by Lara Swann
And I feel terrible. The poor, poor thing.
It reminds me of the videos that initially put me off meat in the first in the first place. The poor animals, kept and slaughtered and—
“Here.” The man opposite me piles several helpings of something onto my plate, before I can say anything.
No. No way.
Then the other man opposite - on the other side of the woman - starts talking.
“We got this one ourself, you know. With Charles, of course. It’s a distinct tradition for us to hunt the animal served at this dinner, and we haven’t failed once - not even with all the Princesca-attenciano young Nicolas has presented to us.” He nods at Nicolas, and I suddenly remember who the two men are. The King’s brothers.
They…hunt…the…?!
“Yes.” The other brother, whose name I can’t remember, adds with a rare smile. “But it helps that it’s one of the Kings favorite sports, eh? We must be out at the royal hunting grounds…what, every few weeks?”
Oh god. I don’t want to know this. I don’t want to think about this.
How could they?!
And Derek…what about him…would he…
I try to cut that thought off. I’ve never judged anyone for their choices, but I’ve never known anyone who’s actually killed a defenseless…shit. My eyes drift back to the pig, being carried down the other end of the table now, and I feel sick.
Totally, utterly sick.
I glance down at my plate, at the potato that I was going to force down that’s now covered in…fuck.
Nausea rises again, my head spins, and I can’t help it. Not anymore.
I stand abruptly. Aware that the movement is enough that everyone will turn and look at me, and unable to care anymore.
“Um—excuse me.” I say.
Then I step away from the table, and walk out of the side exit that we left through this morning. My heart is beating in my chest, and I have no idea where I’m going, but I just know I have to get out of there. Away from that.
Hopefully, they’ll just think I need the bathroom or something. I was drinking quite a bit of champagne, and then water. Of course, I’m sure leaving for the bathroom in the middle of that banquet-like meal is still incredibly rude. But, fuck.
I take deep breaths as I keep walking, worried that someone might come after me, and not having a clue what I’d say if they did. My head is spinning horribly now, and I can feel bile rising in the back of my throat as the combination of too much to drink, seeing that, and no sleep hits me all at the same time.
I need somewhere to pull myself together. And as I glance up and down the hallway, I know that this isn’t it. The only thing more embarrassing than everything that’s just happened would be if someone came by and saw me right now.
Walking a few steps further, I listen at the first door I come to. I can’t hear anything behind it, and as I hear someone coming down the hallway, I get over my nerves and push it open, hoping like hell it’s just a dark room with a bit of quiet and space. I certainly didn’t get the impression that these rooms were used when we came down here earlier.
And I walk right into a sitting room. An occupied sitting room.
With Derek’s grandmother looking straight at me.
Oh, fuck.
Seriously, what is up with my luck at the moment? Did I break a mirror somewhere? Do something awful in another life to get cursed with the last few days?
I freeze. When the hell did she leave dinner?
“Sorry!” I say, for what seems like the thousandth time today. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
Which still doesn’t explain why I’m wandering around opening random doors when I should be at a dinner in my honor, but…fuck it. I turn to go before I can make any more of a mess of things.
“Wait.” His grandmother - I think her name was Adele? - stops me with just a word, her tone more crisp and authoritative than I’ve heard from the King so far.
She gives me a piercing look, and I can’t even close my eyes against the scrutiny. Then she points to the chair opposite her.
“Sit.”
I really don’t want to. But I pushed my way into her room - interrupting what looks like her dinner - and now it would be even more rude to leave. I try to push down the swirl of nausea as I make my slow way over to the chair.
“I really am sorry—” I start, but she shakes her head, still regarding me carefully.
I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering what the hell she wants. If it’s just to berate me, I’m pretty sure I’m doing a good enough job of that myself without her help.
“Do you actually want to join the Aldoran royal family, girl?” She asks, her voice cool and clear.
I swallow. Then I nod.
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
I can’t say anything else - the whole reason I’m here is because I supposedly want to join their royal family. But for the first time, I feel a stab of guilt as I say it. I didn’t mind the welcome presentation earlier, I was okay talking to all sorts of people tonight - but lying to her somehow feels worse.
Her eyes narrow, and I wonder whether she can tell. I wouldn’t be surprised.
“I don’t believe you.”
Fuck. Double fuck.
Is everything Derek planned up so quickly? I panic, just a little bit, wanting to make this right. To clear up the mess I’ve created.
“I do, your…” Shit, I have no idea how to refer to her. “Umm, I really do. I know this hasn’t gone well so far, but I’m trying—”
“You’re not trying.” She interrupts, as casually as if we were discussing the weather. “You’ve turned up here, as a guest of Salducco hospitality, and you’ve shown no respect for our people or customs at all. If you truly wanted to be part of my family, why do you care so little about offending everyone you encounter with your terrible manners?”
I swallow again.
What customs? I want to say. What manners?
I don’t know anything about Aldora! And Derek said it would all be fine, but it’s not, and she’s right.
