Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance)

by Natasha Moore

  A chill ran over her skin. “No.” How could he say that? Didn’t he know her at all?

  “Stay in Mezzano, Mia. Stay here with me.” Now she could detect the desperation in his voice. “We can make it work. I will be with you as often as I can.”

  “No.”

  “I can’t let you go.”

  “You have to.” Her voice cracked. “You must know I will not be your mistress while you are married to someone else. I can’t.” To watch him marry someone else? To see him have children with her? No matter how much she loved him, she could never be content with tiny bits of stolen time.

  “There seems to be a lot of things you cannot do this morning.”

  Mia cleared her throat, stepped away. Vittorio’s fingers dragged along her skin as he reluctantly let her go.

  “I did not intend this,” he said. “I did not intend any of this.”

  “I know. You will be king. You need a wife. A royal wife to be your queen and bear heirs to your throne. It cannot be me.” She turned away before he could see the tears, blinked them away before they could fall. One last glance out the window at the lovely garden and she turned back to him and lifted her chin. “I want to go home.”

  The plane ride to Stagatland was spent mostly in silence. Vittorio regretted that they were parting on bad terms. He would miss the quiet times with Mia, eating together, talking together, nearly as much as he would the passion they’d shared in his bed.

  The sudden panic that had crushed his chest that morning had been unexpected. He’d not planned to ask her to stay with him. The yearning to keep her with him had overridden his good sense. Again, he had been thinking with his heart instead of his head. He had to heed his father’s warning.

  It was not uncommon for the royal men of Mezzano to keep a mistress on the side. It was the way of men who could not marry for love. If Mia would have agreed, he could have had it all. A royal wife and a passionate lover.

  But he knew now he would not have allowed it, even if she had agreed. He would not cheat Mia out of the life she deserved.

  They were nearly to Stagatland when Vittorio crossed the aisle to sit beside Mia. She had ignored him for the entire flight. When he sat down she looked away from the window and steadily met his gaze.

  “I am sorry, Mia. For everything.” He took a deep breath. “No, I take that back. I am not sorry for spending these past weeks with you. I am grateful for the time we had together. But I should not have asked you to give up your life for me. You deserve a family of your own.

  Children of your own.”

  She nodded. “I want that. A family. Children. I do want that.”

  “I remember seeing you with the children in the garden, holding hands and walking the pathway like I used to do with my mother.” Vittorio took her hand, kissed her fingertips. “You will make a wonderful mother. Some man will be very lucky to have you as his wife.”

  “I will miss you, Vittorio. I’ll remember our time together fondly. But once we leave the plane, I cannot acknowledge more than a passing acquaintance with you. You met Birgitte at your father’s birthday ball and I simply agreed to come to Mezzano to help out for a little while.”

  “I understand.” Vittorio leaned forward. “If I will never be able to do this again, I must do it one last time.” He slid his fingers through her hair and covered her mouth with his. It was a sweet kiss, a tender glide of lips, a soft exchange of breath. She pressed her hand to his cheek for a long moment, then let it drop.

  Mia nodded to him, coolly, properly. “Your Highness.” She turned her face to the window then and didn’t look at him again.

  Mia had only just gotten settled back into her little cottage when the invitation came by messenger. Of course, she would be invited to the dinner at the palace the following evening to welcome the crown prince of Mezzano. To celebrate the upcoming union of Prince Vittorio and Princess Birgitte. Mia curled up in the wide chair in front of the fireplace and stared into the flames. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the pain.

  Couldn’t she have had a few days to hole up and lick her wounds? A few days to grieve? Some quiet time alone to figure out what she was going to do with the rest of her life? Just because she’d known her time with Vittorio was going to end, that didn’t mean it was any easier to accept when it happened.

  Still, she couldn’t refuse to make an appearance. Looking at her meager wardrobe, Mia regretted not keeping at least one knockout outfit to wear to dinner at the palace. What could she wear that had any chance of helping her stand out against Birgitte and whatever gorgeous dress she would decide to wear?

