by Noelle Adams
I knew how ridiculous a plan this was, but it felt like divine inspiration. I needed to get interested in other men, open myself up to new possibilities, and this might kill two birds with one stone. I was smiling now as Alex continued to shake his head.
“Just a little advice,” I said, stepping forward so I was closer to Alex. “How hard would it be for you to give me a little advice?”
He groaned. “You’re serious about this?”
“Yes. I’m lacking this entire set of skills and knowledge. Why shouldn’t my best friend help me learn?”
“It might become a little strange.”
“I don’t think so. But if it does, then we’ll stop. Please?”
He groaned again and rolled his eyes, but I could see that he would relent.
I was irrationally excited, and I tried to tell myself it was about Stefan.
It wasn’t though.
“Fine,” Alex said at last.
I gave an excited exclamation and reached to hug him briefly.
He pulled away with another eye-roll. “Just some advice,” he said. “That’s all I’m volunteering for.”
“That’s all I need. Now what should I do first?”
His expression twisted slightly. He wasn’t as reserved as I was, but he was usually calm and sensible—very rarely expressing strong emotion or raising his voice. I liked that about him too. He always seemed to know exactly what to do in any given situation. “When are you going to see him again?”
“Tomorrow evening. Mother is planning an impromptu ‘ball’ for them. I guess I need to figure out what to wear.”
“We can go shopping tomorrow to find something for you to wear if you want. That can be the first step.”
“Yes, that sounds good. I’m excited!”
He just gave me a slight shake of his head.
I frowned. “Sometimes your sensibleness is very annoying. Has anyone told you that before?”
He chuckled, the amusement warming his face. “You’ve told me quite often—ever since we were kids.”
I had told him a lot. I smiled at him fondly.
We made plans for shopping the following day, and by the end of the conversation, I was feeling slightly giddy.
Partly because it felt like we were involved in a clever, exciting plot—one no one would believe.
But also because it would mean I’d be really close to Alex for a while. And the truth was I’d far prefer to attract Alex than attract Stefan.
I firmly pushed that idea back into a dark little corner of my mind until it wasn’t in my consciousness anymore.
I’d had the biggest crush on Alex when I was sixteen. I’d been absolutely crazy in love with him. That year, I’d started to hope that he returned my feelings. We never had any truly romantic moments, but I let myself hope that our closeness was turning into something else.
Then one evening I got very brave and reached out to hold his hand.
The pain of the moment that followed was something I’d never forget.
He’d given my hand a friendly squeeze but then pulled his away. He’d told me I would always be a good friend. He’d smiled at me with sympathy.
I’d been utterly mortified. It had taken weeks for me to get over it.
Maybe I still wasn’t fully over it.
I’d learned back then to never think of Alex as anything but a friend, no matter how well we got along, no matter how attractive I found him.
Some things were off-limits, and he was one of them.
It was fine. He was my friend, and I always wanted him in my life.
But I wasn’t going to be stupid again.
Even if he was going to help me be attractive to men for the next few weeks, I’d never let myself get confused about the purpose of it.
I was a smart person. I would know the end goal could never be him.
***
A few hours later, I was on my knees in the library, digging through a stack of books that had collected since I’d organized the library last year.
The royal library boasted many rare and valuable volumes, which were displayed attractively on mahogany shelves. The books that were actually used were normally much less valuable, and they tended to be piled up in stacks to be sorted through later.
Later only occasionally came.
I loved the library and all these books—even the valueless volumes—and I knew them better than anyone except the official archivist for Villemont.
“What are you doing?” a voice came from behind me.
The familiar voice surprised me so much I jerked and bumped my head on the shelf above me.
“Ouch!” I straightened up and turned around, rubbing my head.
“Sorry,” Alex said with a suppressed smile twitching on the corners of his mouth.
I scowled. “A little warning would be appreciated.”
“I’ll have to remember to wear my cowbell next time.”
I couldn’t help but giggle at the dryly amused expression on his mostly composed face. “You just surprised me.”
“I know. Sorry you bumped your head. What were you doing?”
“My father needs to see the nineteenth-century annals. They were taken out and not put back in the right place, so I was looking for them.” When I saw a faint question in his eyes, I added, “No one else can find anything in here. I volunteered to look.”
“You should have asked me to help.” He lowered himself to his knees beside me and leaned forward to peer at the stacks of books. “What does it look like?”
“It’s leather bound. Not very big. Old and falling apart.”
“That describes all these books.”
“I know.”
We searched for a few minutes, Alex helping to move the heavier stacks so I could see behind them, and eventually we found the volume we were looking for. I smiled as I stroked the familiar cover, as pleased as if I’d unexpectedly encountered an old friend.
Alex was watching my face with an unusual softness in his eyes. “You love these old books.”
“Yes. I do. I might be the only one.”
