by Mia Carson
Olivia sat up again. “Guess I can’t just call in sick, huh?”
“I am afraid you cannot do that as a princess—unless, of course, you faint in public,” Allete said with a smirk. “That tends to get a royal out of almost anything.”
“I think I’m going to like you, Allete,” Olivia said as she laughed and got out of bed.
“I have a feeling I will like you, too, miss,” she replied. “Now then, what would you like to wear today?”
Olivia had put her clothes away yesterday in the wardrobe and cringed. “I really don’t have anything that a princess would wear. Just jeans and t-shirts—what?” She stared in open-mouthed shock at the wardrobe. “Those are not my clothes.”
The one side still held her folded jeans, a few shirts, and the three dresses she did own, but the other side, which had been empty before, was stocked full of gowns and pant suits in various shades of blues and greens and nearly every other tropical shade she could think of. They were gorgeous, and the fabric was butter to the touch. Everything was exquisite, and she wanted to try them all on. She reached for a delicate lace and satin sapphire dress that almost matched the color of the water surrounding the island.
“I’m afraid that might be a bit formal for a luncheon in the city,” Allete said with a gentle laugh. “However, you could wear it to the dinner tomorrow night.”
“Really?” Olivia held the dress up to herself and glanced at the reflection in the wardrobe mirror. “Man. This is going to take some getting used to.”
***
An hour later, Olivia emerged from her rooms looking like a dressed-up doll. She wore a knee-length turquoise skirt that ruffled at the bottom, a perfectly fitting white blouse with turquoise flowers on the back, the same color high-heeled sandals, and a full jewelry set she was terrified to wear. Every piece of it was real, and she knew how much real stones like this cost.
“Just act like you know how to wear a couple thousand dollars’ worth of clothes and jewels and you’ll be fine,” she whispered to herself as her heels clicked down the corridor. They were awkward on her, and she had to concentrate on every single step she took. She’d nearly made it to the stairs when her ankle turned and she stumbled with a curse, right into a pair of very strong arms.
“Caught you,” Quincy said as he helped Olivia right herself. “You alright? Was that wine really too much for you last night?”
She smiled as she thanked him and glanced up. The smile froze on her face. He’d looked good last night, but today, he looked like a prince. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I mean… not wow, I just… I’m not used to walking in heels,” she said quickly, hoping he didn’t notice the color rising in her cheeks. “You clean up very well, Prince Quincy.”
“As do you, Olivia.”
She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, hating that her hair had to be fixed this way, and tried to look anywhere but his face. “Yeah well, back in Nebraska, it’d be jeans, a sweatshirt, and ponytail.”
“You must tell me of your home,” he said and offered her his arm like a true gentleman. She wrapped her hand around it and they meandered down the hall together. “It must be fascinating to live there.”
Olivia laughed. “Nebraska? Not really. Fields of corn and that’s about it.”
“But you have roads that connect you to other states? You’re not on an island that you can’t get off of.”
“There is that, but most of what’s around me are fields and fields of corn and wheat, and there’s an endless blue sky with a paved road under it,” she said and heard the longing for home in her words. It wasn’t much, it was true, but it had been her home and one of the only places that had ever felt real to her. “It’s definitely simpler there,” she said with a smile.
She glanced at him and saw someone behind them. Allete and another man were following them at a distance down the corridor.
“Do they always do that?” she whispered, leaning in closer to Quincy.
He frowned. “Ah, yes. I’m afraid that’s something else you will have to get used to. Servants or bodyguards following you everywhere you go. It can be quite tiresome, but once we get out into the city, you won’t notice them as much. They’re very good about blending in with the crowd and giving us at least a little peace.”
Olivia would just have to get used to having a shadow and ladies to wait on her, as well as dealing with a man who was both extremely attractive and still such a mystery to her. She glanced down at her outfit again and asked him how they’d managed to find clothes that fit her perfectly.
Quincy laughed. “Magic, of course.” Her lips thinned as her eyes narrowed. “Your mother,” he said. “Before she left, she gave your measurements to a few local seamstresses, bought you quite a few outfits, and then left them in their hands. I’m assuming you like everything?”
“I do. I was sad I couldn’t wear one of the gowns today,” she told him with a sigh. “I’ve never worn anything that beautiful.”
“Good,” he said, then stopped their walking and whispered in her ear. “I picked those out for you.” He winked, and Olivia prayed he had nothing to do with the undergarments that had appeared in the wardrobe, too.
The walk through the rest of the palace was quiet except for Quincy pointing out which halls led where and what each room was. By the time they reached the grand entrance hall, Olivia couldn’t remember any of it, and she was pretty sure her face was still red from thinking things she shouldn’t be about the man whose arm she held.
He stopped and bowed his head, and Olivia glanced up to see King Lamont and her mother walking towards them. She waved at her mom and quickly curtsied to the king, making sure she didn’t tumble over in her heels.
“There they are. A wonderful image of royalty they make,” Lamont beamed.
“Morning, Father,” Quincy said lightly, but Olivia saw how his face tightened.
