But as the night dragged on, doubt started to creep in. One by one, people left. Those with children were the first to go home, ready to welcome Santa Clause with a plate of delicious cookies and a refreshing glass of milk. Slowly but surely, the party began to die down, leaving fewer and fewer people to witness my possible kiss under the mistletoe. Father and Mother called it a night. Brandon eventually turned in for the evening as well, wishing me a good night and Merry Christmas before he went.
I sat on a comfortable armchair next to the fire and warmed my feet in front of the flames. The crackling and hiss of burning wood was the only sound that filled my ears as the party officially came to an end. I was all alone in the big banquet hall, waiting for a man who might not show. The thought crossed my mind again and again. Was I being foolish and naïve? Maybe this was all some incredibly elaborate prank. I wasn’t sure what the reasoning behind it was, or why I was even the target if that were the case.
The chimes of the grandfather clock rang, a single deep tone resonating through the air. It was now one in the morning. My knight was an hour late. Maybe he wasn’t coming at all.
I wondered if I should just return to my room. I was getting tired, and I didn’t want to feel like even more of an idiot by waiting yet another hour for someone that wasn’t guaranteed to show. A bite of anger had my stomach churning. Here I was, sitting up well past reasonable hours when he was probably at home, tucked in and comfortable, having completely forgotten about me. I hated to admit it, but I was a little heartbroken. The hope that had been building in my chest in anticipation of our reunion made me feel incredibly stupid. I thought that we had a connection, something special and inexplicable.
But it wasn’t anything real, I realized. It was just a dance. It was just a kiss. That spark I thought was there must have been in my imagination. This was all some cruel joke. And to make matters worse, I let myself believe there was someone out there for me. I wanted to be swept off of my feet so badly that I lost myself in the thrill. This wasn’t how I expected to spend the early hours of Christmas morning. But deep down, I only had myself to blame. High hopes could be a dangerous thing.
I slumped in my seat, tilting my head back against the headrest as my eyes fluttered closed as a heavy sigh escaped my lungs.
Just as quickly as I’d drifted off, I came awake with a bit of a start at the sensation of someone’s warm hand covering mine. My eyes flew open, my vision taking a couple of seconds to adjust to the dim lighting. The moon was big and silver in the night sky, its glowing light streaming in through the hall’s massive windows to paint the interior a soft shade of white. Next to me, someone was crouched at my side, looking up at me with big blue eyes.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, a gentle smile upon his lips. “I had quite the adventure trying to get to you.”
I blinked. And then I blinked again, both confused and dazed.
“Rodrigo?” I whispered in disbelief.
9
Rodrigo
I arrived a little after ten, all dressed up in the delivery boy uniform Oliver whipped up for me earlier that day. It was an easy enough task to pull up references off the Internet, though I was going to owe Oliver my company to at least two fashion shows as repayment. I personally didn’t see the appeal of sitting in a crowded, noisy room to watch gazelle-like models speed past me in clothes I’d never in a million years wear. But I knew I owed Oliver big time for all the help he’d been these last two weeks. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.
Confidently, I walked up toward the doors where a big, burly royal guard frowned down his nose at me. He tossed his chin toward the box in my arms.
“What is it?”
“Ingredients for Chef Bonette,” I said as calmly as I could.
“Food deliveries don’t come this late,” he huffed, shifting in his spot a little. I was genuinely worried that he’d demand I open the box and find out that I was lying. There was nothing inside except air.
I thought quickly. “Special order. Apparently the Chef was running low on maraschino cherries.”
The guard squinted at me. “Why have I never seen you before?”
I swallowed at the dry lump that had lodged itself in my throat and prayed to God I wasn’t about to give myself away. “I’m new. Started yesterday, actually.”
“Where’s your ID?”
The tiny voice in the back of my brain wanted my lips to say, Shit, shit, shit. Luckily, I was easily able to override the panic and reach slowly into the pocket of my pants, pulling out the tiny laminated badge I had Oliver print out for me. There were all sorts of wonderous, borderline scary crafting machines in his studio. A badge maker and laminator just happened to be two of them. I didn’t think it was going to be necessary to show off any fake ID, but it always paid to be prepared.
The guard took the badge in his gorilla-sized hand and looked between me and the picture Oliver had printed. It took him a good ten seconds or so before he was finally satisfied. I held my breath the entire time, heart threatening to explode in my chest. There was no telling what would happen to me if I got caught. If anyone here knew who I really was, I’d be in some serious trouble. It wasn’t like I could come up with a good excuse, either. People were going to assume I was trying to sneak in to do the Royal Family harm. I was a Sabatino, after all. Nobody would believe me if I said I just wanted to see Princess Marina. One mention of her name and they’d probably think I was there to assassinate her or something just as awful.
“Fine,” the guard grunted, tossing me the badge. He extended his hands. “Give it here.”
“I can drop it off for you,” I insisted.
He shook his head. “No. That’s not how we do things, newbie. Only palace employees are allowed inside.”
