by Kyle Baxter
Frederick gave them a slight bow. “Yes, it’s good to see you all again, under better circumstances of course.”
“I don’t understand.” His father looked at both of them carefully. His brows knitted together.
“Prince Frederick,” Joel said, slowly gesturing to the man, “was the one who gave up his seat so that Mariah could fly here. Together. With you all.” He waved his hand in front of Freddie to Dad’s stunned face.
Mom gasped and put a hand over her mouth. “You were the soldier in fatigues with the beard.”
“Yes, Mom.” Caty let out a loud huff.
“His Highness is always so considerate,” a stunning raven-haired beauty murmured from beside Frederick. She was clean-cut and feminine. Chic. Joel noticed that her dress matched Freddie’s suit. That is not an accident. She must know him or someone in the palace—castle.
“Oh, forgive my manners.” Freddie’s face turned red. Joel remembered suddenly that the prince must be out of practice with all the niceties. Freddie took her arm and introduced her “This is Duchess Julia von Torven, an old family friend.”
She held out her hand and Joel took it. “It’s so nice to meet you. Frederick has told me a lot about you,” she said.
“He has?” Joel croaked, his heart racing. And there went the flop sweats again. Why is it so damn hot in here? Did they turn the heat up?
“Well, not that much . . .” Freddie’s face flushed and he looked down.
He was so cute, almost boyish. Joel castigated himself for letting this guy go. What is wrong with me?
“Oh, my boy.” Dad reached over to shake Frederick’s hand but faltered. “Thank you, sir.”
Frederick took his father’s hand and shook it under Luc’s keen eye. “It was my pleasure, sir. Your son kept me quite diverted.”
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Joel gave Frederick an exaggerated wink—just to watch Luc squirm. That man was a pill.
“Yes, I think ‘diverted’ is the safest.” Frederick indicated his handler with a tilt of his head and a glint in his eye.
Julia tittered and gave Joel a warm, knowing smile, like they shared a secret.
Frederick pointed at the septet playing in the corner and continued. “I asked them if they knew any Justin Bieber for you, but I’m afraid they were at a loss.” He turned to Julia. “Joey here loves Justin Bieber.”
“I like one song,” Joel spat as Mariah and Caty giggled behind him. “An acoustic cover of one of his songs—God, I could just smack you.” The gaggle of people around them gasped. Joel’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d said. But Freddie only laughed. Julia cackled like it was the funniest damn thing she’d ever heard.
“Frederick, you were right. He’s a scream!” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
Joel gave the prince a conspiratorial glance. “She’s fun.”
“You have no idea.” Freddie beamed.
“Yes, very interesting,” Luc interjected. “But now we must move on, sir. Other people to meet . . . and the photographers are waiting outside.”
“Yes, thank you, Luc,” Prince Frederick said with a deep sigh. He allowed himself to be led away to the next person waiting to meet him.
Joel watched him walk away with Julia, and the cluster of people followed. That was certainly something. He stood in place for a long moment, stunned. Then, halfway across the room, Freddie turned back and gave him the barest hint of a wink. A wide smile broke across his face. Oof, that man.
“That is some smile,” Mariah whispered in his ear. “And that must have been some layover. Do I even want to know?”
Joel did not take his eyes off Freddie’s retreating form. “Probably not.”
“Slut.” Mariah nudged him in the side.
If only. Neither of his parents nor Caty heard their comments, or at least they deliberately ignored them, though he did catch an amused look from his pixie-ish mother.
“I can’t believe you know the prince. He’s a dreamboat.” Caty playfully punched him in the shoulder. He barely registered the jab; he was too busy watching Freddie talk to people, get introduced to people. With every introduction, the prince chatted with them a bit. It was a proper business move. Caty continued. “You didn’t even introduce me.”
His father rubbed his hands together. “This is so good for us.”
“Wait, what?” Joel turned to his father. “What are you talking about?” Good for us? What us?
“Me, you should’ve introduced me,” Caty continued in a whine. “It was really unfair of you not to.”