“Morning, King Lamont,” she said, trying to not notice the stare-down happening between the two men. She disentangled herself from Quincy to give her mom a hug.
Melinda hugged her back tightly and held her at arm’s length. Her eyes glimmered, and Olivia smiled even wider because she was still so happy this early in the morning. Melinda had never been much of an early riser and usually needed a whole pot of coffee to get her going. “Those clothes look amazing on you. Do you like everything? I had some help picking things out.”
“I love all of it,” she said. “Really, it’s beautiful, Mom.”
“Good, because while you’re here, you have to always look your best,” Melinda told her. “There’s lots to do these next few months and so many people for you to meet. We have to make a good first impression.”
Olivia’s nerves tightened, her hand started to sweat, and her heart thudded in her chest as if it were trying to escape. “I know, it’s just so different.”
“You’ll learn to get used to it. Now, today you’re going to go with Quincy into the city, then tomorrow night there is a dinner to meet with all the high-ranking officials of the court,” her mom explained as they walked to the men. “And then, next week, there is another ball that will be held for many of the citizens of the city so that they can see their future queen and princess.”
“That’s all, huh?”
Melinda held her daughter’s face in her hands and smiled as she kissed her forehead. “I know, sweetie, it’s a bit much.”
“No, it’s fine, Mom. I’ll be just fine. Quincy has been great so far.”
“Good. His father will be pleased to hear that. Well, we have to run. We’re meeting with the caterer and musicians today, along with a few other legal matters that must be addressed if I am to become a full-fledged citizen of Bijoux.”
Olivia hadn’t thought about that, but her mom would no longer be a citizen of the US. “As long as you’re happy, Mom, that’s all I care about.” She squeezed her mom’s hands before turning back to see if Quincy was ready to go.
The stare-down with
his father had gotten worse, and both men were glaring at each other though they smiled. Melinda called out to Lamont, oblivious to the tension, and asked if he was ready to go. Lamont tugged on his grey suit jacket and nodded as he turned to his soon-to-be queen.
“For you, my love, I am always ready,” he said, and Olivia felt her heart flutter at the look they gave each other. “Quincy, Olivia, we shall see you both at dinner.”
Olivia simply nodded as Lamont and Melinda headed for the front doors with at least ten men trailing behind them. Her mom was too in love to notice all the people around her and the king. She wished she didn’t notice the bodyguards that had suddenly appeared near her and Quincy as soon as they reached the front doors.
“The weather is wonderful today,” Quincy commented as he glanced up at the partly cloudy sky. “Shall we walk into the city?”
Olivia glanced down at her heels and bit her lip. “Sure. Have to get used to walking in these things anyway.”
“Sir, we advise that we take the car,” a man in a black suit said quietly next to Quincy.
“And I say we are walking, Theo. I’m sure there is no one waiting in the crowd to assassinate me.”
“But sir, your father—”
“Has already left. We are walking, and we will be fine,” Quincy said, sterner this time. “Now then, Princess Olivia, care to take a stroll with me?” He offered his arm again, and she took it. Time to meet the Isle of Bijoux.
***
More clouds had moved in overhead as the prince and princess made their way into the city, but Quincy hardly noticed them. He was too busy studying Olivia’s reactions to everything he pointed out as they walked. The city was breathtaking. Even he couldn’t complain about what his father had accomplished during these last few decades as king. Before, buildings had been dull, plain stone and crumbling from age, but everything was now brightly painted and restored to better than its former glory.
It was like walking through a vibrant painting filled with living colors. Tropical fauna grew everywhere there wasn’t a building, making it feel as if the city was truly part of the jungle it had been built in. The flowers that bloomed were large, and Olivia was constantly reaching out to feel the petals and smell their sweet scents. Vines grew along the stones, reaching the rooftops and climbing up and over. Trees lined the streets, offering shade to those beneath their palm leaves and speckling the cobbled streets with sunlight.
“This is amazing,” Olivia whispered again. “These buildings are fantastic! Look at this architecture and the archways, the exposed stones. I’ve never seen anything like it!”
Quincy’s face lifted in a smile. At least she’d been able to make his day better after the tense conversation with his father that morning. Lamont had asked if he’d had a chance to look through the folders of potential wives, but he hadn’t even touched it. Finding a wife was the last thing he wanted to do, and while he was busy with Olivia, he would keep putting it off. Seeing to his soon-to-be sister was just as important in his mind.
“There is another part of town I think you will truly enjoy,” he said and tugged at her hand. “This way. Even the streets are painted down there. It’s like you’re walking into the heart of the isle.”
He caught her sideways glance and the way her smile widened. “You really do love this place.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
“No, I guess it’s just the marriage thing that bugs you,” she said quietly.
Quincy didn’t answer. This woman was more perceptive than he originally thought, and he wasn’t sure he liked it right then. “I love my home and my people,” he told her. “But an arranged marriage feels wrong to me. I haven’t really lived yet, and to marry someone I don’t know?” He squeezed her hand, forgetting that he’d been holding it in the first place, and they came a sudden stop.
