but a memory, and that made my heart ache.

  This was why I hated thinking because I couldn’t stop when I started. For the whole car ride, thoughts of “what-if” and “what could have been” filled my mind, crushing me from the inside out.

  “We are here, miss,” Wolfgang said, and sure enough, when I looked up, we were at the private jet, waiting on the airstrip. The plan was for me to fly to France and then take a flight out of the country. That way, I wouldn’t draw any attention.

  “Let’s go, sweetheart,” my mother whispered, squeezing my hand and nodding as we stepped out of the car.

  I wasn’t strong enough.

  I inhaled the air again, my shoulders dropping. I really wasn’t strong enough.

  I was slightly hungover. But I wanted to drink again.

  Opening my eyes, I stared up at the painted ceiling above me and wondered if I would know when it was late enough for me to drink again. I didn’t want to know the time, and I didn’t want to see anyone. I was taking the damn day off. I wanted to lay here, drink, and look up at the painted baby angels on the ceiling until it was tomorrow.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  “Go away!” Didn’t I make myself clear? No one meant no one.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  I thought about throwing the bottle at the door, but I knew that would only cause more people to come—one of them being my mother. Sitting up from the couch, I glared at the door.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  “You be
tter be coming in to tell me the country is under attack!” I hollered.

  The door opened, and sure enough, it was Iskandar’s bored face staring back at me.

  “Is the country under attack?”

  “No, sir.”

  “So, you are here because?”

  “Wolfgang—”

  “Yes, I know she’s left!” I snapped, not knowing why he wished to pour salt all over me as I was bleeding. Could he not see? Did he not hear? Could he not smell the alcohol coming off me? “Iskandar, I know I have waited for you to show more emotions than a rock, but try another time?”

  He frowned at me, his eyes unimpressed. “Yes, sir. Forgive me. I should simply let Miss Wyntor meet you again in yesterday’s clothes and reeking of alcohol.”

  I froze.

  And he froze as well.

  I stared, confused. “What?”

  “Wolfgang called. He and Miss Wyntor will be here in ten minutes.”

  “Miss Wyntor as in Odette? Are you sure it is Odette?”

  “I do not know the details, sir. But it is her.”

  “But she should en route to France.”

  He shrugged. I think it was the first time I had seen him shrug.

  I glanced down at my clothes, the bottle of finished brandy on the table, and then back at him.

  “You shall be a sight for her, I am sure, sir.”

  “Balduin!” I hollered, putting my drink down and running out the door past him into the hall.

  “Yes, sir?” Balduin yelled back as I ran up the stairs.

  “Have someone clean up my study and get rid of the bottles!” I called down to him as I went up the stairs by two.

  “How long did you say?” I asked, knowing Iskandar was right behind me.

  “You have nine minutes now, sir.”

  Shit! Making it to my room, I stripped off my clothes and shoes before rushing into the bathroom, splashing water on my face and the rest of me, brushing my teeth and gargling mouthwash as quickly as I could. When I came back out to look for fresh clothes, there Iskandar stood, holding on to them for me—an amused look on his face.

  “Oh, shut up,” I snapped at him, taking the clothes. “I can’t wait for the day you fall in love and see how stupid you act.”