Shaking his head, he turned from her to his father. “No, I meant . . .”
“I don’t think he has eyes for you,” Mariah told Caty, sharing a knowing glance with Mom.
“Ugh, no, as if!” Caty nearly screeched. “He’s as old as Joel, buUUut he might have younger friends.” Mariah took Caty’s arm and pulled her away. Mom took the other arm and the two led Caty to the dessert station, complaining as they left.
“What do you mean this is good for us?” Joel turned to his father.
“You know the prince.” Dad put an arm around his shoulder and turned away from the crowd. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I need you to get close to him, you know? Help me sell him on my company, okay?”
“No.” Joel pushed his father’s arm off him. He barely knew Freddie, but he liked him. Joel was not going to use their mutual affection to further his father’s business. It felt gross and ugly. Sordid. “I am not doing that,” he hissed and, turning on a heel, stormed away from his father.
Chapter Thirteen
Elaborate Lives
Hiding in the corner, Joel sat in a chair with steam coming out of his ears. How could his father ask that? Joel understood business, but this felt foul. And it felt out of character. His dad was kind and firm with his tough love, but this was off.
From his seated position, Joel scanned the crowd, looking for some sign of Freddie. He assumed the moving throng of people was where he was. If he stood, he’d see him easily, but then his father might see him. Joel all but towered over most of the guests.
He caught sight of Freddie, briefly. His now perfectly coiffed mane was unmistakable.
Freddie was a prince. What the hell? Joel wondered if that was what he tried to tell him at the train station before Joel gave him the what-for. Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that’s where the conversation was going? True, but all the more reason you should have let him finish, you dolt, Joel scolded himself.
It was confusing. The normal, down-to-earth guy he met in the airport in England, the guy who helped him watch Maeve’s kids, who stayed up late watching a silly rom-com with him, was European royalty. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
He was somehow happy for him. Does that make sense? He already thought Freddie was a prince of a guy and now it turned out he was an actual prince. How is this my life? However, it did make the possibility of an affair seem remote. Freddie wasn’t kidding when he said his life was complicated. Robert’s going to be disappointed. And Larry . . . And me, dammit.
How would that even work? Would they sneak off to a tower and make love in the castle? Okay, that would be a lot of fun. Would he have to come and go by secret tunnels? Please, let there be secret tunnels.
And who was Lady Julia to him? Freddie said she was an old friend. But was she a friend or a friend? Was Freddie gay or bi or just curious? Joel found suddenly that he didn’t care; he’d take him whatever. As if, you need to calm down, Taylor Swift, he chided himself. I’m getting carried away.
And just like that, Freddie caught his eye. Or did I catch his? The prince’s head gestured toward a corner, where long draperies hung in a cluster. Joel knew banquet halls enough to suss out that a door was probably hiding behind them. After returning the nod to the smiling prince, he got up and darted carefully in a half-crouch in that direction, still avoiding his father’s eye.
Behind the drapes, Joel did indeed find a door. He stepped thro
ugh it and onto a landing for a medieval-looking spiral stairwell. He let out a gasp that echoed up the building. The steps and walls were all stone and not plastered over, clearly original to the castle. Joel sat on the bottom step going up and waited.
The iTranslate app on his phone told him this was a Treppenhaus. The air here was damp, even chilly, and he wondered what it must have been like to grow up in a place like this, a real-life castle.
The house he shared with Larry in New Orleans was built in the thirties, and that felt ancient. The number of years that had passed for this place was nearly unimaginable. Joel wanted nothing more than to explore the grounds and catacombs, to search through the attics and towers. You could spend a lifetime doing that.
The ghosts that must live here. Spirits did not frighten him, nor did he necessarily believe in them. In New Orleans, you lived with the odd every day. Some folks chose to make it their life and livelihood. Most people just shrugged and went on with their day. The odd and unexplained was part of the fabric of life in the Big Easy.
After ten minutes, a door opened above, and Freddie came bouncing down the wide stone steps. Joel barely had time to stand before Freddie swept him up in his arms and into an embrace. Stepping back, he took Joel’s face in both of his hands and searched Joel’s eyes. “Hullo there. How are you?”
