Prince of my Panties (Royal Package)

by Lili Valente

  “Oh, no.” Kaula’s lips turn down. “That isn’t right. He’s still here. He must be. It’s all going to be okay. I should have stayed until I was sure you understood.”

  “You should have just talked to me, instead of stealing me away and scaring me half to death.”

  “The people looking after you would never have allowed it,” Tammy says in a tone that begs for understanding. “Some strange Roma woman walks up to the little princess in the park and wants to talk, and those people just let it happen? No chance. They would have had her arrested.” Her mouth tightens. “Or worse, knowing your family.”

  “My family did terrible things a long time ago, but my parents aren’t violent people. They…” I sigh, my thoughts racing as I try to imagine what my parents or my nanny at the time would have done in a situation like that. But no matter how much I want to think the best of them, I keep coming to some not-so-nice conclusions. Finally, I admit, “Maybe you’re right. But if you hadn’t taken me, I might never have known about the curse at all. My father never mentioned it, not until I brought it up myself when I was older. He doesn’t think it’s real. His older sister is fine.”

  “When the firstborn doesn’t have royal blood, it skips that generation,” Manfri says, making me think he knows more about this than he’s let on. I narrow my gaze, and he lifts his hands, his fingers spread wide. “Or so I’ve heard. That’s the story. I don’t personally know anything about your aunt, I swear.”

  Kaula makes a soft, pained sound, and her eyes begin to shine. “No. I was trying to help. I wanted you to know you were free, that all would be well. It was the clearest vision I’d ever had, a gift I had to share.”

  She looks so sincerely troubled that I can’t help reaching over to cover her wrinkled hand with mine. “It’s okay. I believe you.”

  Or at least I believe that’s what she believes.

  The truth probably lies somewhere between her memory and mine, both influenced by our experiences before and after our lives crossed paths. But at the end of the day, none of that matters.

  It doesn’t even matter if the curse is real or not.

  Either way, it sounds like I’m safe to imagine a much longer future than I ever have before.

  “The most important thing is that everything is going to be okay,” I say, hope blooming in my chest as I pull my hand from hers. “The curse ends with me, right?”

  “It ends with you and the boy, when you heal the bad blood,” she says, a worried V forming between her eyes. “The boy must still be here.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so. He said he and his wife were on a short trip while his mother watched their baby.”

  “Oh, no.” Kaula’s face pales. “He has to be here.” She turns to Tammy. “What if I was wrong? What if I had another vision, something different, later, and I can’t remember?”

  “You said that, about not remembering.” I figure it might give her some comfort, learning that she got that part right, too. “You said you might not know me when we met again.”

  “Her mother had the same condition,” Tammy says. “The sight and the forgetfulness.” She puts an arm around Kaula’s shoulders. “They come together sometimes.”

  “This is not…” Kaula shakes her head. “Not right.”

  “But I can get in touch with Rafe again,” I assure her, though I still can’t imagine what my ex-boyfriend has to do with any of this. “I know where his mother lives now, and I’m sure my mother has her phone number. Actually, I think I have it in an old email, I can—”

  “No, it happens in the woods,” Kaula maintains, her pitch rising. “Or near the woods…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s you and the boy, a reckoning, a transformation. And if it doesn’t happen…” She presses a fist to her forehead. “I can’t see it. I can’t see anymore. Why? I’m still looking in the same place!”

  “Hush, love, it’s all right,” Tammy says, rubbing her back, but Kaula flinches away from her touch.

  “I still know!” she shouts. “Don’t treat me like… I know… I still—” She breaks off with a low moan, and her hands claw into the hair on either side of her face. “I can make it come back. I can.”

  “It’s time for you to go,” Manfri says, rising from the couch and motioning to the exit. “She needs to rest. Let Tammy calm her down.”

  “Please,” I say, “just let me—”

  “Go. Now.” Manfri points a stern finger at the tent flap. “You promised.”