Their eyes met, and they stared at each other, not paying any attention to their guards or servants or passersby on the street. All Quincy saw were her eyes and the questioning look in them before he forced himself to let go of her hand.
“The way we talk,” he said, clearing his throat and continuing walking, “that’s how I want it to be with whomever I marry. How can I know that will work if I can’t spend time with the woman beforehand?”
Olivia nodded, and he saw her tuck a stray curl behind her ear as a small smile touched her lips. “Then I guess you need to start dating your potential wives. Spend time with them like you are with me.” His steps slowed, and he looked at her. “That’s not what I meant! I mean… not like with me, but like how we’re doing right now,” she said quickly, muttering until his laughter stopped her.
“I know what you meant, Olivia. I can only hope one of those women is not as shallow as they all look.” If only one of those women was you. The thought crossed his mind so suddenly, he paused. Then Quincy resumed walking, as if he hadn’t realized something great and terrible at the same time.
“Here it is,” he said hurriedly, to push those dangerous thoughts away.
They passed under another archway over the street with metal gates simply for decoration. The courtyard they entered was one of the best places in the city. It was where Quincy would often go despite his father’s assumption that he only hung out at clubs. He turned to see Olivia’s reaction and was not disappointed. Her eyes moved across the street painted in various shades of tans and whites that trailed into blues to look like the ocean that surrounded the island. The walls that lined the sides showed scenes of palm trees and large pink and purple hibiscus flowers, vines trailing up with small white blooms. Off in the distance was the best painting of all. The water crashed against the rocks which were set against a jaw-dropping saffron and vermillion sunset so well-painted that it looked real.
“Who did all this?” Olivia asked quietly beside him. She turned in a circle, taking it all in.
“A local artist my father found about a decade ago. He did most of the city and died last year, but we do a good job of keeping everything looking fresh.”
She nodded in agreement as she turned again, but the smile fell from her face and she hung her head. “Why do they keep doing that?”
Quincy thought she was talking about the bodyguards on their radios, but when he turned, he saw a group of women, young like Olivia, glaring at her as she stood so close to him. He smiled at them and waved. Instantly, they grinned and giggled.
“They think I’m courting you,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“I’m single, remember? All the women on the island want the attractive prince.”
“Then maybe you should tell them we’re not dating so they stop looking like they’re going to jump me.”
“I don’t know. This could be quite entertaining,” he said as he rubbed his chin.
“Quincy,” she warned. “Seriously? As your future sister, if you don’t tell them the truth, I fill find a way to embarrass the hell out of you.”
“How’s that?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something. Do you want to take that risk?” Olivia was no longer the sweet woman from Nebraska but something else entirely. He felt as if he stared at a bit of himself—a prankster and someone who did not back down.
He grinned widely at her, bowed his head, and turned to the young women and everyone else gathered in the courtyard. “If I may have everyone’s attention, please?”
The people quieted and stopped to listen to their prince, even though their gazes returned to Olivia again and again.
“I know many of you have heard that my father, King Lamont, will be taking a new wife this summer. Olivia,” he said as he motioned to her, “is the future queen’s daughter and therefore the new princess. Please welcome her to our lovely island kingdom.”
Quincy reached back and took Olivia’s hand to pull her forward as the crowd applauded and cheered for her. They started to move towards them, and each one wanted to
shake hands with the new princess. It had been a long time since they’d had one on the island, and Quincy could tell they were quite excited to meet this woman from US. He worried how she would handle such a crowd, but Olivia took it in stride as she shook each one of their hands and smiled in greeting. She even went so far as to ask their names and what they did on the island.
When the group of young women approached, now all smiles and curtsies, Olivia actually pulled them aside to speak with them on their own.
“Are you girls in classes right now?” she asked.
“We are, princess,” the brunette with dark tanned skin said with a smile.
“Let me guess, you’re a painter and you draw. Pastels or charcoal?”
“Charcoal,” the girl said with a laugh. “How could you tell, princess?”
Quincy leaned closer, too, curious.
“The paint that’s still in your hair,” she told the brunette, “and the charcoal that always stains your fingers, no matter how hard you scrub. I’m a painter, too.”
The girls smiled even wider and started talking with their friends excitedly in French. He could tell Olivia had no idea what they were saying, but they turned back to her, bouncing on the balls of their feet, as the brunette asked if they could show her something.
“You are new to the island. You need to know where to buy the best paint!”
“That would be perfect! All mine were ruined on the way here.” Olivia turned to Quincy. “Well, Your Highness, what do you say? Slight detour to a paint shop?”
Quincy glanced at the bodyguards. His head man, Theo, stared at the girls long and hard before he asked for the address of the shop. They told him, and Quincy watched him pull out his cell phone and bring up the GPS.
“Your Highness, Princess, we may proceed to the paint shop,” he said finally. He turned back into the silent sentry Quincy was accustomed to.
“Well then, ladies,” Quincy said, “lead the way.”
