To Steal a Prince

by Cora Caraway

  “Even then?” Around us, couples dance much too fast.

  “Especially then. I couldn’t tell you though, because that’s crazy, isn’t it? Love at first sight?”

  “More like love at first crash.”

  Damon pulls me close. Gazing into his eyes, I can barely contain my joy. Happiness must be emanating from me, bright and warm like the lights all around us. We’re surrounded by dancers, but it feels like we’re the only people in the world tonight. The prince cups my cheek with one hand, and draws me to him with the other. His lips are cool as he kisses my forehead.

  I look up at him, trying to tempt him with my lips. “How about a real kiss?”

  “Not quite yet. The moment’s not perfect.”

  I pretend to pout. “What will make it perfect?”

  He bows. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” Damon wends his way through the crowd. I watch him leave the hall, tingling with anticipation. What could he have in store?

  To my left, someone lets out a startled cry. Couples move erratically as they try to avoid collisions. A curving feather marks the culprit. Natalia carves her way across the dance floor, not caring about the disruption she causes. She sidles up to me, disregarding the angry glances thrown her way.

  I turn so that she can’t see the rose. She’s no longer wearing hers. I wonder if she discarded it.

  Turning up her nose, she looks in the direction Damon went. “The prince never abandons his partner, yet he’s left you in the middle of a dance. What did you say?”

  I decide to tell the truth. “I asked for a kiss.”

  Natalia’s laugh is cold and harsh. “You can’t expect him to kiss just anyone. Why do you think he’d be interested in someone like you?”

  I shrug.

  “Novice mistake. You had your chance, so step aside.” She pulls out her fan. “I suppose I should thank you for the favor. Now that he’s seen the dearth of alternative prospects, he’ll come crawling back to me.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Luck has nothing to do with it.” She fans herself so rapidly that I hope she gets carpal tunnel. “He’s coming back. How do I look?”

  But I’ve lost interest in her. The dancers step around the prince, and Damon makes his way back to me. As he gets closer, I realize why he left. The change is subtle, but I can’t miss it. He’s exchanged his gold mask and tie for bronze ones.

  Grabbing his tie, I reel him in. “Where’d you get those?”

  “I set spares aside in the cloakroom, just in case. You’re mine, Grace. And I’m yours. I don’t want there to be any confusion about that fact.”

  He picks me up, spinning me around. It’s so unexpectedly playful that I laugh, stretching my arms out like an airplane. From the corner of my eye, I catch Natalia skulking away. Good. At least she has the decency not to ruin this moment. I should be getting a kiss any second now.

  Damon sets me down, gazing into my eyes. This is it. Perfect.

  The music stops on a discordant note.

  “What’s going on?” The prince frowns. “The waltz wasn’t over.”

  “It is now.” Marc steps into the circle with us. He hasn’t bothered with a mask, so he seems out of place.

  All around, the dancers haltingly stop. They look at the center of the floor, trying to decipher the meaning of this interruption.

  Marc doesn’t mince words. “I have the crown.”

  “Which crown?” Damon asks.

  “The one you’ve tried so hard, yet so ineffectually, to protect.”

  I step toward him, but Damon puts a hand on my arm.

  “He’s my brother. Let me handle it.”

  “We’re dealing with a thief. That’s kind of my thing.”

  Marc lets out a nasty laugh. “Who says I stole it? There are other means to acquire precious objects.”

  “Can we at least do this somewhere private?” Damon asks. “I don’t want to ruin the ball.”

  “We can’t have that, can we?” Marc smirks. “They came here for a show. Let them look.”

  I need to end this now, before Marc embarrasses the family any further. “All right, then. How did you acquire it?”

  “You should know.” His smirk shifts into an evil grin. “You sold it to me.”

  It feels like I’ve been doused with ice water. “What?”

  “Not two hours ago. You wanted a payout before you left the palace, didn’t you?”