He didn’t say anything, but I felt my cheeks warming slightly at the expression in his eyes.
I didn’t quite understand—over something so trivial as my loving these old books—but I liked it.
I met his eyes and felt an undeniable pull of both affection and attraction, and it worried me so much, rising so strongly, that I made myself look away. I cleared my throat. Searching for something neutral to break the mood, I heard myself saying, “Remember when we made a fort out of these books when we were kids?”
Alex chuckled, his expression changing slightly but just as soft as before. “It took us hours to build. It was a very impressive fort.”
“I know. And we’d just finished and were setting up camp inside when my mother showed up and lectured us about improper behavior.”
His expression shifted slightly, although he was still smiling. “I suppose it was improper for a princess to be playing with someone like me in that way.”
I gave him a light punch on the arm. “What do you mean, someone like me?”
I knew what he meant—that he was the son of a member of staff—but I didn’t like how it sounded, so I made light of it.
“Besides,” I added, “she was mostly upset because I’d missed tea with the girls and my skirt was hiked up to my thighs.” I sighed, realizing that one memory from childhood—playing with Alex on the floor among the books instead of having tea like I was supposed to—was a perfect embodiment of my personality. “I never was a very good princess.”
“Don’t,” Alex said softly, reaching over to cup my face briefly and raise my head to meet his eyes. “You’ve always been amazing. And why shouldn’t princesses be different?”
My throat tightened at the unexpected urgency in his eyes and his tone. I stared up at him, wishing he would always touch me, look at me, this way.
He pulled his hand away abruptly and glanced over at the door.
“Your mother was looking for you. She wants her dresser to work with you this evening.”
I groaned—partly at this news and partly because the feeling we’d shared before was completely gone. “She wants to try to make me beautiful so Stefan will fall for me.”
I’d forgotten about Stefan’s existence until this moment, and it looked like Alex had too. His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “She’s already set on this match between you two then?”
“Are you serious? She was set on it from the moment she laid eyes on him.” I sighed and stood up, picking up the volume of annals as I did.
“I thought you were excited about him too.” His eyebrows arched, and his eyes widened.
I remembered that I was interested in Stefan. Of course I was. There wasn’t any sense in being interested in Alex, after all. “Yes. Why do you think I need your help?”
His expression shifted just slightly, and he said in a careful tone that didn’t sound quite natural. “I see. Then my help you shall have.”
***
At almost ten that evening, I left the palace and walked the two blocks to Alex’s apartment.
The downtown streets were well lit and busy at this time in the evening, and there was no danger walking by myself at night. Especially since I was always followed at a discreet distance by one of the palace guards. My mother would prefer for me to stay safe and snug in the palace, but I was an adult now and I could leave whenever I wanted.
The only place I ever went in the evenings was Alex’s apartment, but that was beside the point.
For the past few years, ever since he had moved out of his father’s house, Alex had been living in one of the historic stone buildings downtown. It was a tiny place—a one-room studio—because prices were so high in the city. But it had been important to him to have his own place, and I could completely understand.
Plus it would be strange for me to come visit him at night if he was still living with his father.
He opened the door to my knock and stepped aside to let me in.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing. Why would something be wrong?”
“You never come over out of the blue unless something is wrong.”
I frowned at him although I realized he was probably right. I came over to his place a couple of times a week, but I usually told him before I showed up.
I hadn’t today because I hadn’t been planning to come until I was walking out the door.
His place was so small there was no room for much of anything except a bed, a small desk, and a couple of stools at the counter. Since the only comfortable place to sit was the bed, I walked over and sat on the covers, pulling off my boots before I folded my legs under me and leaned against the headboard.
Alex had obviously been sitting on the bed too since his laptop was open and resting on the covers.
He came over to sit next to me. “What is it?” he asked.
“I just want to make sure you’re really fine about helping me out with Stefan.”
He’d been searching my face, but now he frowned. “I told you I was.”
“I know. But you didn’t seem very excited about it, and I don’t want to pressure you into it if it will make you uncomfortable or something.”
“Why would it make me uncomfortable?” His expression was different now. Almost guarded.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seemed… reluctant.”
He sighed, his body and his expression relaxing. “It’s fine, Lisette. I said I would help you, and I meant it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I want you to be happy. If this is what it takes, then this is what I do.”
My chest tightened and softened at the same time—if such a thing was possible. He meant it. He might be practical and matter-of-fact most of the time, but he cared about me a lot.
The knowledge made me feel safe and secure and really, really good.
I smiled at him, pleased when he smiled back.
“What are you working on?” I asked, now that my worries about taking advantage of Alex had been assuaged. “Work for your classes?”
He shook his head. “I’m actually writing a cover letter for a job application.”
“Really? What job?” I’d straightened up and was trying to peer over to the screen of his laptop.
