I clenched my fists into tight balls. The mounting pressure behind my eyes was excruciating. My molars were clenched so tight I could hear them squeaking against each other in my skull. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to look her in the eye after everything that’d happened. Her father, the King, was hurt because of mine. Whose side was I supposed to take? Where were my loyalties supposed to lie?
This wasn’t my fault. None of this was fair. Marina and I couldn’t be happy because of our parents and their own twisted, confusing, stupid issues. But why did we have to suffer because of them? Why did being together have to be an impossibility because of our parents? I wanted nothing more than to make her happy, to give her everything that I possibly could. How was that so wrong?
My mother cupped my face, tilting her head up to look directly into my eyes. “We need to leave, Rodrigo. We can’t stay here. If we’re behind bars, there’s nothing we can do for your father. I’m taking you to Allendes. Once we’re there, you’ll enroll in law school and come back to help him.”
“But I–”
“You’ll never amount to anything here. Don’t you want to help people? You’ve seen how disenfranchised the people of Brooklandia are. Come back when you’re a lawyer, when you’re in a position to do good. Maybe you’ll be able to finish your father’s work once and for all. But you can’t do that if you’re rotting in jail for having an affair with the Princess.”
I couldn’t think straight. This was too much information to process all at once. The lights of the apartment seemed brighter than usual, blinding and overbearing. I felt incredibly hot beneath the thin layer of my blue windbreaker, my skin seconds away from melting right off my skeleton. The inside of my nose burned with the smell of sweat lifting off the dry air. The muscles in my neck were so taut that I was afraid my skull would snap right off.
Right and wrong were suddenly confusing concepts. I didn’t know who to blame, who to be upset with. Deep down, I wanted to be furious at my mother and father. Because of them, Marina and I couldn’t stand a chance. But sitting on the surface was a burning rage for the King. He’d imprisoned my father, locked him away God knew where. As stern and strict as Father was, I still loved him with every fiber of my being. I loved my mother too. The thought of her in jail left the acid in my stomach bubbling over.
It was too late for Father. But I could still help Mother escape.
As for Marina, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I knew I couldn’t stay here any longer, though. Every second I hesitated meant a second in the Royal Guard’s favor.
Sucking in a sharp breath through my front teeth, I nodded.
“Okay,” I rasped. “Let’s go.”
Taking the train was an interesting choice on my mother’s part. It would have been far faster to take a plane. Though, in her defense, the security would have been much tighter. By the time we arrived at the station, the news of Father’s failed rebellion and attack against the Crown was already the topic of hot gossip and heated debate.
“Senator Sabatino’s lost it,” I heard someone whisper.
“They say he managed to rally over a thousand people to support his cause.”
“This is going to spread across the kingdom.”
“You think?”
“Of course! The King’s so unpopular. Just because this revolt failed, that doesn’t mean the people have lost just yet. I think they’ll be emboldened to make another move like this.”
“What happened to the rest of the Royal Family?”
“I heard the Queen and the Princess are in hiding.”
“As they should be. I bet they’re terrified.”
I kept incredibly still, afraid that any sudden movement on my part would make me lose control. I wanted to ask if Marina was alright, if she’d been hurt during the fiasco. I wanted so desperately to call her, but I didn’t have her number—for security purposes, she’d said.
I was sitting on a wooden bench, a wool scarf wrapped around my neck and the lower half of my face to disguise myself. Mother and I managed to make it past the checkpoint without raising any alarms. The King hadn’t issued a warrant for Mother’s arrest yet, which meant we still had plenty of time to flee the country. Nevertheless, I was restless. The hundreds of questions racing through my mind wouldn’t give me a second of respite.
“Where’s the train?” I asked, probably for the third time that hour. “It’s late. It should be here.”
Mother patted me on the shoulder, pulling my scarf up a bit higher to conceal my face as a group of travelers passed us by. She’d obscured her own visage with large darkened sunglasses, a scarf of her own, and a black baseball cap to cover her hair. Never in my life did I believe I’d see her wear something so casual. Mother blended in well with the crowd, though. I supposed was all that mattered.
“A flight would have been faster,” I mumbled.
“This was the best I could do on such short notice,” she quipped. “I have an old friend who works as a conductor. These were the last seats to Allendes.”
I cringed. “How much did it cost you?”
“An arm and a leg. Try not to think about it. All you need to worry about is getting across the border in one piece.”
My phone suddenly started to ring in my pocket. I jumped in my seat, startled.
“Who is it?” demanded my mother, an edge of concern in her words.
I checked the caller ID. “It’s just Oliver.”
“What does he want? Don’t answer. He could be working for the King. He might try to expose our location.”
I shook my head, dismissing her concerns. “Oliver wouldn’t do that.”
“I swear to God, Rodrigo, if you answer that call–”
I turned away and answered. “Hello?”
“Thank goodness!” Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve been worried sick. What the hell is going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Oli. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry? Don’t you dare tell me not to worry! Everything’s a shit show. Brandon’s been hurt, and I can’t reach him because the palace is on lockdown and–”
“What happened to Brandon? Is he going to be alright?”