  I do my best to stare him down. “I wasn’t in the palace two hours ago. I have witnesses.” I wonder where the king is, or the Palace Guard. Shouldn’t they be putting a stop to this?

  “No matter.” Marc reaches into his jacket. “I still have this.”

  The crowd gasps as he holds up the crown. It glitters dully in his hand.

  “That’s not yours to take,” Damon says, his voice harsh. “Hand it over.”

  “Or don’t bother.” I shrug. “Seeing as it’s fake.”

  Marc whips around. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Feel for yourself. It’s made of heavy plastic. You could probably snap it if you tried.”

  “I don’t believe you!” Marc holds the crown close to him. “I overhead your plan. Great job keeping it quiet, by the way.”

  “Wait…” I raise a hand to my mouth. “You broke into the Jewel Room? It’s impregnable.”

  “Only if you play by the rules.”

  I let my shoulders slump. “How did you do it?”

  “I knew you were lying,” Marc crows. “That’s why you don’t cross your betters. Breaking in isn’t hard when you’re willing to cross lines, say, show a guard a video of his children walking home from school.”

  “Bastard,” Damon growls.

  “You wouldn’t be so complacent if you could think outside the box. Most people don’t like when their families are threatened. Not that you would mind, would you, Brother? You’ve never cared much for me.”

  Damon grits his teeth. “That’s because you’re always pulling stunts like this. What do you want? Money? Haven’t you taken enough of that already?”

  Marc points to me, making my blood run cold. “I want her. Give her to me or I’ll have it melted down.”

  “Her heart’s not mine to give.” Damon stands beside me, firmly clasping my hand. “Do what you will. Grace is more important than a hunk of jewels and metal.”

  I clutch his hand to keep tears from forming. I know how much this crown means to him.

  “Then send her away. I won’t let you have both.” Marc raises the crown above his head, threatening to destroy it.

  “Never.”

  “Have it your way.” Marc hurls the crown against the floor. The main stone takes the brunt of the fall, shattering into a thousand pieces.

  Damon’s grip spasms. “It looks like your bluff failed.”

  “When I told him the crown wasn’t real?” I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “That wasn’t a bluff.”

  He stares at me. “But I saw you put the crown in the vault.”

  “I put a crown in the vault. But not the real one. I switched them.”

  “When?” His brow furrows.

  “When I was explaining the shell game.”

  The prince looks thoroughly confused. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “For insurance purposes. Haven’t you heard the saying? ‘Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.’ It’s always safer if only one person knows the whole plan.” I look at Marc, triumphant. I’m not going to let him ruin this day. “A word of advice,” I tell him. “Don’t try the same con twice on the same mark—especially when it failed the first time.”

  Marc glowers at me. “You’ll regret this. I promise!”

  A man steps out of the crowd behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me, Father!” Slapping the hand away, Marc runs from the hall.

  Nic appears at Damon’s side, ready to give chase.

  “Please,” says a woman in a silver mask. “Let him go.”<
br />
  Darius nods, taking his wife’s hand. Nic stands down, but he glares at Marc’s retreating back.

  The king nudges a piece of plastic with his boot. “Let’s get someone to clean this up.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Sire.” Eris bends down, broom and dustpan in hand. How did she get those so quickly?

  “Very good. Now, let’s have some music. I don’t recall the party ending.” All it takes is one look from the king for the musicians to pick up where they left off. Around us, the dancers dutifully follow suit.

  Darius stands next to me, hands clasped behind his back. He surveys the dance floor, looking for all the world like his only concern is his guests’ enjoyment. “This is all on you now,” he growls in my ear. “Prove to me the crown is safe.”

  Reaching out, Damon grasps my hand. “We’ll show you, Father. Together.”

  We slip from the ballroom. Nic leads, insisting that he provide security. No one argues with him. The main hall is empty as we march up the first flight of stairs.

  “We disable the main floor elevator for large events,” Nic explains. “We’ve had too many nosy guests over the years.”