It’s totally unfair to turn up here, in another country, and ignore their customs and traditions. It’s rude and outrageous and I’d never dream of doing it in any of the places Carly and I were planning on visiting - hell, half the fun was learning all about the culture before going. But with Aldora, I don’t know anything at all.
And right now, I’m cursing Derek to hell for it. Maybe he was okay with me offending everyone we meet - but I’m not.
“Well?” His grandmother asks, still waiting for an answer.
And I say the only thing I can think of. The truth.
“I do care. I don’t want to offend anyone, I really don’t. But…I don’t know much about Aldora. Or your customs. And I don’t even know who I’ve offended or how - I can’t read anyone here. I…I’m having trouble picking up on social cues and I just…I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry.” I take a deep breath, but she’s still looking at me calmly. Unlike Derek’s father or brother, she doesn’t even seem offended by anything I’ve done. She’s just stating everything as she seems it. “I - could you tell me? Please? What I’ve doing wrong?”
Apart from spilling things everywhere, and having too much to drink, and running out of meals hosted in my honor…those are pretty obvious.
It seems far too late to be asking, but it’s what I want to know. What I’ve wanted to know the whole time from Derek.
She purses her lips together, looks me up and down. Judging and assessing, but for once I don’t mind. Maybe because from her it seems fair? I don’t know.
“I can see that.” She finally says. “Derek has not always had the most avid respect for our customs, himself. And men are terrible at explaining these things anyway.”
I hold my breath, actually wondering for a moment whether this might work. Whether she might understand, just a little, and offer me some help instead of the judgment and condemnation I’ve faced so far.
Before she can finish, t
hough, there’s a knock on the door - and her gaze flicks away from me. My heart jumps into my throat, not wanting anyone else to see me here - the bathroom excuse would be a really hard sell if I was found casually chatting to the King’s mother.
“Come.” She says, totally unaware of any of that. Or just not caring in the slightest.
The door opens - and Derek steps in a moment later. The burst of relief I feel takes me completely by surprise. Only a few moments ago, I was fucking annoyed at him. In fact, I might still be anyway. But I’m glad to see him anyway.
He came after you.
“I was just looking for—” He sees me and stops. “Oh.”
“The Princesca-attenciano and I were just talking.” She says, as if it’s that simple. Maybe it is.
I wonder whether it means anything that she referred to me by that title. Acceptance, maybe?
See, these are the things I really need to learn.
“Okay.” Derek looks between us, and I could swear his expression is a little wary. “Do you mind if I…maybe…talk to her myself, Granna?”
Her eyes flick from me to him, before she gives a slight incline of her head.
I breathe out a little, relieved to be going with Derek, and getting out of this questioning…but also disappointed that we were interrupted. There was a moment there that I thought—
“Are you okay to come with me, Hanna?” Derek asks, softly enough that it feels like he’s trying to soothe a wounded animal.
The thought makes me roll my eyes internally, until it brings back the thought of dinner, and then I feel nauseous again. Though it’s mostly passed, I think. His grandmother was enough to distract me from it for long enough, it seems.
I nod, and slowly get to my feet.
“Umm…thank you.” I say, feeling like I should say something at least. “For talking to me. It was, helpful, I think.”
Or it had the chance to be helpful. But I appreciate the attempt anyway.
I make it to where Derek is standing at the door before she speaks again.
“Come and find me tomorrow. I’ll answer your questions.”
I turn around, surprised. And for a brief moment, I think I see a hint of a smile on her face. I breathe a long sigh of relief, and smile back at her, nodding.
“I will. Thank you.”
Derek doesn’t say anything, but I can see his puzzled expression as we leave the room.
The moment we’re alone in the hallway, though, he turns to me immediately.
“Oh fuck, Hanna, are you okay?”
He pulls me to him as he says it, wrapping his arms around me. I’m stiff in his arms, I can feel it, but after a moment I can’t help but relax. It just feels so fucking good to have his arms around me again.
“What happened?” He murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at me. “Did someone say something? When you walked out, I swear I—”
“I’m a vegetarian.” I say.
It sounds stupid, and lame, that that could possibly be the reason for all this drama. But it is - well, that and the alcohol and no sleep and not enough water - but fuck it, I can’t say I’m ashamed of it.
He winces immediately.
“Fuck. I didn’t know. I didn’t think to say—” He bites his lip, shaking his head. “Damn it all to hell. I’m sorry.”
I can’t help it. Even though he does seem sorry, I narrow my eyes at him.
“Hunting is your father’s favorite hobby? What the hell, Derek! Do you—”
“No.” He shakes his head immediately, and I can see the distaste on his expression. “It’s a traditional royal sport here, yes, but really - that’s almost entirely for the older generations. Not even Nicolas touches it, and I’m pretty sure in the next few decades it will be wiped out entirely.”
I bite my lip, not willing to admit how relieved I am to hear that. Then I sag against him.
“Oh god, Derek. I’ve really screwed this up, haven’t I?”
Everything that happened at dinner washes over me again, and I shake my head, feeling terrible.