Oliver let out a shaky breath. His voice sounded scratchy, like he’d been crying. The cheerful, funny, overly dramatic friend I knew was gone, replaced with someone full of anxiety and doubt.
The attackers—I don’t know what to call them really—they came in through the bottom floors nearest to the kitchens. He was in the middle of work, and he–” Oliver choked up. He sounded like he was about to break. “He got caught up in the middle of it. Brandon managed to call me, but he… God, he sounded horrible.”
“I’m so sorry, Oliver. I’m so sorry.”
Oliver started to sob. “I don’t know whether to be angry at you or scared for you.”
“Oli, I need you to take a deep breath. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
“Where are you?”
“I… I can’t tell you that.”
“Why do I have the feeling you’re about to do something stupid?”
“You always have the feeling that I’m going to do something stupid.”
“Do I sound like I’m joking right now?”
I allowed my shoulders to slump, defeated. “No. No, you don’t.”
“You’re leaving,” he realized, a cold and brutal clarity to his tone.
“I am.”
“What about Marina? She’ll be so worried about you.”
“It’s… It’s better this way.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” he screamed over the phone. His shrill words pierced right through my eardrum to leave it ringing. “Are you insane? You can’t just leave her!”
“I don’t want to, but I have no choice.”
“Of course you have a choice, Rodrigo. Don’t be stupid. You’re going to break her heart.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I frowned in thought. “I’ll be back,” I promised. “I’ll
be back one day. I just… Can you please tell her to wait for me?”
Oliver sighed exasperatedly. “Why am I always the messenger?”
“Because you love us.”
For a moment, he was silent. I honestly thought the call had dropped. Oliver eventually clicked his tongue and groaned. “Yeah, alright. You got me there. What do you want me to tell her?”
“Tell her… Tell her that I’ll be back. Tell her that I’m serious about her, and I’ll be thinking about her every single day until I can find a way for us to be together. Tell her not to give up on me, and that I’m sorry that this is happening. Please let her know that I’m sorry for what happened to her father.”
“Anything else? Do you want to throw the L-word in while you’re at it?”
“I’ll tell her I love her when I get to see her next.”
“You two are tragically adorable, you know that?”
“Take care of yourself, Oli. I promise to reach out the second things have settled on my end.”
“Okay. Be safe, Rodrigo. And I swear to God, if you don’t come back like you promise, I will kill you. These hands are meant for sewing, but I will defile them if you break her heart. You hear me?”
“I’ll be back, Oli. I will, I promise.”
I hung up the phone and promptly stuffed the device in my pocket, more than a little aware of the way Mother was staring out of the corner of her eye. Her expression was blank, unreadable.
“You love her?” she whispered. She sounded uncharacteristically soft and understanding.
I nibbled on my bottom lip as I stared down at my boots on the cold stone tiles of the train station platform. The sharp, high-pitched whistle of an oncoming train—the one that would take Mother and I to safety—ripped through the cold air. I didn’t want to look at it. This train was going to take me away, create miles upon miles of distance between me and Marina. My heart ached. It would have just been easier to tear it out of my chest with my bare hands.
“I do,” I mumbled bitterly to myself as the train chugged into the station.
Mother didn’t say anything. She simply rose from her seat, boarding tickets in hand, the slightest twinge of regret weighing down her cold, blue eyes.
14
Marina
Eight Months Later
I thought time would make things easier.
It didn’t.
Everything started to look grey. My books no longer held my interest. The sweets Brandon would bake up for me were good, but I didn’t find myself craving them anymore. Oliver’s jokes and good humor did little to put me in a better mood.
Things just weren’t the same without Rodrigo.
At first, I thought I could get over him. There was no telling if he’d ever return to Brooklandia after the attack. I didn’t believe what the press was saying, not even for a second. They branded him a traitor, a runaway, even though there was no solid evidence that Rodrigo was in any way involved.
Innocent people don’t run to a foreign country, the papers argued.
The rumor mill was running at all hours of the day. Gossip magazines and self-proclaimed ‘journalists’ tried writing exposé pieces on the Sabatinos. Most of them tried to drag Rodrigo and his family through the mud. Most of them succeeded. No matter where I went, I couldn’t escape the slander and hatred, even if it was misinformed and speculative nonsense.
I tried to tune everything and everyone out. I was just so tired all of the time. Tired of the gossip and the rumors and the instability the King was now facing. Senator Sabatino’s rebellion had been a wakeup call for Father. He’d been passive for so long that he genuinely feared a full-scale revolt. While he spent the last couple of months in recovery, he urged his advisors to meet with him at all hours to re-evaluate the kingdom’s policies. The people were finally getting the help they needed.
But at what cost?
Perhaps at the cost of my sanity.
My security detail tripled in size after the attack. Every waking moment, a bodyguard was at my side no matter what. Whether I wanted a little privacy in my library, roaming down the halls, when I went to visit Brandon downstairs in the kitchens—it didn’t matter. Someone was always watching over me.