  We take the elevator up the rest of the way, riding in uncomfortable silence. Before long, our group stands outside the lion-carved door. Damon lets us in.

  The king walks briskly to the wall safe. “It’s in here, isn’t it? At least you didn’t totally lose your senses.” He raps against the wall. “Open it.”

  Damon obliges him. I look away as he enters the combination. My face already burns knowing what he’ll find inside.

  The heavy door swings open. Damon reaches in, then pauses.

  “What is it?” Darius asks sharply.

  “It’s … nothing.”

  “Show me,” Darius barks.

  Slowly, Damon retrieves the black lace panties. Turning to show us, he gives me a sideways glance.

  Darius clears his throat impatiently. “Are you keeping anything useful in there?”

  I’d like to argue that black panties can be incredibly useful, but now doesn’t seem like the time.

  At last, Damon withdraws the crown. Darius takes it immediately, not bothering to ask for permission. He hefts the crown, and inspects the glistening central stone. Satisfied, he lets out a long breath.

  The king studies me. “It seems we owe you a great debt.” Buttoning his jacket, he sweeps his gaze over us. “I’d suggest that we get back to the dance.”

  “Sire?” I lower my mask, though I wish I could hide behind it. “If I may ask, what do you plan to do to Marc?”

  “I’ll talk to him.” The king looks like he’s bitten into something sour.

  “Talk? That’s it?”

  Darius fixes me with his gaze, as if daring me to challenge him. “He didn’t destroy the real crown.”

  “But he had every intention of doing so.” I clench my hands into fists. “He can’t get away with this!”

  “Do you wish for me to throw him in jail? To expel him from the city? Do you want me to implement harsher crimes for stealing and destroying valuables?”

  I gulp uncomfortably.

  “That’s what I thought. I cannot make exceptions for you, then lay down the law for Marc. Keep that in mind the next time something shiny catches your eye.” The king turns on his heel. “Damon, put that thing away. We’ll discuss increased security measures at a more appropriate time. Nic, escort me back to the ballroom.”

  The bodyguard follows him from the room, bowing as he shuts the door behind them.

  I turn to Damon. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault Marc’s getting away.”

  “The crown is safe because of you.” As if to prove his point, Damon sets it behind the steel door, spinning the combination knob. “What’s there to be sorry for? Except that we’re missing the ball…”

  “But I also broke into your safe, even if it was for a stupid reason. I want to apologize for that, too. And I promise never to steal from you again.” I hang my head, too ashamed to meet his eyes. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

  He holds out a hand. “Dance with me.”

  We descend the spiral staircase arm in arm. By the time we reach the last landing, a crowd has formed. They must have wandered from the dance floor, curious to find out where the prince had gone. Some whisper behind their hands, while others openly point. I feel their eyes on me, but I forget them when I turn to look into Damon’s. His smile gives me a sense of calm.

  “Are you ready?” he asks. “Now’s as good a time as any to introduce you.”

  “All right,” I whisper.

  We pause before the final set of stairs. Damon raises a hand, and the crowd quiets instantly.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, I am honored to introduce Lady Grace Sparrow of California.”

  Miraculously, I remember the correct curtsey to use. I sink down, holding one side of my skirt. Feeling brave, I tear my eyes away from the steps. What I see stuns me.

  Below, the crowd is quiet. All the men are bowing, and all the women curtsey deeply to me. It feels like they’re welcoming me, accepting me into their ranks as one of their own. It’s most likely an ordinary gesture to them, but it fills me with warmth. Tears prick at my eyes, threatening to spill over.

  I rise, and we descend the last of the stairs as the crowd applauds. With Damon’s arm to hold, I don’t stumble once. At the bottom, the crowd converges on us. Men want to kiss my hand, and women kiss my cheeks. It’s overwhelming, but in a good way. I’m not terrified of them anymore. I greet as many as I can, trying to put names to the multitude of faces.

