by Kaye Blue
Once I finished with the pat down and was finally allowed access to the presidential suite my father was occupying, I wasted no time finding him near the suite’s bar.
I looked at my father, who smiled. “I get to see you twice in one day. A truly miraculous occurrence,” he said.
He had been sitting on the couch, regal in his bearing even at this late hour and after who knew how many drinks.
“You know this isn’t a social call, Father,” I said.
“What is it then?” he countered.
“No more,” I said, my voice low.
“No more what? No more visits?”
I didn’t say anything at first, trying to figure out whether he was being coy with a purpose, or if he just enjoyed watching me squirm. With my father, I could never tell.
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do with Marta. It’s not going to work. So stop wasting your time and mine,” I said.
“Fine, you don’t like Marta, though I can’t understand why. She’d be a perfectly suitable bride.”
I shook my head. We’d had this conversation more times than I could remember, and I wasn’t up for having it now.
“Father, I won’t deal with your meddling,” I said.
“I’m not meddling. I’m seeing that my sons and heirs do their duty. It’s a small thing to settle down with someone appropriate,” he said.
Three things about that statement struck me. The first was that my father had done more to undermine our family than any of his sons could ever dream. He didn’t see it that way, of course, but then I’d never accuse my father of being self-aware.
Second was how casually he took fidelity. His affairs were an open secret, but his lack of shame about them and that he would try to encourage the same in me was pretty appalling, though I didn’t know why I was surprised.
The last was far more important. My father was right. It was time for me to settle down. The person I chose for that was one he would never approve of, not that it mattered. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that and make sure he understood that I’d found the woman I loved and was going to spend the rest of my life with. But I didn’t say anything.
Dallas should know my feelings before anyone else, and I wouldn’t use them in a game of brinksmanship with my father.
“For the last time, Father, stay out of it.”
“Are you giving me an order?” he asked.
“Think of it however you want,” I responded without pause.
He stood then, bringing himself to his full, formidable height. As a child, my father had both awed and scared me, and I felt a tinge of regret that I no longer felt either.
“You forget yourself, Kristian. I am your father and your king,” he thundered.
I knew what he wanted and expected. That I would cower before him and apologize for my disrespect.
I wouldn’t.
Despite his flaws, I still loved my father and in some ways respected him, too. But I wouldn’t allow him to interfere in my life.
“No more, Father,” I said.
With that, I left, praying that my father hadn’t screwed things up with Dallas.
Eighteen
Dallas
The next morning I woke up missing Kristian but was glad I had declined his invitation.
My emotions were too raw, far too close to the surface, and I didn’t want to risk saying something I shouldn’t. I would have held strong but didn’t doubt that Kristian would be able to look at me and see how inadequate I felt, maybe finally realize that I could never compare to someone like her.
When I’d seen him and Marta walk in the night before, my heart had dropped as my temper rose. I was always happy to help him, would walk across hot coals if he needed me to, but the idea of him taking my efforts, and using them to spend time with her made me feel nauseous. And though I would never admit it out loud, seeing them together, so perfect, looking like everything a prince and princess should be, brought all of my insecurities rushing back to the forefront.
That feeling had abated when he had sent her away, though I didn’t agree with the way he had done so. And when we had made love, everything had felt as it should.
But today, I was torn, and even more confused than I had been the night before.
Neither of us had said anything, but it was clear that whatever the original boundaries of this arrangement were, they were no longer in play.
Something was happening—had happened—and I didn’t know how long I could pretend that it hadn’t.
But I also didn’t know what the alternative was.
In my deepest fantasies, my heart of hearts, I wanted him to confess his undying love, tell me we would be together always. Ride off into the sunset with my fairy-tale prince.
Even thinking it made my heart tremble. But a rare bout of pragmatism reared its ugly head and told me to get real.
That it couldn’t happen.
“But maybe it could,” I whispered to the empty room.
Maybe it could.
I knew I wasn’t suitable, knew someone like Marta should be on Kristian’s arm. But knowing that didn’t change the fact that I loved him, and prayed that he loved me too.
“So what are you gonna do about it, Dallas?” I said out loud.
What could I do about it?
No answer was forthcoming, but one thing I knew was that things couldn’t stay the way they were now. I wasn’t going to love Kristian any less, the opposite in fact.
But if things were going to end, better sooner so that I might have some hope of getting over them, though that hope seemed dim.
“I just don’t know,” I whispered.
I sank back into the pillows and then shook my head. “Am I really lying here talking to myself?” I asked.
I laughed and after a moment pushed myself out of bed.
I didn’t know what was going to happen with Kristian, and it appeared that the answer wasn’t going to come soon.
“So get to work and stop talking to yourself,” I said.