“Me? I’m great, now. Now that I got to see you again.” Joel slumped back against the wall and let out a huge exhalation. “I was afraid I wouldn’t ever—that I—Freddie, I . . .” Joel started and lost his train of thought. He stumbled, unsteady suddenly, but Freddie held out an arm, supporting him.
“Spider boy, are you okay?” Freddie asked. He kept his hands on Joel, on his face, his neck, rubbing his shoulders as if making sure Joel was really there.
“I’m a bit overwhelmed,” Joel said, his heart was racing. “This is a lot. You’re a prince?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t explain before about all this.” Freddie gestured to his whole body.
“I didn’t give you the chance.” Joel put a hand on the side of the prince’s head. “I kinda cut you off and stormed out.”
“You like storming off, I think. But I understand, and let’s be honest.” Freddie’s face dropped. “That was where the conversation was going anyway.”
Joel pulled his hand off of Frederick and let it drop to his side. “Yeah, I was afraid you’d say that.”
“I do apologize, but I want to be honest with you.” Freddie held up both hands, pleading. “My life is very complicated at the moment.”
“I know. I heard. There are rumors . . .” Joel stumbled over his words. This was tough. What do you say? “Have you seen your older brother?”
“No, nor my parents. They aren’t here. I haven’t even had a moment alone with my sister, and with the madding crowd out there, we’ve barely spoken. It’s funny. Here I was worried about seeing my family and I’ve hardly seen any of them yet, not really.”
“Do you—” Joel looked around. “How long do we have? Do—do we have a few minutes?” He reached up and pushed a lock of Freddie’s hair off his forehead.
“Yes, but only just.” Freddie laughed ruefully. “Getting away from Luc and the gremlins is harder than I remembered. He’s a machine. Bastard even follows me to the loo, waits outside.”
Joel touched the prince’s now-smooth cheeks. He couldn’t get enough of touching him. “Can you escape while he goes to the bathroom?”
“He never goes to the toilet.” Freddie’s eyes narrowed. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him go to the loo—it’s kind of creepy.”
They both laughed and Joel reached out and put a hand on Freddie’s broad chest, and the man held it there. He wanted Joel’s hands on him! Why didn’t I do this before? “You know, my father thinks I should try to ingratiate myself with you—if he only knew.”
Frederick’s sharp eyes sparkled, and Joel saw a thought forming behind them. “Really? He’s here with the clean fracking company, right? I thought he was your father when I heard, as there are no other Americans here tonight. But the last name Hernandez confused me. Then I remembered he’s your stepfather.”
“Yeah, fracking, not my thing.” Joel looked upward. “But as he likes to remind me, it pays the bills.”
“Luc told me that the king—uh, my father—is curious to hear what he has to say.” Freddie’s face turned thoughtful and his brow furrowed. Joel wondered if Freddie thought of his father first as king rather than parent. The prince continued. “That might work.”
“What do you mean?” Joel saw a light in Freddie’s eyes as a smile cracked on his handsome face. Those dimples!
“I would really like to show you around, show you my Etreustein.” Freddie’s voice softened and his cheeks reddened. “And that will give us an excuse to be together—spend time together.” His cheeks got redder and he added quickly, “But only if you want to. As I said, everything in my life is so damn confusing at the moment. I don’t know how much free time I’ll actually have to spare . . .”
“And I’m on vacation with my parents . . .” Joel looked down at his feet. “But I’d like that. I like spending time with you.”
“Me too, and I’ll make time for you. But I want to be clear. Even if we . . .” He made a gesture between the two of them. “I have duties and obligations and I cannot promise anything.”
“Yeah, I know. I get it.” Joel let out a harsh puff of air and looked heavenward. “And you know, I don’t do long distance anymore, not since . . .”