“It’s with a marketing and advertising firm—a really good, established one. I just saw the job ad today, and they’re looking for someone with exactly my education and qualifications. It’s actually my dream job.”
“Really? That’s great! Here in Villemont?”
“No. It’s in Aix-en-Provence. It’s an excellent firm. They’ve had a lot of genuinely successful campaigns.”
My excitement diminished slightly at this piece of news, but I managed not to let it show on my face. I kept smiling and leaned over so I could inspect his cover letter and hear more about the job.
I wanted Alex to be happy too.
I wanted him to be even happier than I was.
I wanted him to get this job if it was the job he’d been dreaming of.
But I couldn’t help but wonder what I would do when he left.
I would miss him so much.
Two
The next morning, I woke up excited.
Very excited. Practically giddy.
I would see Stefan again that evening—but that filled me more with fear than with happiness. What I was most excited about was having made a plan with Alex. Today we were going into Geneva to shop and to begin my lessons on how to attract a man.
That was what made me giddy.
As I showered and dressed, I told myself repeatedly that it was only having a plan to make things change that was exciting to me. Alex was the vehicle. He wasn’t the cause.
I felt better about my situation once I’d assured myself of this fact.
I’d woken up early, so the only person in the breakfast room before me was my mother. She was sipping tea and reading a newspaper, as she always was at this time of day.
“Good morning, dear,” she murmured, glancing up at me. When her eyes lingered on my hair, which I’d pulled back in a thick braid, I knew what was coming. “Be sure to smooth down your hair before you go out this morning. You have flyaways.”
I patted down my hair although I knew the effort was futile. My hair is thick and curly and refuses to stay smooth unless it’s coated down with hair products, in which case it feels like plastic. “I’ll try.”
“Thank you, dear.” Then, as if she realized she hadn’t been appropriately supportive of my delicate psyche, she added, “You look very pretty otherwise.”
I managed not to roll my eyes. “Thank you.”
My mother was who she was. She’d never be anyone different. She loved me—I knew that was true—but she also would never stop picking apart my appearance and behavior, forever wishing I was just a little bit different.
I was used to it by now.
“So you and Stefan appeared to get along well last night,” she said, putting aside her newspaper in a gesture that made it clear she was ready for a conversation.
“I suppose so.”
“What does that mean? Did you not like him?”
“He seemed nice,” I said carefully. “But I don’t know that he was particularly entranced by me.”
She looked pleased and surprised, and I realized it was because I’d never been so receptive to a possible match before. “Give it some time. I’m sure he’ll warm up to the idea. I’ve spoken to his parents, and they…” She trailed off when someone else entered the room.
It was Alex, looking clean and masculine in a pair of khakis and button-down shirt. He’d been eating breakfast with the family for years since he always arrived early to the palace to work.
Seeing the new arrival was just Alex, my mother continued, “His parents appeared amenable to the idea of a match between you.”
This would have been an embarrassing conversati
on to be witnessed, but Alex already knew all about it. He was filling his plate from the trays on the sidebar, and he didn’t even seem to be listening.
I said, “I don’t want to get stuck in a marriage that was arranged by our parents. I want my future husband to actually want to marry me.”
“Of course he will, dear,” my mother said with another surprised smile. She was evidently coming to the conclusion that I wasn’t just being polite. I was actually interested in Stefan. “It doesn’t hurt for him to have a little nudge in the right direction, does it? Just look at Edward and Victoria. I arranged that one very nicely, didn’t I?”
“Edward was crazy about Victoria before they got engaged. That was why it worked out.” I gave a slightly rueful smile to Alex as he sat down beside me with his plate.
“You’re a princess, Lisette. You know that. You’ll marry someone who is in the best interests of your family and country. Victoria and Edward are very much in love, of course, but that was a different situation. You can’t expect the perfect man to be crazy about you.”
I knew—I knew—that my mother didn’t intend the comment to be insulting, but it was hard not to take it that way.
Naturally, Victoria was different. She was beautiful and charming and everything I was not.
Any man would have been ecstatic to be married to her.
I clearly needed to work a lot harder to earn even the slightest interest from an eligible man.
“Any man will be crazy about you,” Alex put in, speaking with his typical sensible composure. “Just give him time to get to know you. You’re not going to have to work too hard to get this guy excited.”
It was like he’d read my mind.
I stared at him, filled with a warmth of affection and appreciation.
He hadn’t sounded gentle or careful, like he was only trying to make me feel better. His matter-of-factness made it seem like he was probably telling the truth.
My mother blinked, but I couldn’t tell what surprised her—Alex’s support of me or his implicit contradiction of her. “Of course, dear,” she said, reaching over to pat my hand, which was resting on the table near my coffee cup. “I’m sure he’ll fall in line without any trouble at all.”
Fall in line.
