Kostas hated me. Hated all of us. All of this.
And looking at it now? I couldn't blame him in the slightest.
How was I even partially enjoying myself? How could I?
"Smile, Princess," George hissed. It was only then that I realized that the pleasant expression had fallen from my face and I likely looked quite scared.
Gideon glanced down at the sound, narrowing his eyes slightly at my advisor before ducking his head closer to mine. "Ready to go?"
I found myself nodding, my hand still waving nonetheless.
Gideon clasped my other hand in his, tucking it back in the crook of his arm as he waved goodbye to the photographers. "This was lovely, but I think the Princess and I really should get back to our walk."
George was sputtering something or another, but Gideon was already walking away with me in tow.
I glanced up at him, never more grateful for another human being than I was in that moment. "Thank you," I whispered, grinning up at him.
"Don't mention it," he scoffed, dismissing my thanks. "I could tell you wanted to be done with that spectacle. What good is my guest status in this country if I can't be rude and demand all of your time and attention?" His beamed, his eyes twinkling.
I laughed, reaching up to rest my other hand on his arm.
"Is everything alright, otherwise?" Gideon asked. "You spaced out just then."
Taking a deep breath and letting it out again, I began talking. "There was an incident earlier, on our way here. My limo, it ran… it ran into a bicycle courier."
Gideon's eyes widened. "Oh gods… was the courier…?"
"He was fine. He's fine. I just… I made such a fool of myself…" I shook my head. "I wanted to deal with it on my own, you know? I wanted to make an effort. Everyone's so angry with us, I thought it would be a gesture of goodwill if I dealt with a problem head on and didn't hide behind my advisor."
Gideon's face was one of complete understanding. He nodded once, a silent urge to continue.
"Well. He called me out on it. The courier, not George! I was writing him a check,mostly because I'd embarrassed myself by not knowing how many notes a bicycle costs… Then he said something about donating the rest of the money George gave him."
"Your advisor bribes people too?" Gideon asked, eyebrows raised. "It must be just something they learn when they are taught how to advise royalty."
"They make the problems go away," I said with a shrug. "But yes. He gave him ten thousand notes, you see. And I told Kos-- the courier I would double the amount in a check to the shelter of his choice. But then the photographers appeared. And he assumed the worst, but he wasn't all that far from the truth…And I - I just can't stop thinking about it."
Gideon was silent for a moment, likely mulling over what I'd shared before he spoke. "Do you agree with what he accused? Are you a bad person, Vi?"
"I don't think anyone thinks they're a bad person, Gideon."
"True. But do you go out of your way not to be a bad person?"
"I try," I replied.
"And that's really all you can do," Gideon said. "I may not have visited with you in four years - which still seems wrong, and is an absolute travesty that I will be rectifying in the coming months, I assure you. But the Violet Mortcombe I knew then wasn't a bad person. And I'm sure the Violet you've grown to be isn't one either."
I smiled, squeezing his arm. "Thank you, Gideon."
"Do you feel better?"
"A little."
He grinned. "Good. Because I want to go stand on the bow of the ship and be King of the World."
Rolling my eyes, I held out my hand. "Lead the way, Your Majesty."
I did end up having to stay at the dedication until nearly midnight, but it didn't feel like such a very long time with Gideon there with me. He kept me safely out of George's clutches, and to my advisor's chagrin, neglectful of my schedule for the entire night.
We ate too much, laughed even more, and made a game of keeping out of sight. The game led to the two of us finding ourselves in very close quarters when the door Gideon opened was not an escape into a stateroom and ended up being a supply closet instead.
Being pressed against Gideon's good-smelling, very muscular chest wasn't such a hardship. It did make his cheeks delightfully red for the next few minutes.
I'm certain mine were as well.
As the evening drew to a close, he walked with me towards my limo.
"I had an absolutely wonderful time with you, Vi," he said softly, reaching for my hand to lace our fingers once more. "Hide and seek is more fun as adults."
"Especially when the other team doesn't know they're playing a game," I giggled.
He pulled my hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. His fingers trailed over my cheek, leaving my skin tingling in their wake. "I know I'm supposed to kiss your cheek. But would you mind if I kissed your lips?"
I shook my head. "Not at all."
He smiled, leaning down to gently brush his lips over mine. It was the barest of kisses. Simple and light, to all appearances chaste. But the feeling it gave me deep in my belly was nowhere near chaste.
I inhaled sharply when he pulled away, a sly smile gracing his lovely face as he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Until next time, Vi."
"Until next time… and maybe don't wait four years."
"Seeing as I'll be visiting you later in the week, I can safely promise I won't," he replied, waving as I ducked into the limo.
Amanda slid in behind me, George bringing up the rear.