I mentally kicked myself. This wasn’t how I imagined things going at all. I thought I could gain access through the servant’s doors, find a vacant room to change in, and then sneak down the halls to see Marina. But now this big oaf had thrown a very heavy, very destructive wrench into my plans. I needed to come up with something quick, or else I’d miss Marina entirely.
“Okay,” I said, relinquishing ownership of the parcel.
The guard turned and entered through the servant’s entrance. The door slammed hard behind him, the sound echoing in my mind.
“That could have gone better,” I mumbled to myself.
There was no one in sight, so I took the opportunity to walk around the corner. There was a line of tall, neatly trimmed bushes directly next to a smaller, more discreet door. If my memory served correctly, it led directly into the kitchen. It was an emergency exit, designed to open out only. Maybe if I was lucky, I’d be able to sneak in while one of the kitchen staff snuck out for a smoke break. Marina and I used to hide in this exact spot behind the bushes when we were children, meowing like cats to confuse staffers into believing a stray had wandered onto palace grounds.
I remained crouched, leaning my back against the cold stone wall while sharp branches pricked me in the face. This was a lot easier when I was a boy. Now I just felt ridiculous, all curled up and hunched over. If I didn’t care about Marina and keeping my promise to meet her, I would have called it quits. But the thought of her waiting all by herself was all the motivation I needed to fight the cramp that was burning in my left thigh. My knees popped every time I shifted in position, and I shivered against the dropping temperatures. The sun was a thin line of orange over the horizon, the dark night sky blanketing me with a chill that left my joints stiff, and my muscles freezing.
Inside, I could hear the roar of laughter and lively conversation. Beautiful music drifted out of a cracked window somewhere nearby. Somewhere in that crowd, Marina was waiting for me. Everything had been leading up to this moment. I couldn’t give up now, no matter how cold and sore I was. At some point, someone had to come out through this door. Every other entrance was heavily guarded, and there was no doubt in my mind that the guard who took the parcel realized it had all been a h
oax. The palace’s security team would probably be on high alert, now looking for some man dressed up as a delivery boy.
Someone finally stumbled through the door, gravel crunching under their shaky footing. A maid exited with a chef leaning heavily against her, drunk as a skunk. She had to kick the door open wide to make enough space for the both of them.
“I told you to go easy on the wine,” she grumbled.
“I’m sorry,” he said, hiccupping between his words.
“Stand up straight, Alfred. I can’t do this by myself. Where’d you park your car?”
“Can’t remember.”
The maid groaned in frustration, but continued forward, dragging poor Alfred along with her. She was too distracted by her drunk friend to notice me slip out from behind the bushes, sneaking in through the crack in the door. I made it inside just as it clicked shut again.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. A chill snaked its way down my spine at the sudden change in temperature. It was nice and warm inside the palace. The only obstacle I now had to face was finding my way through its winding halls.
It had been almost ten years since I thoroughly explored the palace. I wasn’t surprised to see that this section was completely different compared to my memories of it. Countless renovation projects and the repurposing of rooms made this place foreign to me. I was a mouse stuck in the middle of a seemingly endless maze. I willed my heart to calm down. All I needed to do was locate a primary hallway. From there, I’d likely be able to orient myself and find my way to Marina.
Very quietly, I tiptoed down the length of the hall, overly conscious of how loud my footsteps were against the frigid tiles. I pulled off the delivery hat and uniform jacket, dressing a marble bust of some historical figure in Brooklandian history that I happened across. I had on a simple button-down shirt made of white cotton. Running a hand through my messy hair, I brushed away the strands that had fallen before my face. I needed to look my best when I finally ran into Marina.
Except that was starting to feel like an incredibly impossible task. No matter how many turns I took, no matter how many steps I ventured, I found myself hopelessly lost. I tried following the sounds of the party, but found myself at a dead end. I backtracked several times, walking through different doors that led me nowhere. On several instances, I had to dart out of sight into a vacant storage room or behind one of the many display pedestals featuring priceless works of sculpted art to avoid royal guards on their patrol.
I didn’t want to think about what they’d do to me if I got caught. I was already risking life behind bars for trespassing. I’d hate for anyone to think I was here to spy on the Royal Family on behalf of my father. That’d land me a lifetime sentence in prison for sure.
I silently cursed myself. How much time had passed? Was it almost midnight? The clock was ticking, and I was still hopelessly lost.
A bitter voice in the back of my head called me a fool. I should have known something like this would happen. I should have figured out an easier way to see Marina. But what other options did I have? There was no possibility of sending an actual invitation. Anything with my family’s name on it would have been thrown in the shredder. And it wasn’t like I could show up directly on the palace’s front steps asking to see Marina. I’d be kicked out the second I showed up.
My frustration was starting to cloud my thoughts. Why did this palace have to be so ridiculously huge? What were all these empty rooms for? What was the point of all this space? Did I just come through here, or was this hall new? If I didn’t find my way soon, I was probably going to starve to death in some abandoned corner of the palace. This place was so vast that it would probably take several years before anyone stumbled upon my shriveled up body.
I shook my head free of the morbid thoughts. It was Christmas Eve, for goodness sake. I needed to stay positive.
