Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5

by McKenna James

  I traced my fingers along the looping script, imagining the white knight’s steady hand holding the tip of his pen. I pulled another message out and stared at it, thankful for such a wonderful distraction.

  If you could run away to any place in the world, where would that be? Can I tag along? On the back, it read: Eleven more days.

  I’d received exactly eight of the knight’s calling cards, all of them stowed away for safekeeping. They were all sweet and funny. He wrote to me like he knew me intimately, even though I knew nothing about him. It kept me on edge, but in a good way, trying to anticipate where the next envelope would be stashed for me to find the next day.

  I closed my eyes and traced the edges of the cardstock with the pads of my fingers. I didn’t know if I had enough patience to wait another six days to meet him again.

  If we met again.

  7

  Rodrigo

  Tomorrow was the day.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I was this nervous. And that was really telling considering the fact that I was hanging approximately ten meters off the ground, suspended by nothing but a rope, anchored to a pin in the rock-climbing wall, which was attached to my harness with a single carabiner. My forearms, my biceps, and my shoulders were all burning, shaking either from the build-up of excitement or from exhaustion—I really couldn’t tell anymore.

  “I think I’m stuck,” huffed Oliver. He was dangling off the wall with a grip on a precarious hold. “How do you keep convincing me to come with you to places like this.”

  “Quit your whining,” I teased. “You’re cooped up in your studio all day. A little exercise is good for you. Don’t you want to be all buff and toned to impress that guy you’ve been seeing?”

  Oliver flushed bright red. “H-how did you know?”

  “Please, I know a man in love when I see him.”

  He snorted. “Do tell, oh wise one.”

  “You’ve started shaving every morning, for one.”

  “So do you.”

  “You’re wearing new cologne.”

  “So are you.”

  “And you can’t stop smiling to yourself.”

  “Back at you, bro.”

  We both laughed, though Oliver had to stop mid-chortle when he finally managed to find a good position on the wall.

  “I think I almost gave myself away at the party,” I mumbled, reaching to my side to grab a bit of chalk to rub on the next ledge for traction.

  “How so?”

  “I didn’t realize I bowed the exact same way to Marina the way I did at the party. I meant it as a joke, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

  “Do you think she noticed?”

  “If she did, she didn’t say anything.”

  Oliver sighed. “Why do you have to make things so complicated? Just tell her you like her already. What’s with all the theatrics?”

  “It’s romantic,” I retorted.

  “No need to get defensive. I was just asking.” Oliver climbed up one more step before slipping entirely. Luckily, there wasn’t much slack on his line, so he didn’t drop very far. He dangled directly beside me, gripping onto the rope that kept him suspended for dear life. “Next time, we’re going to a fashion show. No risk of falling there.”

  “If you don’t count runway models tripping off the stage.”

  “That rarely happens. At the very least, there’d be no risk to us.”

  Our spotters down on the floor, which was covered in spongey, yet firm safety foam, helped us work our way down. Oliver looked like he was about ready to kiss the ground, thankful to have steady footing.

  “So, what are you going to do tomorrow?” he asked once he was out of his harness. “What’s the big plan?”

  “I already told you. I’m going to kiss her under the mistletoe at midnight.”

  “Yes, I got that. But how are you going to get into the palace, sneak past her guards, lure Marina to the exact spot, and then kiss her?”

  I shook my head. “I, uh… I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

  Oliver squinted his eyes at me. “You know, for the smartest guy that I know, you’re really stupid.”

  “I shudder to think what everybody else you know is like.”

  “Ha ha,” he said dryly. “You’re hilarious. Are you sure this is all even worth it? What if she says no? More importantly, what if her family says no?”

  I paused for a moment, turning his questions over and over again in my head. The wait that I’d endured the last twelve days had been grueling. Had it not been for the fact that some of the poorer house attendants were so easy to bribe, my private messages to Marina might never have been delivered. It was an elaborate, borderline crazy plan where things could go wrong at every turn. The royal guards could find the letters I’d left her and deem them suspicious, effectively placing Marina under lockdown. The house attendant I’d been paying handsomely could decide to pocket the cash I paid them and simply say my messages were delivered. This plan was complicated. This plan was expensive.

  “Marina’s worth it,” I said firmly. “I never stopped thinking about her, Oliver. I was always daydreaming about her in class.”

  “No wonder your grades were so shitty.”

  I chuckled. “You take that back.”

  “What if she says no, Rodrigo? What if she’s freaked out by all of this?”

  “You’ve been visiting her frequently to talk about that charity clothes drive, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell me, has the Princess been acting any differently to you?”

  Oliver tilted his head to the side and brought a finger up to his chin. “She’s been humming a lot. And blushing a lot. And laughing to herself a lot. I just thought she was starting to go crazy, being all cooped up in the palace.”

  I swallowed, my hopes reaffirmed by Oliver’s observations. “I’ve always loved her spirit. She’s funny, she’s smart, and she’s gentle and kind. But she’s also vulnerable and insecure. That’s why she loves her books so much.”

  Oliver nodded. “I never catch her without a novel.”

