Jessabelle nodded. “Of course.” Like she would deny the royal great-grandmother a conversation, even if she wondered why the woman would want to talk with her.
Nana Yvette looked up at Prince Malachi. “I like the clean-shaven look, Kai. The nice beard, just a bit longer than scruffy, is a good look for you, too, though.”
Jessabelle hadn’t even noticed he’d shaved his beard. He didn’t always have one, did he?
“I usually only let it grow in the winter or when I’m out of town,” he explained, though she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or his great-grandmother. “A wedding seemed like a place to be clean-shaven.” He winked at Jessabelle. “Plus my mother said I had to.”
He took orders from the queen, too? Of course he did. Someone called for Prince Malachi, and he gave Nana Yvette another kiss on the cheek. Yvette reached out and put one hand on either of Jessabelle’s cheeks. “You will do very nicely, my dear. Don’t let the rest of them, especially my grandson, intimidate you. Remember, you will always, always, be loved.”
Before Jessabelle could respond, Nana Yvette turned and walked away, leaving her to stare. Her grandson? It took a minute for her to realize who Nana Yvette was talking about.
The king.
Don’t let the king intimidate her?
Right. There was a snowball’s chance in the Sahara that he wouldn’t intimidate her.
In fact, he chose that moment to glare at her. Jessabelle glanced around and realized she was the only one left in the room. Swallowing hard, she gathered her skirts and hurried toward the open door and the luncheon she’d give anything not to attend.
* * *
For someone who didn’t like crowds, Malachi thought his bride was holding up remarkably well. Her father chose to sit with the king rather than his daughter. Malachi took it upon himself to order the seating be rearranged. He and his bride were seated with his distant cousins.
Queen Christiana of Ravenzario, the first of his generation to take the throne, brought Jonathan Langley-Cranston, friend of Queen Adeline of Montevaro as her escort. Malachi had heard rumors that Christiana was involved with a gentleman but chose to keep the relationship very private for the moment. His cousins, directly to the south, all brought their significant others. Queen Adeline and her husband, Duke Charlemagne, or Charlie, had been married the summer before, just days before her coronation. Prince Richard, the Montevarian spare, married Charlie’s cousin Ellie on Christmas Eve. And Princess Anastasia sported the engagement ring Dr. Jonah Fontaine had presented her with on Christmas Day.
As he hoped, Addie’s gentle nature drew Jessabelle out of her shell a bit. By the time the luncheon ended, Addie had put her somewhat at ease. Anastasia joined in the conversation quite a bit, but Christiana kept to herself. He’d had a chance to talk with Jonathan, and been invited to visit the other man in the States if they were ever in the area.
Malachi did his best to keep an eye on Christiana, but his attention was divided between his new wife and the rest of the people at the table. He did know the relationship between the countries was strained at the moment, but he wasn’t often consulted on matters of state. All he’d heard were some rumblings of discontent with people who wanted to visit Ravenzario. They had told him some of the details of the investigation into her uncle the year before, but little else.
Malachi glanced toward the table where his father sat with his father-in-law. His father gave him a pointed look. Using his cloth napkin to wipe any remaining chocolate from his face, he leaned over to Jessabelle. “It is time for us to take our leave.”
His wife’s eyes were wonderfully expressive, though he wasn’t crazy about the emotions he saw playing through them. Uncertainty. Fear. Discomfort. But she nodded. He moved his chair back and helped her move hers so she could stand.
“We’ll come for a visit soon,” he promised both queens. “Jessabelle has never been to Ravenzario or Montevaro. I’d love to show her around both countries.”
“You are always welcome, cousin.” Queen Adeline stood and gave Jessabelle a small hug.
Malachi offered his arm to Jessabelle, and she took it immediately. He led her out of the hall where the luncheon had been held. One good thing about not being the Crown Prince was the lack of all the extra stuff. No formal ball. No endless toasts. Just everyone else waiting for them to leave so they could, too. His father probably had appointments with Addie and Christiana or something else to get to.
Jessabelle’s hand rested snugly in his elbow. “Did you decide if you’d like to rest or go on the tour?” he asked.
She hesitated then stood a bit taller. “Let’s do the tour. I’m sure I’ll get lost at some point, but at least I’ll have some frame of reference.”
“I would imagine you’ll spend most of your time when you’re here in the apartment. There’s an office for each of us, multiple living areas, access to scads of movies and television shows, pretty much anything we could need, just as though it was our own separate dwelling and not part of the larger family residence.”
He led her through a hall, smiling at a few scurrying members of the staff, pausing before they entered the first room where she’d be introduced. “Will we always live here?” she asked. “Or will we ever live away from the palace?”
Malachi tipped his head to one side as he thought. “I don’t know. I suppose I never really thought about it. I am entitled to live in the palace until William’s heir takes over. Though it’s unlikely I’d be kicked out in the cold even then. However, which apartment would likely change, this one for now and a smaller one after William’s children are grown and need it, and our children are grown so we don’t. As for a place of our own? I have never considered it.”