Breathing down my neck.
I was in the gardens, sitting on a stone bench covered in flat cushions to make it more comfortable. The July heat was almost too much to bear, but I didn’t really mind. I was dressed in a pink blouse and tan shorts, a straw sunhat atop my hat to keep cool. A heavy book sat on my lap, cracked open to the last page I read. My heart wasn’t really in the story. I kept reading the same line over and over again, stuck in a never-ending loop.
Closing my eyes, I breathed in the warm summer air. The scent of roses filled my head, sweet and light and barely there. The royal gardens were known for their prize-winning roses, though none of them could compare to the singular rose Rodrigo gifted me all those months ago.
I still had it in my room, hanging upside down above my work desk to preserve it. The petals were fragile and dry now, the stem a dull brown. Its thorns were as sharp as ever, though. Every time I caught a glimpse of the simple gift, I thought about him. I wondered where he was, what he was doing, who he was talking to.
I wondered if he thought about me.
Rodrigo apparently wanted me to wait, that he’d be back one day. I held out hope that I’d see him again. I waited days, and weeks, and now months. If I was being perfectly honest, I didn’t know how much more my poor, aching heart could take.
My bodyguard cleared his throat, seeking my attention. “Princess Marina?”
“Yes, Charles?”
“There’s someone at the front gates asking for you. An Oliver Smith?”
I raised an eyebrow, curious. “Let him in. You know he’s a friend of mine.”
“I just want to double check, Princess. The King has ordered us to be extra careful when visitors are present.”
“Oliver isn’t a visitor. He’s here so much that he practically lives here. Send him through.”
The bodyguard barked something into the radio that was strapped to his shoulder. A few minutes later, Oliver walked into the royal gardens, a Royal Guard at either side of him.
“Thank you for escorting me, gentlemen,” he said dryly. “Let’s do it again some time.”
The guards, unamused, turned and left Oliver with me. I rose from my bench and wrapped my arms around him, giving him a tight hug.
“It’s been so long!” I sighed. “I’ve been bored out of my mind without you.”
Oliver smiled softly at me. “Likewise, Princess.”
“I’m sorry about the pat down they had to give you. Father insists on checking visitors for weapons.”
“Don’t tell my boyfriend, but I actually kind of enjoyed it.” He winked.
A little laugh bubbled from my lips. It felt good to let go a little. The palace had become incredibly stuffy and suffocating ever since the failed rebellion.
Oliver and I sat. I couldn’t help but notice the way he kept side-eyeing Charles with suspicion. Oliver leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Do you think you can get rid of him? I’ve got something for you?”
“What is it?”
“A gift. From a special someone.”
My heart skipped a beat. I mouthed, Rodrigo?
Oliver nodded.
Getting rid of my personal bodyguard wasn’t going to be easy. He was under strict orders from Father to keep me safe, which incidentally meant hovering around me like a hawk at all hours of the day. All I needed was a few minutes away from him.
I started to cough hard, making a show of wheezing. The sun beating down on my head already left me warm, so it was easy for me to break out into a sweat and my cheeks to flush pink.
Oliver, quick to pick things up, turned to the bodyguard and snapped, “Get the Princess some water! I think she’s got something caught in her throat.”
“R-right away!” Charles hurried away, sprinting back toward the palace.<
br />
Oliver and I held our breath until he was finally out of sight. We burst into a fit of laughter.
“That’s probably the most fun I’ve had in a while,” I admitted.
He reached into his jacket’s inside pocket, pulling out a small envelope and a rose. The petals had been crushed, and the letter was crinkled in the corners.
“Sorry,” he apologized, seemingly reading my mind. “I had to kind of stuff it in or else they’d find it.”
I shook my head, shakily taking the items in my hands. “That’s okay,” I whispered as I dragged my fingers over the edges of the envelope. It was the same kind Rodrigo had used to send me little messages to count down the days we’d meet under the mistletoe.
I swiftly opened the envelope and slipped the cardstock letter out. I inhaled slowly, admiring the loops of his cursive writing.
I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. My mother’s been breathing down my neck.
I chuckled. I knew exactly what that felt like.
I have so much I want to tell you, but there’s not enough paper in the world for me to write it all down.
I’ll be in Evergreen for the rest of the month—it’s summer break here.
I’ve got a private room booked at the Marriott.
Meet me there if you can.
Yours and yours only, R.
I carefully slipped Rodrigo’s message in the back pocket of my shorts, keeping the rose he’d sent me in the palm of my hand. I smiled down at the wilting petals, still enchanted by the flower’s beauty and the symbolism behind it. The poor thing had gone through hell just to get here. Rodrigo was thinking about me, wherever he was hiding. This realization alone left me feeling lighter and calmer than I had in months. Not knowing how he was doing, if he was safe—it had caused me so much more stress than I’d realized. A simple note and a little flower later and I felt refreshed, my worries sloughing away.
Turning to Oliver, I asked, “Do you feel like going on vacation with me?”
“Really? I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5 Page 79