“I’ve offended everyone.” His grandmother had only confirmed that, too. “I’ve ruined your whole plan, and everything I agreed to, all because I can’t hold myself together for one stupid meal—”
“Shhh.” He shakes his head, one hand rising to my lips as he looks at me intently. “I don’t care. Screw them all. You haven’t done anything wrong, Hanna. If they’re going to be uptight, stupid jerks about what happened tonight, let them. I don’t care. All I care about right now is you.”
I blink. It’s impossible not to believe him when he’s looking at me like that, and I can’t help the surge of warmth from the sentiment. He really cares. And not just about his stupid plan, either. But about me.
I frown, confused and overwhelmed and totally out of my depth here. But a little bit pleased, anyway.
I sink back against the wall and shake my head.
“We really need to talk about all this, Derek - properly.”
His grandmother’s words are ringing in my head, and above all, the knowledge that she’s right. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it properly. I don’t want to shrug off the idea of offending his whole family with the thought that it doesn’t matter. Because it does matter - to me, anyway.
“I know.” He says. “I’ve really fucked this up.”
I glance up at him. I wasn’t expecting that. I know I’ve fucked a lot up here, but…I thought Derek would just dismiss the whole thing again. The fact that he hasn’t…that makes me feel slightly better.
“I don’t think now is the right time to talk, though.” He adds.
Of course not. I can’t think straight and we need to be getting back—
“What do you want to do now?” He asks.
“What?” I frown. “Don’t we have to go back?”
He shakes his head. “If you don’t want to, we can abandon the whole thing right now. I swear, I’m not asking you to do any more of this shit that you don’t want to.”
I feel a lump rise in my throat, and wonder how much of it is real and how much of it is crazy sentiment because champagne and train-hangover. But I shake it off anyway.
“We should go back, Derek. That’s what they’ll be expecting, right?”
“Do you feel up for it?”
I take a breath, then nod. “I think so.”
He pauses. “Okay then. If it helps, the…main course will be gone by now. And there’s nothing to worry about when it comes to dessert.”
My stomach grumbles at that, and I groan.
“I’m so fucking hungry.”
“Shit. Of course.” He frowns for a moment. “Okay, come with me.”
He takes my hand and starts leading me away, not saying anything as I shoot him a questioning glance. We head back towards the receiving hall, but when we get to it, he diverts around it until we’re in a small corridor with people walking quickly back and forwards, calling to each other.
The moment they notice Prince Derek, one comes over to us, and Derek talks to him quickly in Aldoran.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you something real to eat. It won’t be exciting, I’m afraid - if we’re going back in, we really shouldn’t take too much longer over it. But I promise, after we’re done with today, I’ll have the cooks prepare you something amazing for the rest of your stay.”
I give him a small smile, feeling like he’s going a little over-the-top here, but appreciating the gesture anyway. A moment later someone comes back - not the same man, I think - with a plate filled with bread and butter and cheese, and I almost sway with sudden hunger.
Oh my god, yes.
I take it and start eating almost immediately, pretty sure I’m stuffing my face, but not even caring what Derek sees.
“You were stunning tonight, you know.” He murmurs to me, despite the fact I’m totally distracted by the food.
As he comes closer, I can’t help but look up at him anyway, though.
&
nbsp; “I couldn’t stop looking at you.”
I bite my lip, and give him a half-smile, thinking of all the things he probably saw me do.
“It’s a pity everyone else kept looking at me, too, huh?”
“Damn straight, it is.” He practically growls it, totally surprising me. “You’re my Princesca.”
I blink, not entirely sure what that means, but liking the way the possessive heat wraps itself around me. It makes me feel better, somehow. Even if I’m totally not up for the response he wants right now.
I lean into him and quickly finish the remainder of the plate.
“You sure you’re up for this?” He asks again, and I nod.
I got this far through it, I’ll be damned if I don’t make it to the end - whatever anyone else thinks.
So we go back in. The pig is gone. I can breathe again.
And with something solid in me, I don’t even feel nearly as light-headed as I did before.
We take our separate places, and I try not to notice the way everyone stares. I’m pretty sure Princesca-attenciano’s don’t walk out during this dinner.
But dessert arrives, and I make more stilted, awkward conversation.
The rest of the meal might be strained, but somehow, I manage to get through it.
Chapter Nine
Hanna
When I wake up the next morning, gradually and in my own time, it feels incredible that my head doesn’t hurt anymore.
Like something that had just become a painful part of my life has suddenly disappeared, and a weight dragging me down has been lifted.
As I glance at the time - 10am, not bad Hanna - I wonder whether the craziness of the last few days might help with avoiding the jet-lag too.
The sense of blissful clarity and rest lasts about as long as it takes for memories from last night to flash through my mind.
Drinking too much champagne, enthusing over everything I talked about to totally blank expressions, my awkward attempt at apologizing to Derek’s father…and of course, sending my engagement ring flying off my finger, spilling water all over Nicolas’s food, and running out of the room because I couldn’t stand seeing…
Okay, even sober the day after, that image still turns my stomach.