She gave a single nod, and he reached for the door, but he continued to turn the idea over in his mind. Maybe it had merit. For the next two hours, he showed her around the palace and introduced her to different groups of staff members. His feet hurt by the time they came to a stop in front of a door with a keypad next to it. He could only imagine what her feet felt like in the heels she wore.
“And this is our apartment.” Malachi punched a ten digit code in and the lock released. “You’ll be able to set your own code to get in.” He punched a few more numbers then the pound sign. “That’s a privacy code. No one else will be able to get in without our permission, not even my father.” Pushing the door open, he waited for her to enter before him. “I haven’t moved in, not really. I haven’t even slept here yet.”
The door opened into a living area, dark, dusty and filled with furniture covered by sheets.
“I didn’t know how you’d want to decorate. We can pick from what we already have here, in one of the vacant apartments, or in storage, or we can order new.”
“Um, aren’t we staying here tonight?” She dropped his arm and twisted her hands together, something he noticed she did when she was nervous.
“No. We have a couple of options, and I suppose we could, but that wasn’t the plan. I’ll show you around, but our room isn’t ready yet. It’s one of the things the staff did ask that we do this afternoon.”
“What’s that?”
It couldn’t be much more awkward, could it? “Make some decisions about our room. They wanted to have it ready for us when we get back. Anything else can wait. Each of the bedrooms in the apartment is set up with different furniture for us to look at. We can pick from those or specify that we like one but would prefer a different color and so on.”
He led her to a door on the other side of the living area. “Through here is the kitchen. We will have a cook, if we want one, but if there’s ever anything you’d like to make, you’re welcome to. You don’t need to ask permission. This is your home.” Malachi looked over at her, reaching out to brush a bit of hair off her face. “It’s going to be our home for the foreseeable future, and I want you to be comfortable here. If something makes you uncomfortable, or if you’re curious about something, you need to let me know, and I’ll take care of i
t.”
Making up his mind to be honest about things, he took a step toward her, putting himself in her personal space. If he had to guess, she guarded that space fiercely, but when he put his hands on her hips, she didn’t try to back away. “I know this has caught us both off-guard. We’ve only known we were getting married for a couple of weeks and have only known each other for a few hours.” Now came the hard part. “I would never press you for more than you’re willing to give, for intimacies neither of us is ready for, but I’m afraid I’ll have to insist that we share a bed from the beginning.”
Jessabelle’s dark brown eyes closed, and he could see her swallow hard before she nodded. “I expected we would, but thank you for the other. I...” She took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m not ready for that. If you want me to be, I’ll do my best to be, but...”
He covered her lips with his thumb. “We’re not ready for that. Do you want to see the rest of the apartment?”
Her eyelids fluttered again though her eyes didn’t close completely. Instead, she seemed to stare at the knot in his tie. “We’re done with all of the formal stuff, right? There’s no other events today?”
Only ones that involved the two of them alone. “Correct.”
She hesitated still. “Can I change clothes before we look around here?”
“Of course.” He turned, resting his hand on her lower back, something he’d found himself doing a number of times over the course of the day. “Our things are in here.” Malachi led the way to the master suite. “They were supposed to have been brought over anyway.”
Malachi tried to keep his mind off the idea that he was walking into his new bedroom with his new bride. It was time to change into something more casual and see if she liked the idea he was going to surprise her with.
Chapter 4
Jessabelle stood a few feet inside the master bedroom and tried to keep her focus anywhere but on the exceptionally large bed across the room.
“The closet is through here.” Malachi kept his distance from her, which made her feel a bit more comfortable. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t felt anything when he brushed his thumb across her lips or rested his hands on her waist. Her new husband was devastatingly handsome, but she’d already known that. She hadn’t known how charismatic he was or how solicitous he’d be to her as soon as he realized she needed something.
Right now she needed out of the heels. Before she even reached the closet, she stopped and slipped both shoes off, squishing the plush carpet between her toes, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Feel better?”
Jessabelle looked up to see him leaning against the door frame. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he’d already dispensed with his coat and sword. His tie hung loose around his neck with a couple of buttons opened at the collar. The crown he’d been wearing since the ceremony had disappeared.
Devastatingly handsome didn’t begin to describe it.
Maddeningly casual wasn’t right.
Irresistibly sexy? Something, at nineteen, she’d never thought about anyone before.
Almost.
She couldn’t begin to form words around her stomach as it took up residence in her throat so she nodded.
His full, drool-worthy grin appeared. “Why don’t you go on in and change? I’ll wait out here. You’ve got to be a lot more uncomfortable than I am.”
Heat rushed to her face as she brushed past him. “Thanks,” she mumbled and prayed she could get out of the dress on her own. The closet was twice the size of her bedroom at her father’s house. Her little red suitcase sat open and waiting for her. Jessabelle selected a pair of linen pants and a silk blouse. Hopefully, it would be acceptable since they weren’t supposed to see anyone else. Blue jeans would have been her preference, but that seemed a little too casual.
It took a bit of doing but she managed to twist her arms around behind her and unclasp the hook then undo the ribbon holding the two sides of the gown together. She breathed a sigh of relief as the dress collapsed to the floor with the help of gravity. The relief quickly turned to frustration as she realized she wouldn’t be able to get the corset off by herself. Struggling to hold back the tears, she dressed quickly, leaving it on. Maybe she’d be able to figure it out on her own later.