  It didn’t matter what she wore. Mia would never take anything but second place.

  She fingered the long strand of diamonds around her neck. It was the only thing she hadn’t been able to leave behind in Mezzano. She would wear this every day beneath her clothing. No one needed to know she wore a string of diamonds given to her by a prince. The stones were warm against her skin and she remembered the fire in Vittorio’s eyes when he gave them to her. The way their bodies had come together afterward.

  The ice blue ball gown she’d worn that first night took up too much room in her closet.

  She couldn’t wear it tomorrow night. It was Birgitte’s. Would always be Birgitte’s. She’d never wear it again. It reminded her too much of her time with Vittorio.

  Mia dug into the back of the closet and pulled out a long dress she’d worn a few years ago to a friend’s wedding. There was nothing sexy about it, but the high neckline would allow her to hide the diamonds.

  They would be her little secret.

  Annika stopped by the next evening to go with Mia as her guest, so she didn’t have to arrive at the palace alone. Anni took one look at her dress and cried out in dismay. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

  “I don’t have anything else to wear. What’s wrong with it?”

  “The deep red is a lovely color on you, but the dress has no shape. Why would you wear such a sack?” Anni walked around her, fussing. “I remember you wearing a thin silver belt a few times. Where is it?”

  “Why do you want that?”

  “Humor me.” Mia gave her the belt and Anni buckled it loosely around Mia’s hips, then bloused the dress slightly. Mia looked at her reflection in the mirror in the corner and was surprised at how much better the dress looked that way. Anni started playing with her hair. “Now don’t you want to do something with your hair? Maybe wear it up?”

  “No.” She knew Birgitte would be wearing hers up. “I like it down.” Vittorio liked it down.

  “What’s this?” Anni asked. She’d seen the necklace, Mia’s secret necklace, when she’d lifted up her long hair. “You don’t wear a necklace like this hidden underneath.”

  “No, Anni.”

  But her friend had already drawn the necklace out from beneath the dress and it draped over the bodice, the stones sparkling in the ceiling light. “This is beautiful. Did you get it in Mezzano?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you hide it?” Anni brushed her fingers over the stones. “They almost look real.”

  “I know. I love it.”

  “Well, it looks beautiful with this dress so you have to wear it out.”

  “All right.” Mia hoped everyone else would assume the necklace was fake as well. She grabbed her coat. “Let’s go.”

  There was a long receiving line. Annika hadn’t been inside the palace before, so she was enjoying the experience. Mia was quiet and let Anni babble, commenting on the décor and servants and the people standing in the receiving line in front and behind them. Mia saw her parents up ahead in line, had waved and smiled, but couldn’t say anything. She was afraid if she opened her mouth and tried to speak, the screams of sorrow and frustration that she’d been holding in would come bursting out and she wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Suddenly the line seemed to be moving faster. Too fast. Too soon she would be close enough to see the guest of honor standing next to the prin
cess. How could she get through this? Her head pounded. She had to get out of here before she made a scene. Before she made a fool out of herself and brought Anni down with her.

  But Mia couldn’t find a way out without calling attention to herself and so she continued to move down the hallway, Anni still chatting at her side. They were close enough now that she could see the top of his dark head above the guests in front of them. She began to tremble. “I don’t think I can do this,” she murmured.

  “What did you say? Are you all right?” Anni asked.

  Mia clutched her stomach. “I don’t feel very well.”

  “It’s probably all that traveling. And staying in that warm climate. It can’t be healthy.” She grabbed Mia’s arm. “We’re almost there. Can you make it?”

  Mia glanced up and saw Vittorio’s dark gaze locked on her over the shoulders of the people in front of them. Her heart thudded against her ribs. It was too late to back out now. “I hope so.”