  Swallowing the protest rising in my throat, I glance back at Kaula, who is still rocking and moaning and clearly in no shape to explain anything to anyone, and sigh. “All right.” I rise and Jeffrey takes my hand, leading the way out of the wagon and into a much darker night.

  It feels like we were only talking for a few minutes, but it must have been longer. But then, time has a way of warping when Kaula Young is around.

  “I should have asked her about the time,” I say in a scratchy voice. “About why my sisters didn’t realize I was gone.”

  “It’s okay,” Jeffrey whispers. “Maybe we can try again tomorrow.”

  But I already know that’s not going to happen. I can see it in Manfri’s no-longer-friendly expression as he exits behind us and nods toward our tent. “I think you should go.”

  “Please,” I beg. “Can we try one more time? Maybe, after she’s slept.”

  “No,” Manfri says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry you’ve had trouble. And I’m sorry Mami’s message didn’t come through to you the way she intended, but it sounds like you’re good, and she can’t risk another stroke.”

  “She’s had a stroke, too?” I instantly feel terrible. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. But she doesn’t, either. She was trying to do right by you. It’s not her fault that your people are raised to be afraid of us, to see us as monsters and thieves.”

  “I wasn’t raised to—” I break off, realizing that I’m looking for an entry point in a fortress that’s been locked and barred against me.

  And also, there might be a kernel of truth in what he’s saying. Half the folk tales I heard as a child involved wicked gypsies causing trouble for innocent villagers. Maybe that colored my reaction to Kaula more than I realized at the time.

  I’d still like to think there was a better way to deliver her warning than kidnapping, but I could be wrong about that, too. The only thing that’s clear right now is that we’ve reached the end of the road with Manfri.

  I nod, lips pressing together as I take a step back. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate it.”

  “We both do,” Jeffrey says, squeezing my fingers.

  We turn to go and have nearly reached the edge of the flickering ring of light surrounding the fire pit when a siren cuts through the air. Not long after, a small SUV with an orange strobe spinning on its roof appears at the top of the rise, headed this way.

  All around us, the Roma people go still, with a spark of anxiety I can taste, sharp on my tongue. Then, mothers start quietly herding children into tents, while the men in the camp shift to face the coming threat. For centuries, Roma camps have been the first stop for law enforcement when anything goes wrong nearby, no matter if there’s cause to suspect a Romani man or women for the crime, or not.

  And sometimes it is a Roma person involved. But when society has shoved you to the fringes for thousands of years, exterminated your people, forcibly sterilized your women, denied you access to health care and social programs, and segregated your families into slums and your children into sub-standard schools, all while refusing to consider your people for well-paying jobs, or in some cases, any sort of employment, I can see how theft might seem like the only option.

  If the majority refuses to treat your life with the same dignity as theirs, if they insist on seeing you as filthy, violent criminals no matter what you do, you might as well make sure you have something to show for it, right?

  I can see it so clearly now th
at I’ve stopped to think, but why have I never before imagined what their lives must be like?

  It must have been terrifying for Kaula to take me back to my family, risking me telling the authorities what she’d done, no matter how many times I’d promised I wouldn’t tell the police.

  In the end, I hadn’t told because I was afraid it would bring her back like a boogeyman summoned from under the bed when you say his name. But I should have kept my mouth shut for her, this woman who had so much to lose by trying to reassure a cursed child.

  Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly then, and she’s obviously not in her right mind now, but I believe her heart was in the right place.

  And I believe that Rafe and I can still make things right. I’ll find him. Call him. Convince him to talk to me.

  And then…

  Well, hopefully the destiny river will take care of the rest. Hopefully, this is the kind of thing I can’t screw up.

  “We should stay, see what’s going on,” Jeffrey murmurs.

  I step closer to his side, wrapping my arms around him and resting my cheek on his chest, a new worry niggling at the back of my thoughts.

  What if this police vehicle has something to do with Nick and the bad people he’s supposedly caught up with? I don’t believe Jeffrey’s involved for a second, but the authorities might not be so easily persuaded.