I finally made it to a main hallway. I could tell because it was nearly double as wide as the previous corridors, and it was well illuminated by the line of crystal chandeliers hanging from the arched ceilings above. I poked my head around the corner to see if the coast was clear. The sounds of the party had died down almost completely, so I had very little to guide me toward the main banquet hall. Relying solely on my memories of playing tag with Marina in the main wing, I picked up the pace, starting to recognize the area around me.
When I made it to the banquet hall, I paused at the grand archway. There was a sprig of mistletoe taped just above my head, but Marina was nowhere in sight. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. Maybe she gave up. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. When the grandfather clock in the grand hall struck a single tone, its note a deep chime vibrating straight through my chest, I knew I’d failed. I missed my chance.
Marina was probably furious with me. She probably hated my guts. She didn’t know they were my guts specifically, but still. The thought of her waiting for me only for me not to show made my heart twist, made my stomach tie itself into a neat little knot. I should have been faster. I should have planned better. There were a million and one things I could have done to make this go smoother than it had.
Now I was tired and alone and cold. The thought of returning the way I’d came made my nose crinkle in annoyance. I couldn’t just leave through the front gates. I was going to have to sneak out again, and I really wasn’t looking forward to getting lost on my way back out.
Leaning against the archway, I allowed myself a moment’s rest. This was by far the most disappointing Christmas I’d ever had. Scanning the banquet hall, I drank in the details of the decorations. Pieces of wrapping paper littered the floor close to the tree, empty plates of food remained on the service tables—nothing but little crumbs remaining. The fire was still going, but it was starting to die, soft orange flames flickering about calmly as it cast shadows against the marble floor.
It was then, and only then, that I noticed someone sitting in a comfy leather armchair next to the Christmas tree. Their back was to me, and the dim lighting made it difficult to see their face. It was a woman, balled up and leaning to one side, barely awake.
I held my breath, approaching as quiet as a mouse. A rising hope started to bottle up in my chest.
Could it be her? Could it be Marina? Please, let it be Marina.
She was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a lovely green blouse made of silk, gold dangling earrings framing either side of her face. Marina’s eyes were closed, thick and full lashes looking divinely soft. She’d let her hair down, pretty locks of gold pooling over one shoulder. Her knees were tucked against her chest, heels wedged beneath her and the leather of her seat. This was the closest we’d been since the cocktail party, but in my heart, I knew it wasn’t close enough.
She was absolutely mesmerizing to look at. Everything about her screamed elegance and grace, even when she was sound asleep and simply sitting there. I smiled to myself as memories of a hyper, constantly giggling Marina popped into my head. She used to be super energetic, always on the go. Sitting here by the fire, I could really appreciate the beautiful young woman she had become. There was something angelic about her, something otherworldly and ethereal. I felt like I could stare at her sleeping face for hours, drinking in every detail like a man as parched as the desert.
My heart was railing against my rib cage. Marina actually waited for me. Now that the moment to reveal myself was finally here, doubt came crashing down over me. What if she didn’t want to be with me? What if I left her disappointed? What if she wanted nothing to do with me because of all the friction between our families? I needed an answer, but I didn’t know what I’d do if it wasn’t the one I wanted to hear.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d kept her waiting long enough.
Gently, I placed my hand upon hers. Her skin was delightfully soft and warm thanks to the fire. I adored how easily her hand fit in my palm, like they were made for each other.
Marina stirred, opening her eyes slowly. She gazed at me, confusion knotting her brows together. Rea
lization swept across her eyes quickly, her mouth dropping open slightly in surprise.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I whispered. “I had quite the adventure trying to get to you.”
She stared at me a while longer, dazed. I wondered if she thought she was dreaming.
“Rodrigo?” she said so softly I almost didn’t hear it over the crackle of the fireplace.
I grinned. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
She sat up straight, leaning forward. Marina reached out with a hand and grazed the line of my jaw with her fingertips. A brilliant smile crept across her lips. “It was you?”
I nodded. “Yes. Are you surprised?”
“Of course I’m surprised. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
I shrugged a shoulder, glancing away for the briefest moment. “Our families. I was afraid you’d reject me before I even had a chance.”
She shook her head and laughed quietly. Her voice was sweet and high and sounded like music in my ears. It filled my veins with a heat I’d never experienced before, something that made me feel doubly alive and thrilled to be in her presence.
“I wouldn’t have,” she said gently.
“Yeah, well… Your buddy Brandon made me doubt myself.”
Marina carefully ran a hand through my hair before cupping my face in her palms. Her touch left my skull tingling, tiny sparks leaping from her fingers and fizzling between the strands of my hair.
“How did you get in here?” she asked.
“It’s a long story. It might have involved a disguise and getting lost.”
She giggled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled even wider. “How could you get lost?”
I laughed. “Don’t even get me started.”
Marina leaned in as she pulled me close, kissing me directly on the heel of my last word. Our lips slid together perfectly, soft at first, exploratory. I breathed in her scent of sweet vanilla and rich chocolates, feeling fuller and more at ease beneath her touch. She sighed contently, the warmth of her breath tickling my face.
Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5 Page 75