At least she didn’t have to put her trouser socks on as she didn’t see the point in removing the stockings. She slid her feet into loafers. Did she need pumps? Heels? The Duchess of Cambridge had been at the wedding, though Jessabelle hadn’t met her. Didn’t the entire world hold the Duchess up as a paragon of fashion? What would she wear? To hang out at home? Who knew? Going out? Probably pumps. This would have to do for now. Jessabelle found a hanger and arranged her dress on it.
She reached for the closet door when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. That’s when she realized she hadn’t taken off the tiara Prince Malachi placed on her head during the ceremony. Could she remove it without somehow ruining it? When they’d retreated to the little room, someone had repositioned it and attached it to her hair. With a bit of careful probing, she found the pins holding it in place and breathed a sigh of relief when they were easily removed. She laid it carefully on one of the empty shelves that lined part of the closet.
That done, she took as deep a breath as she could still ensconced in the corset, and headed back into the bedroom. Prince Malachi had shed the red vest and talked on the phone in rapid-fire Italian. He smiled at her as he walked into the closet, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. One more reason to feel inadequate she supposed. He likely spoke several other languages, not just Italian and the native Mevendian variation on English. If you dropped her in the middle of Italy or Spain, she might be able to find the bathroom. Her high school language teacher had despaired of ever teaching her more.
Jessabelle spent the next few minutes looking around the room. If the closet was twice the size of her bedroom, the bedroom was nearly as large as the house she’d grown up in. It seemed like it at least. A screen hung down in the middle of the room. It looked as though it could be retracted into the ceiling and seen either from the bed or the sitting area off to the side. On one side of the bed, the door to the closet stood open. A door on the other side remained closed. To the bathroom perhaps? Her eyes slid over the bed to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Heavy drapes waited to be drawn and block out the early morning sunlight.
With one hand she pushed them further out of the way. As she suspected they didn’t overlook the capital city of Erres below, but rather the forest beyond. Currently covered by snow, she imagined the view would bring her comfort over the years to come.
“It’s a great view, isn’t it?” Prince Malachi’s voice didn’t faze her. “That’s why I chose this apartment. I love this view, and you can see further from the top floor than the one below this. I hope it’s okay.” She could hear concern in his voice. “There are a couple of other vacant apartments we could choose from if you don’t like it.”
Jessabelle shook her head. “It’s fine. I like the view.” What would he do if she said she hated it and wanted to find a different apartment or a different residence all together?
“Here.” She turned to see Prince Malachi wearing khaki pants and a dark blue button-down shirt, while holding out a beautifully wrapped box. “It’s not really from me, and as wedding presents go, it’s not all that great. The head of security gave it to me to give to you, but I hope you’ll find it useful.”
Had he gotten her an actual wedding present? Why hadn’t she thought to get him one? But what would she have gotten him if she did? Instead of obsessing over it, she took it from him. “Thank you.” He seemed to be waiting for her to open it, so she carefully slid a finger under the gold ribbon, working it over the corners of the box. Her father always hated the amount of time she took opening presents. Would Prince Malachi snap at her for taking too long like her father regularly did? She glanced up to find an amused smile on his face, but she didn’t go any faster.
When the p
aper finally slid off she set it on the desk next to her, and she got a look at the box. Much like any other paperboard box, this one was gold in color and had the royal family crest on it. Jessabelle set it on the table next to her and removed the lid. A folded piece of paper rested on top of the tissue. She opened it.
For Mevendia’s Newest Princess
Short. Sweet. To the Point.
Jessabelle set it off to the side and opened the tissue paper. Whatever she expected, this wasn’t it.
“A tablet?” She looked up at Prince Malachi. “I’ve never had a tablet before.” Her father wasn’t in the digital age. There was an aging desktop in the office where she had done her schoolwork, but only because her father had no choice. He’d likely already canceled the internet access. She picked up the sleek rectangle and saw something underneath. “A phone?” Did the prince know she’d never had a cell phone? She knew enough about how they worked from television and seeing others use them or talk about them, but she’d never even held one, only a dedicated e-reader she’d bought on the sly.
“Like I said, it’s not the most wedding-y gift, but I hope you’ll get some use out of them. Both meet with the palace’s security team’s approval for safety. If you already have a phone number you’d like transferred, the tech gurus can do that.”
Jessabelle shook her head. Prince Malachi came to stand right next to her, invading her personal space. Did he know how uncomfortable it made her? She struggled to take a deep breath with the corset still confining her.
“I’ll tell you about them later and show you some of the handier features. I thought you might want to make notes about furniture and stuff while we walk around the apartment.”
Right. Time to pick out bedroom furniture with a man she barely knew. Fabulous.
* * *
Malachi wondered if his wife would ever be comfortable around him. The tour of the apartment had been accomplished in near-silence. Jessabelle spoke only when he asked her a question. There hadn’t been much debating, but she agreed to whatever he suggested. He was about to throw out the idea of painting purple alien ships on the ceiling of their bedroom just to see what she’d say.
Hand-Me-Down Princess Page 3