  I smiled. “She used to tell me that all she wanted to do was fill her head with pretty words and pretty pictures so that she could share them with the rest of the world.”

  “She inspires you,” he realized.

  “She really does. When I was a boy, I’d always get so jealous when other princes or princesses would come to visit at the palace. I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt like she was way out of my league, both as a friend and as a crush. One of the princes even told me as much. But Marina stood up for me when everybody else wanted to tear me down. And now she’s invested in multiple charities, always wants to help others. How can I not love a woman like that? I want to make a difference in the world too. I just don’t know how yet. But if I can win her over, if I can have her by my side–”

  Oliver laughed. “Okay, okay. I get it, lover boy. I’m not arguing with you. Princess Marina really is a catch.”

  I smiled fondly. “I like to think so, anyway.”

  Oliver sucked in a breath through his teeth and nodded slowly at me. “I hope things go well for you. I’m in your corner.”

  “Thanks, Oli. That means a lot.”

  He threw me a cheeky wink. “And for what it’s worth, you’re not out of her league. You’ve got a cute ass, a handsome smile, and a good heart. The Princess would be a fool to turn you down.”

  Oliver turned and started toward the changerooms. Our time on the rock-climbing wall was over in about two minutes, so there was no harm in heading out early. I followed him, a little pep in my step.

  “You think my ass is cute?” I laughed.

  “Oh, shut up and get ready for tomorrow, stupid.”

  “It’s okay if you do. I promise not to tell your new boyfriend.”

  “You know what? I hope you get caught.”

  I placed a hand over my wounded heart and pretended to pout. “I thought we were friends.”

  8
/>   Marina

  Christmas Eve.

  I should already be in the main hall with Father and Mother. The final party the palace had planned was the biggest and grandest of them all. An exchange of presents had been arranged, delicious food and drinks were going to be served, and there’d be nothing but feelings of joy and merriment filling the air.

  And yet I was nervous. Worse than nervous, I kind of felt sick. But in a good way, if that made any sense at all. I’d pretty much paced a hole into the floor of my suite’s living room, grooving out a little dent with the friction of my feet alone. The butterflies in my stomach were flying around like crazy, threatening to burst right out of me. I couldn’t stop shivering even though my room was perfectly warm, lit by the calm fire flickering about the stone mantel a couple feet away from the coffee table. These were good shivers, though. Electric ones, the kind that told me something fantastic was going to happen. I could barely stand the anticipation. I so badly wanted the second hand on the clock to speed up, wanted it to skip around the clock’s surface and fast forward me to midnight.

  I held the final letter from my knight in my hands, reading it over and over again like some sort of prayer to be memorized. I will see you under the mistletoe tonight.

  Lying on the coffee table, I’d sorted every single one of his letters out over the tempered glass, arranging them in the order they’d arrived. I always found a new letter waiting for me every evening before I went to bed, red envelope sitting elegantly on my pillow. I had to wonder if the knight hired one of the maids to deliver these messages to me. Maybe he was one of the hundreds of house attendants the palace kept in its employ. As far as theories went, it was the best one I had to explain how well he seemed to know the palace’s layout, as well as have access to my room to deliver his letters.

  I wracked my brain trying to figure out who it was. Which one of the palace’s employees could be my mystery man? Which one of them secretly knew how to dance? Which one of them had a striking jawline and dazzling smile? Why had I never noticed them before?

  I took a seat next to the coffee table and let out a shaky breath, reading every single message again in an attempt to keep my mind from spiraling into a million more questions.

  I look forward to kissing your lips again. Thirteen days.

  Your smile is sweeter than sunshine. I hope to see it again in Twelve days.

  If you could run away to any place in the world, where would that be? Can I tag along? Eleven more days.

  The only thing prettier than roses is you. Count backward from ten.

  The moon tonight is beautiful. Look at it and think of me. Only nine more days.

  I can’t get the thought of your lips out of my head. Do you drive all men this insane? Eight days, Princess Marina.

  Do you think about me as much as I think about you? Seven days left!

  I have half a mind to come see you before the countdown’s over. I can’t take another six days.

  Has anyone ever told you how gracefully you move when you dance? Maybe you can teach me a thing or two. Five days remaining.

  Your eyes remind me of stars, but that isn’t quite right. They’re even brighter, more brilliant. Four days until we meet again.

  Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are? I’ll tell you in person in three days.

  I’d heard your clothing drive for the deserving has been a huge success. If nobody’s told you already, you really are the epitome of a generous soul. Two days left!

  I hope you have sweet dreams, Princess. I also hope they’re of me. One day stands between us.

  I glanced down at the final letter in my hand. My heart squealed so loudly with glee that it had the rest of my insides dancing about with excitement. I never thought the day would come. I was finally going to see my white knight again. And this time, I was going to make sure his true identity didn’t escape me. I desperately needed to know the man beneath the costume. I wanted to study every inch of his face, run my hands over his hard muscles, and commit his chiseled form to memory. Never in my life had I been more nervous. I didn’t exactly know where my white knight intended to meet me, but I was sure that if I wandered about the party area, he’d find me without fail.