  Vittorio wondered if the entire population of Stagatland had turned out tonight. It had already been a long day. He’d agreed to keep Birgitte’s deception quiet and she’d agreed to be his wife. She understood the practical side of the union. There were no illusions of love or romance between them. This was the business agreement he’d planned to propose when he’d had the invitation sent to her all those weeks ago.

  The king and queen were happy with the union. Birgitte seemed happy with the arrangement. Vittorio wished he could be happy with any part of it.

  It was for the sake of his country. Vittorio reminded himself over and over that it was for Mezzano that he let Mia go. It was for his people that he was going to marry a royal woman he did not love. Could never love.

  It was for Mezzano.

  Now he was standing in the grand ballroom beside his future bride and her parents, smiling until his face ached. He was trapped and he didn’t see any way out. Duty first. That had been drummed into him from an early age. The future king must marry a royal woman and sire heirs to the throne.

  There was no way around it.

  Think of Mezzano.

  Vittorio felt as if he was on auto-pilot. Smiling. Nodding. Greeting. All the faces a blur. The names meaningless. Then suddenly Birgitte grabbed his hand, threaded her fingers with his, and stepped closer to him. He didn’t know how anyone could ever have mistaken Mia for Birgitte. The princess was lovely, yes, but she didn’t radiate the warmth that Mia did. Her eyes weren’t as bright a blue, or her lips as sweet and plump.

  He looked over at the princess, wondering what caused her to make the contact she hadn’t wanted earlier. He followed the princess’s gaze down the receiving line and caught sight of soft, white blonde hair and sad blue eyes. He froze. His heart raced.

  “Mia!” Birgitte cried out.

  The princess wrapped her free arm around Mia and drew her close. Which brought her close to Vittorio as well. He could detect her soft scent even with all the other cloying fragrances in the air around them. Mia cleared her throat and stepped out of Birgitte’s embrace.

  “Congratulations to you both,” she said, her voice steady. Music to his ears. “Your Highness, I’d like to introduce you to my friend Annika Lund.”

  Vittorio dragged his eyes away from Mia, in her amazing red dress and the string of diamonds around her neck. It was all he could do to push back the memory of her in his bed, wearing nothing but that sparkling necklace. He recognized the other woman from that cold day on the sidewalk outside the bakery. “I am pleased to meet you. You work with Mia, yes?”

  Annika nodded, giggled when he kissed the back of her hand. “Yes.” Then she seemed to remember propriety and curtsied. “Your Royal Highness.” She stepped back, looked at Mia who seemed frozen in place.

  He took Mia’s hand then, unable to resist. “It is lovely to see you again.”

  “Your Highness.” She dipped her head, curtsied in the most proper way that made him want to scream. Made him want to tear his hand out of Birgitte’s and drag Mia into his arms. She looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Hi, Rico. Has your boss given you a day off yet?”

  Rico’s chuckle rumbled through the air and made Vittorio growl under his breath. “Not yet, Miss Holmberg.”

  Mia caught Vittorio’s gaze and slowly slid her hand from his. “I wish you both much happiness.” She caught Annika around the waist and turned away from him. She hugged her aunt and uncle and then she disappeared into the sea of people in the ballroom.

  He went back on auto-pilot again. Smiling. Nodding. Greeting. All the while his mind remained with Mia, wherever she was. Vittorio knew his father was wrong. It didn’t matter who he married. He would be distracted by his thoughts of Mia for the rest of his life.

  The sound of pounding on the cottage door woke Mia from an uneasy sleep. She’d snuck out of the palace before dinner was served, pleading a stomach ache. She’d been wrapped in a blanket in her chair by the fire dreaming of being in Vittorio’s arms again. The fire had died down to embers and the room was chilly. Blinking, she pulled the blanket tighter around her. At first she thought maybe she’d dreamt the knock at the door, but then it came again. “Mia!”

  Her chest clenched when she heard Vittorio’s voice. “Mia! Open the door!” She stumbled from the chair and crossed the room. More pounding.