Then he looked at Freddie’s face. There was a sheen of sweat on the top of the prince’s cleft chin, right below his lip. Reaching over, he intended to wipe it off, but Freddie gathered him into his arms and pulled him close. Their foreheads touched and their lips hovered near each other. Joel’s head swam with the heat of the moment. Then a thought flared brightly in his mind, making him step away. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“What?” Prince Frederick asked, taking Joel’s hands in his, pulling him close again.
Joel winced, shutting his eyes tight. “Back at the hotel in London, what I said about that old photo. I called you unfortunate-looking.”
Freddie laughed. “I was.”
“No, but you were . . .” Joel stepped back, shaking his head. “The kid in the photo was blond. How . . . ?”
“Yes, my hair got darker as I got older, turned auburn.” He poked Joel with a finger. “It happens.”
“I’m so stupid.” Joel pulled him into another hug. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s fine, Joey.” Freddie rubbed his back, holding tight. “But please, don’t call yourself stupid. I don’t like it.”
Joel nodded, and relief washed over him. A pleasant fog descended over his mind and the world faded away as they rocked back and forth. It was just the two of them. This is nice. Before they got too deep and went too far, Joel pushed Freddie away again. “I hate to do this, but you need to get back. They’re going to miss the guest of honor and Luc seems like the type to call out the palace guard.” Castle guard?
“Not immediately, but yes, yes he would.” Freddie stood up straight and adjusted his suit jacket and the bulge in his trousers. “I may need a moment.” He took deep breaths and shook his hands.
“How are you out there? That crowd was following you pretty tightly.” Joel searched his face. Freddie seemed to be hit and miss in crowds. He was okay in Heathrow, but there was also lots of space, more avenues of escape. Not so many in the Great Hall, where a crowd was hanging on his every word and movement.
“No panic attack. Thanks for asking.” Freddie scowled. Joel started to speak up and apologize, but Freddie cut him off. “No, I mean that. I appreciate you asking. It’s nice having someone around I can talk to, someone who knows . . . who cares.”
“I think Lady Julia cares.” Joel put a hand on the prince’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Duchess Julia,” Freddie corrected. “She does, but I only just arrived and didn’t want to burden her with my
problems just yet.” Freddie fidgeted with his tie again and looked Joel’s ensemble over. “No Superman lining on your jacket? No Superman tie, no Superman anywhere? How about the underwear? Do you have Superman BVDs?”
Joel grinned. “Spoilers.”
“And he’s a Doctor Who fan.” Frederick groaned. “You are a geek.” Running a hand over his hair, he put everything back into place. He handed Joel his phone. “May I have your number?”
“His Royal Highness wants my number.” Joel giggled hysterically and entered his number into a contact form, then handed it back. This is the craziest vacation.
“The prince wants more than your number.” Freddie gave him a wicked eye as he fired off a quick text. “Now you have mine. It’s a private, unregistered line, but let’s stay as anonymous as we can, shall we?”
“A burner phone? Cool, I feel like a spy.” Joel’s phone pinged its receipt and he created a new contact file. “What name should I put on it?”
Freddie didn’t think for very long. “Number 34.”
“From The Count of Monte Cristo.” Joel liked that story. “Coolness.”
Frederick gave him a quizzical smile. “You know it?”
“I have read a book or two, Your Royal Highness,” Joel clucked. “I thought we established that. Now, go! Get back to the party.”
Freddie smirked. “All right, since you’re throwing me out . . . I guess I do need to get back to the salt mine. I’ve meetings most of tomorrow but I’ll reach out.”
The prince walked around in a tight circle to burn off his energy. Then, looking Joel up and down, he let out a shrill whistle. “Mein Gott, you are so fucking hot.” Holding an arm in the air, Freddie threw two fingers up in a V and said, “Okay, Freddie is out, peace,” as he moved to retreat up the stairs.
“Wait a minute. Where did that come from?” Joel demanded.
“Oh, it was from an American cartoon one of the blokes in my unit liked. It became a thing.” With a wink, he turned and took the stairs two at a time. Joel rushed after him to watch. Freddie vaulted a railing as he went, in a dinner jacket and slacks. It was an amusing and sexy sight. He really is a superhero.