  I hold my breath, crossing my fingers that this has nothing to do with either of us and that I won’t need to figure out how to hire a lawyer in the middle of nowhere with no cell service.

  Thankfully, I don’t have long to wait for answers.

  The SUV skids to a stop in the parking area beside the collection of Roma pickup trucks and older minivans, and a slim figure spills out the passenger’s side. A beat later, a young woman in a ranger uniform, her hair in braids, runs into the camp, her presence instantly breaking the tension.

  One of the men moves forward to greet her, but she shakes her head and lifts her hands, calling out, “Sorry to interrupt, everyone, but there’s been an accident. A tree fell on a couple on their way out of the park earlier tonight. The husband was seriously hurt. They’re at the urgent care in Devi, but the doctors don’t have the right kind of blood for a transfusion, and he’s running out of time.” She takes a breath, scanning the crowd.

  I’m already moving out of Jeffrey’s arms, somehow knowing what she’s going to say.

  “If there’s anyone here with a B negative blood type who would be willing to come with me and make a donation, you just might save a life.”

  “I have to go,” I murmur to Jeffrey before lifting my arm and calling, “I am. I’ll come right now.”

  “I’ll follow in the car,” Jeffrey says, squeezing my shoulder. “I’ll be there waiting when you’re done.”

  With a rush of gratitude, I push up on tiptoe, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and whispering, “I love you,” against his stubble.

  Because I don’t want to wait anymore, and I don’t want to risk him not knowing.

  A tree can fall at any time, smashing carefully laid plans to pieces. None of us knows how long we have left, and whether I beat this curse or not, I want Jeffrey to know that he is loved.

  By me. For now and always.

  The light shining in his eyes as I pull away is all the confirmation I need that I made the right call. “I love you, too. And I’ll see you soon.” He squeezes my hand, and then he’s gone, running across the grass to our campsite and the shadow of the Jaguar.

  I jog in the other direction, following the ranger to the SUV and climbing into the back as she says, “Thank you so much. You’re doing a wonderful thing.” The man in the driver’s seat murmurs his agreement as he backs up and heads for the park exit.

  As he drives, the woman turns in her seat and meets my gaze in the light from the dashboard. “I met this man and his wife when they checked in a few days ago. They seemed like such sweet people, and they have a new baby.” She sighs, pressing a hand to her heart. “I can’t stand to think about it. He has to be okay. That baby has to know her father.”

  A new baby. A sweet couple.

  I suppose there’s still a chance the man I’m rushing to help save is a stranger, but I know better. The marrow of my bones hums with the feeling that the future is a boulder rolling downhill.

  Or I’m the boulder, and there’s no escape from gravity.

  Yes, I’m the boulder.

  When I follow the ranger into the two-story clinic in the small town of Devi, the staff rush through the necessary paperwork and hustle me to an exam room.

  Seconds later, a nurse in faded blue scrubs hurries in, tripping over her tennis shoes as she sees my face. “Oh my God. You’re one of them, one of the—”

  “I am. And I’m ready to donate.” I hold out my arm.

  “Are you sure you meet the criteria?” The nurse frowns. “They told you about the weight requirement, right? You have to weigh at least—”

  “Take my blood. Now,” I say, bouldering over her.

  “But, I—”

  “Now.” I narrow my eyes on hers, daring her to make me get out of this chair and fetch another nurse to get the job done. “A man is dying, and I’m his only chance. No other donor is going to get here in time.”

  The nurse’s expression wavers, but after only a beat, she gives in, setting her metal tray of supplies on the table beside me. “Okay, but if you feel faint, let me know right away.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I am not fine.

  I hate blood. Always have, always will.

  The second the needle goes in and the red stuff starts to rush out—I have good veins, apparently—the room begins to spin.

  I quickly look away from my arm.

  That helps a little, but I’m still too hot, too cold, hot and cold at the same time, my skin breaking out in a light sweat up and down my spine. Less than a minute in, I realize I’m probably going to pass out, but I also know I have to hold on long enough to turn the tide for this man.