  “Mia!”

  She gingerly opened the door, peeked out through a crack. He looked frozen. He looked wonderful. “What are you doing here?” Vittorio stamped his feet on the snowy stoop. She shook her head. “You’ll need to learn to dress warmer when you visit Stagatland.”

  “Let me in.”

  Poor Rico stood behind him, beside a black car parked in the drive. No limo, no local driver, so that was good. She had no close neighbors, so maybe no one would know the princess’ new fiancé was visiting their school teacher late at night.

  “No. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I had to see you.”

  There was nothing she wanted more, but she couldn’t bear to invite him in and then watch him leave again. “Go away, Vittorio. Go back to the palace and your future bride.”

  “One last time, Mia.”

  “Don’t ask me to do this,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

  “Let me in.” His voice was softer, deeper. “I am leaving for Mezzano tonight.”

  “Tonight? I don’t understand.” She opened the door far enough to step into the doorway and wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Why would he leave right after the banquet? “Is your father all right?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. It is other matters that take me back at this time. Let me in, Mia. I will send Rico to the airport to make final arrangements. He will be back in one hour.”

  He looked so cold, so miserable, that she almost weakened and let him in. “No.” She shivered from the frigid air. She started to close the door, but he stopped it with his hand. She ducked behind the door, only her face peeking out. “Don’t ask this of me. It’s not fair. It’s not right.”

  His palm pressed against the outside panel of the door. He leaned closer. She could see his breath in the air. “I find myself doing unforgivable things, wishing for impossible things, in order to be with you.”

  She pressed her palm against the inside panel of the door. “I can’t see you again. I will make my excuses for the wedding. I couldn’t bear it.”

  He nodded slowly, sadly. “You will find someone to make you happy. Someone who can give you children and the kind of life you’ve always wanted.”

  “You will be a wonderful king,” she said. “Your people love you and you will rule wisely.” She allowed herself a small smile. “You have a good heart, Vittorio. It will see you through.”

  Vittorio frowned. How foolish it was that she was going to miss that frown. “I need to rule with my head. Not my heart.”

  “I think the best rulers should use both.”

  “I will miss you, cara mia.”

  Mia cleared her throat. “
You know, it never would have worked out between us anyway. Not in the long run. Not after this crazy fire between us burned out.” Though she doubted their fire would have ever burned out.

  “No?” He stomped his feet on the cold ground. She should send him a pair of warm boots as a wedding gift.

  “I could never be a princess, Vittorio. Or a queen.” She laughed, a quick bitter bark.

  “Could you see me as a queen?”

  “I would have been proud to have you as my queen.”

  “Let’s be real. I am a simple country woman. The last thing I would want is to have to deal with all the pomp that you royals have to deal with for the rest of my life. Ceremonies? Spectacles? That’s not me. I would be an embarrassment to you.”

  “You would never embarrass me. You held your own in the palace.”

  “I ate in the kitchen with the help. I spoke with your security guards and cooks and musicians more than I did with you.”

  “You are making excuses.”

  She was trying to convince him, as well as herself. Convince them both that it was better this way. “There is no point to this discussion anyway. I have to get on with my life.” She swallowed. “And you have to get out of the cold.”

  “Of course.” He straightened, lifted his hand from the door. She swore she could feel the loss of heat on her side. But he didn’t step away, didn’t look away. Mia looked over his shoulder at Rico with a pleading gaze.

  “Ready, Your Highness?” Rico called.

  “No.” A wild look darkened Vittorio’s eyes. He wasn’t speaking to Rico, but to Mia.

  “No. I cannot do it. I will not marry Birgitte. I will not let you go.”

  “Vittorio…”

  “There is a way we can be together,” he said, the tone urgent, mad. “I will step down,

  Mia.”

  She gasped. “No.” She opened the door wide and the blanket slipped from her shoulders as she moved closer to him.

  “I will renounce the throne. Let Stefano take the burden.”