I stood up, then giggled at my own silly behavior.
I showered and quickly dressed and then made my way to the studio.
I might not know what was going on with Kristian, but I had a show to prepare for.
It was going to be my biggest yet, and hopefully my best.
After, I would talk to him and figure out where things stood. But for now, I would enjoy the time we had.
Nineteen
Kristian
“Why are you nervous?” I asked.
It was the morning of Dallas’s show, and for the past twelve hours, she had been a tightly wound ball of nerves.
I sat the plate of freshly prepared blueberry pecan waffles in front of her.
“I told you I wasn’t hungry,” she said.
“Eat anyway,” I responded. Then I went back to the stove to grab the eggs with Gruyère cheese that she loved so much.
“Yes, Mom,” she said sarcastically.
I laughed, feeling relieved. That was the first hint of the old Dallas I had seen all day, and I was glad for it.
After I made my own plate, I sat across from her.
“I’m serious, Dallas. The show is going to be great,” I said.
“Or it’s going to be a nightmarish horror show where people laugh at the chick with the nerve to try to sell pencil drawings,” she countered glumly.
I shook my head.
“Bullshit, Dallas. You don’t think that. You know that your stupid, as you call them, pencil drawings are fantastic and people are going to snap them up like they are the new hotness, which they are,” I said.
“The new hotness? Really?” she said, an eyebrow arched.
She laughed and I joined in. “Whatever. They’re good, people are going to like them,” I said.
Dallas took a bite of her waffle and she nodded, looking thoughtful.
“I hope so. And I know the dramatics aren’t really necessary. But this show is risky, and it feels weird to pu
t myself out there like that, you know?” she said.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I responded.
She looked at me, her expression serious.
“I hope you’re right,” she said.
I got the sense that she wasn’t exactly talking about the show anymore, but I didn’t pursue it. We’d have time for that conversation later.
“Eat up. Got a big day ahead,” I said.
“Thanks, Kristian,” she responded, her voice wavering with her emotion.
“You’re welcome,” I answered sincerely.
I love you.
I left those words unsaid.
Kristian
“One last thing,” I muttered as I opened my safe later that evening.
I’d spent most of the day with Dallas, but a few hours before her show, she’d sent me away, telling me she needed some space to clear her head.
I’d left, reluctantly, but I’d also come to a decision.
This morning had been the perfect time to tell her how I felt and finally acknowledge that this thing between us had grown into something special. I hadn’t taken that opportunity, but I wouldn’t miss another.
I grabbed the small burgundy box out of my safe and opened it to look at the ring inside. Platinum molded into the shape of the vitis vine that was Medina’s national plant.
It wasn’t quite an engagement ring, but that was only because I wasn’t sure Dallas was ready for that step. I was, but I was patient enough to wait. And when I gave her this, she would know that my feelings were real if she had any doubts.
I squeezed the box tight to stop my hand from the threatened tremble and then shoved the ring in my jacket pocket.
Its weight felt substantial, but not heavy, and in a lot of ways it reminded me of my relationship with Dallas.
It was dense, layered, contained so many different facets that it was sometimes hard for me to keep up with them all. But it was never too much, and I was always left wanting more.
I wanted it all.
Her, me, forever.
I was excited to see her show, but couldn’t wait for it to be over. I was tempted to tell her before, but I wouldn’t interfere with her show like that.
We had forever. There was no reason to rush.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come on in, Dalton,” I called.
I heard the locks disengage and looked at Dalton expectantly, wondering what he needed. He seldom came up, and so it had to be important.
He stepped into my penthouse, and I immediately noticed the somber look on his usually expressionless face.
“What’s up?” I asked, instantly on alert.
“I apologize, your highness, but you have a visitor,” he said.
“Visitor? Why didn’t you call?”
“Call? Do I need to be announced?”
I hadn’t seen Marta at first, but she stepped around Dalton and into my home like she owned it.
“Get out,” I said, without really looking at her. Instead I was focused on Dalton, and noticed that his expression seemed even more somber than it had before.
“What is this, Dalton?” I asked.
“I’m simply doing as I was commanded,” he said.
Then, before I could react, he stepped backward out of the penthouse and pulled the door closed behind him.
I heard the locks reengage and felt a sinking pit in my stomach.
I reached the door quickly and tried to open it, but as I had suspected, it had been locked from the outside.
“Dalton!” I called, banging on the door.
“I apologize again, your highness,” he said into the intercom.
“What’s the meaning of this?” I asked.
“Your father ordered me to allow Ms. Rivar access to your home.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it, Dalton,” I said.
“He also ordered me not to let you leave until he gives his permission.”
“What the fuck is this?” I muttered, not yelling even though I wanted to rip the walls apart with my bare hands.