  For Rafe.

  I know it’s him. Rafe, my childhood friend, my first love, that dear soul who will always live in my heart no matter how many years have passed or how much he hates me. I will always care for him and wish him the best. I would never have known what to do with all the things I feel for Jeffrey if I hadn’t practiced loving with Rafe.

  He taught me so much, gave me so much.

  And now I’m going to give him this. I refuse to lose consciousness until at least one of those bags is full.

  I ball my free hand into a fist and curl my tongue behind my teeth, pressing it into the roof of my mouth as the room tilts back and forth, the horizon line no longer a dependable thing.

  “You’re doing great,” the nurse murmurs.

  I see her tap the bag of blood in my peripheral vision, and the tilting of the world becomes a spin. My lips go numb and my stomach pitches, but right when I’m positive I’m going to toss my dinner, pass out, or both, I hear Jeffrey in the lobby, and the fist tightening around my ribs loosens.

  “I’m looking for my girlfriend. She was rushed here to donate blood.”

  Aw, his girlfriend. That’s me!

  I take a deeper breath, and the tingling in my lips fades enough for me to call out, “I’m in here!”

  Someone outside warns, “You can’t go back there, sir,” but Jeffrey’s footsteps are already thudding down the hall. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, his features tightening with concern as he studies my face.

  “You look terrible,” he says flatly.

  I smile. “Good thing you don’t love me for my looks.”

  “Not only for your looks, no,” he says, with his signature dry wit, but he’s clearly not about to be put off by something as easy as a joke. He shifts his attention to the nurse seated in front of me. “She was severely ill with pneumonia less than a week ago. I was thinking on the way over—she might be too weak for this to be safe.”

  The nurse tenses and frowns at me.
“You didn’t tell me that.”

  “You didn’t ask,” I say, anxiety prickling at the back of my neck.

  “Were you on antibiotics?” she asks.

  “Yes, but—” She reaches for a cotton ball and presses it to the needle in my arm. I hold up a hand in front of her face. “Wait! I’m fine. We’re almost done.”

  “We’re done right now,” she says, her eyes tense above her facemask. “You can’t donate blood if you’ve been on antibiotics in the past seven days. There’s a chance you could spread the infection, and we don’t—”

  “Better infected than dead.” I grab her wrist, causing the needle to jerk under my skin, sending another hot shiver of nausea roiling in my gut. “I’m his only chance. Please. I feel fine now. I’m not running a fever.” She hesitates, and I press, “Please. He’s my friend. We grew up together.” I nod toward Jeffrey. “And he wasn’t even supposed to be in here. Ignore him, pretend he never said a word. I won’t tell.”

  The nurse’s eyes slide Jeffrey’s way. “I could lose my license.”

  “A man could lose his life,” Jeffrey says. “She’s right. It’s worth the risk.” He starts to move away but then sticks his head back through the door to add, “Unless she’s hurt. Her safety comes first, or heads will roll. Understood?”

  “Understood,” the nurse says, her opinion of the General audible in her tone.

  Jeffrey fixes me with a no-nonsense glare. “I’ll be in the lobby when you’re done. Be a hero, not a fool, Elizabeth.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, too dizzy to fight with him. Besides, I know the General only comes out when he’s worried or scared. He’s cranky because he loves me, and that’s a lovely reason to be a grouch.

  After he’s gone, the nurse mutters beneath her breath, “No offense, but who does he think he is? The King of France?”

  I giggle. “No, he’s second in line. And not in France.”

  The woman’s brows shoot up. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” I say, my tongue thick and sticky in my mouth. “I think I’m…done. Everything’s spinning.”

  “Okay, hang in there, and let me get you patched up.” She quickly and efficiently removes the needle, covering the wound with a cotton ball and sticking a bandage on top before she stands. “Stay here and take a few deep breaths. I’m going to run these up to the second floor, then I’ll get you some juice.” She squeezes my arm. “You did a good job.”