  This party was smaller than the annual Midnight Magic Ball, but it was just as glamorous an affair. There were even more presents beneath the thirty-foot pine tree, practically swallowing up the majority of space beneath it. Everything was elegantly gift-wrapped in shimmering wrapping paper and decorated with soft silk bows of various colors. The whole hall smelled of cinnamon and peppermint, as well as the sweet wood burning in the massive fireplace. There were tall and strong iron bars before the fire to avoid having any of the little ones—some of the children of the house attendants—from accidentally harming themselves.

  It was nice to see everyone here with their family members. I spent the greater part of my day concerned with my own thoughts that I sometimes forgot that everybody who worked for my family had their own lives after hours. They had wives and husbands and children that they cared for, loved with all their hearts. I loved the holiday season so much because it brought everybody together. In this room, royalty rubbed elbows with the commoners without worry of reputation or formalities. It was a time to get together, to share joy with our neighbors.

  And rub elbows I did.

  I greeted everybody eagerly, trying to determine if my knight was already here. Could he be one of the gardeners that I was shaking hands with? No, their hands were rougher than my secret admirer. The knight’s hands were big and strong, supportive but not harsh. Could it be one of the royal guards by the display of gingerbread houses along the windowsills? It would explain the knight’s knowledge of the palace, and it would also explain how he’d managed to sneak me letters without getting caught. I studied their faces but was left disappointed. My knight had a strong, distinct jawline and mesmerizing lips. I thought for sure that I’d recognize him by the shape of his mouth alone. None of these men seemed to match.

  Slightly discouraged that I hadn’t found him yet, I eventually made my way over to Mother and Father, who were seated next to the tree handing out gifts to the little ones. The wide smiles they wore and the giddy laughter they gave warmed my heart. I really did feel blessed around this time of year. Nothing made me happier than to see others carefree and merry. The looks on everyone’s faces when they opened their gifts filled me with pure delight.

  Brandon was sitting next to a couple of the other kitchen staff, sipping from a cup of eggnog. He was still dressed in his chef’s uniform, the sleeves of his jacket rolled up to his elbows. If I had to venture a guess, Brandon had probably been working overtime to prepare the party’s elaborate desserts. I liked that about him. He was always so hardworking, so dependable. Things had been kind of awkward ever since the cocktail party. I reacted poorly to him telling Rodrigo to get lost and was sour for the rest of the evening. We hadn’t spoken much since then, mainly because we were both too busy, and I was worried about how awkward things were. But this was Christmas Eve. I wanted the past to be in the past, welcome in the new year with nothing but goodwill and friendship.

  “Hey,” I said, sidling up to him.

  “Hey,” he said casually, though he straightened his back a little in my presence.

  “I’m sorry about the other night. I wanted to apologize sooner.”

  Brandon smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I was out of line.”

  I smiled back at him. Just like that, the uneasy air surrounding us dissipated. Out of the corner of my eye, I happened to see a tiny box hidden in the palm of Brandon’s hand.

  “What do you have there?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said way too quickly.

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Nothing?”

  He sighed in defeat, knowing full-well I could order him to show me. He opened his palm and revealed the little box someone had gifted to him. It was ornate—much too fancy for a staff C
hristmas present from Father. The little box was made of dark blue velvet, a line of crystals down the center of its lid. Brandon opened it and revealed a pair of diamond-encrusted cufflinks in the shapes of tiny éclairs. It wasn’t Brandon’s style at all, but he still grinned foolishly at the little things, appreciative of the thought that went into the gift.

  “It’s from Oliver, isn’t it?” I guessed.

  Brandon cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. He saw a picture of us entering the holiday cocktail party online. He said they’d go nice with my suit.”

  I leaned into Brandon, winking an eye at him. “You two are really cute.”

  “I feel kind of bad. I didn’t get him anything.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I suggested, “Bring him a box of chocolate éclairs tomorrow.”

  “You think that’s a good idea?”

  “Trust me. I think Oliver would love it.”

  “Maybe,” he mumbled, sheepishly casting his eyes to the floor. “Maybe I will.”

  I exhaled slowly, staring at the dancing flames of the orange fire. Its heat radiated out, warmed my cheeks and the tip of my nose. It was honestly hard to stay awake with how perfectly at peace I felt here. I willed my mind to stay sharp, to keep a lookout for my knight when he finally arrived. But it was getting later and later, the soft mumble of people’s talking pulling me closer and closer toward sleep. I kept an eye on the mistletoe that was hanging from the doorway that led into the hall, but I’d failed to find anyone resembling even a fraction of my mystery man.

  I tried not to let the creeping disappointment dampen my mood, but it was tough. I’d been looking forward to seeing him again for two weeks. A quick glance at the elegant grandfather clock next to the tree told me it was five minutes past midnight.

  My knight was late.

  I shook my head free of the thought. Maybe he was waiting until there were fewer people at the party. Maybe he’d gotten lost somewhere in the dim halls of the palace? Perhaps I was the one who was supposed to go out searching for him.