“Your father just thought you needed some time. To get to know me,” Marta said.
I’d almost forgotten she was in the room, but I whirled to face her. She had a seductive smile on her face that I could barely see through my blinding rage.
“Dalton, open the fucking door,” I said into the intercom through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He sounded sincere, but that didn’t help me. Dallas’s show was less than an hour away, and she needed my help and support, and I was determined to be there for her.
“Kristian, why don’t we catch up,” Marta said.
“Are you in on this?” I asked, not willing to put anything past her.
“My king gave me a command and I’m fulfilling it,” she responded.
I didn’t respond and instead went to the door and tried to pull it open, but it didn’t budge.
“Dalton!” I said, slamming my fist against the door.
In my peripheral vision, I saw Marta flinch, but like always she recovered, and like always, I didn’t care.
“Open the door!”
All I heard was silence. Even without it, I knew I was in trouble. Dalton definitely would not disobey a direct command no matter how much he might dislike it.
I wasn’t sure what my father had in mind, but I knew down in my bones that he wasn’t going to let me out of this room in time to make Dallas’s show. I’d just have to hope she would give me the benefit of the doubt and accept my apology, and my proposal.
“Kristian, you’re tense. Why don’t we relax?” Marta said.
Her voice was the absolute last thing I wanted to hear.
“Shut the fuck up,” I barked.
“You’ve coarsened over the years. Is that the influence of your little friend?” she asked.
I could see her disgust in her wrinkled nose, and it pushed me over the edge.
“You think you can look down your nose at her? You’re not fit to breathe the same air as her.”
“That’s a very impassioned defense for someone who’s just a friend,” Marta said.
She had that teasing tone in her voice, the one I hated so much.
“Dallas is my friend, but she’s more than that. She’s going to be my wife, my princess. Something you never will be,” I said.
I looked at Marta, waiting for her reaction, but she did something I didn’t expect.
“Lucky her,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
As I looked at Marta, it seemed that she was transforming in front of my eyes.
If she wasn’t seductive, she was being obsequious, but she was neither of those now. In fact she looked a little annoyed. It was the most human emotion I had ever seen from her, including during sex.
“You always like to say that you two are just friends, so I’m glad you’re finally wising up,” she said.
This conversation had taken a turn, but I wanted to see where it was going.
“You knew about Dallas and me?” I asked.
That couldn’t be possible, not unless my father was having me followed or getting information from my security detail, something I wouldn’t put past him.
“I didn’t know there was a you and Dallas, at least not in the details, but it was obvious. It was so ridiculous to watch you two pretend there was nothing between you. But you finally came to your senses,” she said.
“If you thought that, why are you so relentless?” I asked.
“I want to marry you, Kristian. I don’t care about your heart,” she said.
The words were callous, but the matter-of-fact way she said them made me curious.
“That’s what this has always been about?” I asked, certain I knew the answer.
Marta sighed and then went to the sofa to plop down. I’d never seen her do anything so ungracious, or so human.
“You’re an important pe
rson, and a marriage to you would be a boon to my family.”
“It’s as simple as that? I was just a meal ticket?” I asked.
“Don’t look so offended, Kristian, and don’t be so naive. I know you hold me in contempt, and in truth, you’re not my favorite person either. But you know how things are done. You had a role to play, just as I did. You broke out of your shell. I’ve never broken out of mine.”
I stared at her for a moment, wondering where this had come from, and how I had missed it. Marta might have pissed me off, but her words were true. We all had parts to play, and Marta was simply trying to play hers.
“You still can, you know? Break out of your shell,” I said.
“And what? End up on the street? Make my own way?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I responded.
She smiled, then shook her head. “Not everyone is as brave as you. So how long has this thing been going on with Dallas?” she asked.
The shifting conversation was jarring, but I found myself responding.
“Couple months.”
“And you love her?”
“With all my heart,” I said without hesitation.
“Then I wish you the best of luck. Can I watch television until your father decides to let me out of here?” she asked.
I got Marta settled in front of the entertainment center, and then began to pace. I went out on the balcony, wishing I could fly. Dallas was either worried or pissed that I was late. I knew which was worse, but I hoped she held on.
Because the minute I saw her I was going to tell her how I felt.
And pray she would give me another chance.
Twenty
Dallas
“It’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“Thank you,” I said.
I remembered to add a smile at the very last second.
The woman who had been so enthused by my pencil etchings looked at me strangely, and then walked away.
“Get it together, Dallas,” I said to myself under my breath.
I’d said the same thing more times than I could count tonight, but so far it didn’t seem to be happening.
I wanted to pretend that it wasn’t because Kristian wasn’t here, but I didn’t even have the energy for the effort.