  “Please excuse us,” Damon says. “Grace owes me a dance.”

  The crowd follows us into the ballroom. The dance floor is sparse, but a few couples are soldiering on. Among them is Gabe, along with the man in the purple mask.

  He bows when he sees me, his purple tie fluttering. “Thank you for introducing me to Gabe, Lady Sparrow.”

  I stare at him, openmouthed. “Rashad?”

  He grins. “Who else, my lady? Your roommate is … very fiery.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to her.” Gabe spins Rashad around him. “Let’s dance.”

  He doesn’t need to suggest it twice. The couple leaps away, dancing to a song that no one else can hear.

  The musicians begin a slow, sweet waltz. Couples form from the crowd, surging onto the dance floor. Damon takes my hand, leading me to the quiet center. Dancers give us a wide berth, letting us have our private patch of floor.

  Moonlight shines through the windows, making the vines reflect silver. I look deep into Damon’s eyes as we leisurely revolve around each other. How could I have ever considered leaving this place? I’ve come to realize that the best place in the world is right here in his arms. I’ll never find anywhere better. There’s music and laughter and light all around, and pretty women in beautiful dresses, but he only has eyes for me. I could dance with him forever.

  I stand on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “How’s this moment?”

  He pulls me close for the sweetest kiss of my life.

  15

  I cling to Damon’s waist as the wind whips back my hair. He turns the wheel, and his sleek boat responds instantly. Sea spray flies up from the bow, reaching us as a light mist. I grin, reveling in the salty air. It feels like we’re flying.

  “You don’t have to stay down here if you don’t want to,” Damon says. “There’s a saltwater pool on the top deck if you’d prefer.”

  “Let me get this straight. You have a saltwater pool on your yacht?”

  “Yes?”

  “The yacht currently at sea, where you could jump over the side to swim in saltwater?”

  “But the pool can turn into a hot tub.”

  I shake my head. “I should have known.” Wrapping my arms more tightly around him, I let him know that I’m not leaving. After days of entertaining countless nobles, we finally have some time to ourselves. Damon even
convinced Nic to stay behind for this venture, though I’m not sure how.

  The prince shades his eyes against the sun’s glare. “We’re almost there. I’m glad the water’s calm today.”

  We set out at sunrise, churning the glassy green water white in our wake. A pod of porpoises followed us for a while, hoping for a handout. They veered away when it became clear that we weren’t going to fish.

  I’ve been pestering Damon all morning, but he won’t tell me where we’re going. Maybe he doesn’t realize that not everyone loves surprises as much as he does. It’s not like I’m expecting any grand romantic gestures, I just want to be mentally prepared in the event that he’s planning to pop over to Greece or something.

  “Do you want to steer?” Damon asks.

  I look at the wheel nervously. The prince has been going on and on about how great it is that his boat only requires one person to operate it, and that he can sail alone without any crew, but that means that there’s no one to rescue us if I crash into a sandbar.

  “Don’t be nervous. We’re going in a straight line. Just keep this heading.” He puts my hands on the wheel, helping me guide the ship. Together we cut through the waves. We’re soaring, with nothing to stop us.

  A knot forms in my stomach. As beautiful as the ball was, there’s still a lot that could stop us. Damon’s father still doesn’t approve of me, even though I saved the crown. Marc is still perfectly capable of causing trouble. Natalia disappeared before the last dance, but she hasn’t given up on snaring Damon. She’s just biding her time.

  I twitch, jerking the wheel harder than I meant to.

  “Whoa!” Damon lurches to one side. “Are you okay?”

  I grip the wheel until my knuckles turn white, forcing myself to keep calm. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not. Relax, Grace. I’ll take the wheel.”

  Damon puts his arms around me, but I feel like a failure. I can’t even keep the boat straight.

  The prince rests his chin on my shoulder. “I was going to give you this later, but now’s as good a time as any.”

  I whirl around as he holds up the alexandrite pendant.