"You know, your Highness," George began, sniffing indignantly, "I did not care for the way Prince Gideon monopolized your time. Perhaps you would do well to wait until you meet with his brother before you make any permanent decisions."
George was impossible sometimes. Spend time with the prince, don't spend so much time with the prince…
I could barely hold back my mirth when I replied. "I haven't made any decisions, George."
"It certainly seems as if you have," he muttered. "It's highly inappropriate for him to kiss your mouth, Princess. But you know this."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "It looked perfectly chaste to me. I'm sure the only one seeing anything dirty is you, G." She reached out and nudged his shoulder with her fist.
"I see no such thing," George sputtered. "I'm sure Prince Gideon's intentions were pure. It simply appeared -"
"I had a good time with him, George," I interrupted. "Which was what you told me to do, yes?"
He was silent for a long moment before acquiescing. "Yes."
"Okay, then," I replied smugly.
CHAPTER FOUR
Violet
I woke up the day after the ship dedication with a mild throbbing in the back of my head. It wasn't an unexpected feeling, given how late I'd stayed out the night before. I lay in bed for a good long while, stretching my legs and curling my toes into the cool sheets.
Memories of champagne and hor d'oeuvres with Gideon were at the forefront of my mind, and so I reached my arms up over my head to begin the process of waking with a smile on my face despite the persistence of the dull headache. I couldn't help the happy feeling our reunion had given me, and every detail of the night before played through my head on fast-forward.
I sat up, bringing the pain in my head to a hammering crescendo.
More annoying than the throbbing in my head, however, was the nagging feeling that I should get up and do something. (And no, the nagging feeling didn't want me to go practice my short game on the golf course out back. Of course, I didn't even want to go practice my short game on the golf course out back, so I couldn't exactly fault the nagging feeling, now could I?)
No, it was much more involved than that.
It was regarding a specific piece of advice Gideon had given me the night before. When he'd asked me if I was trying my hardest not to be a bad person.
I was trying my hardest. Or, at least, I thought I was. And that was all I could do, correct?
; But that annoying nag in my brain made me think that I could be doing more. That I should be doing more.
And if it was coming from my brain, then I'd better follow through on it.
So instead of lolling around in bed all day like I wanted to, I rolled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom and to begin my day.
Initially, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but while I was in the shower, it hit me.
The detachable shower head, that is. I hadn't put it snugly enough in the cradle and it slipped out, knocking me on the back of the head.
I groaned and rubbed the spot for a few minutes, allowing my thoughts to unscramble.
Once they had, I knew what I needed to do: I had to go to a shelter. I knew there was one on Blaine Street. Since Kostas had mentioned it the day before, it seemed like the best place to start.
By the time I finished washing myself, my plan was fully formulated. I was going there to make a donation on my own.
Sending my personal assistant was something a clueless aristocrat would do. And I wasn't about to stay a clueless aristocrat for the rest of my life.
Clueless aristocrats didn't try to better themselves.
And I intended to do just that.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. I found my phone and I used it to first call Amanda, to inform her of my decision.
She wasn't exactly thrilled. In fact, she tried to talk me out of it a couple of times before I put my foot down. I was doing this with or without her, and since without her wasn't exactly an option…
She acquiesced and told me that she'd bring the car around in an hour.
Now I only had to convince George. Which was easier said than done.
I was able to secure a meeting with the shelter head, Linus Miller, later that morning.
George had been even less thrilled than Amanda. The ride to the shelter was one of the most awkward of my life, and I'd had my share of awkward car rides. The one yesterday, as we made our way to the ship dedication after having literally run into a man on the street, came to mind.
And this one was somehow trumping it easily.
"Amanda can simply drop off your donation, Princess. There is really no need for you to bother with this yourself."
"Think of the P. R, though," I offered, trying to remain positive. After having put my foot down with Amanda earlier, I wasn't really up for a repeat performance with George. For one, he was somehow able to ignore everything I said with brilliant acuity. For another, he didn't like hearing no.
And Amanda said I was spoiled.
"The P. R will make no difference, Highness, not when you wouldn't allow me to notify the media."
I could barely contain my eye roll at that. He really had tried to get the media involved. I had to hand it to him. He could scare up reporters quicker than anyone else I knew. I doubt I could have gathered as many cameras and reporters even if I'd stripped down naked on Main Street and performed interpretive dance for the passersby compared to him and just his phone.
It didn't matter. I didn't want my visit to become some publicity stunt. The only thought that came to mind once I'd heard what George wanted was Kostas sneering at me and ripping up my check.
No, this wasn't for spectacle. This was because I wanted to help.
"I'm sorry, George. I think it'd be tacky."
"Your job isn't to worry about things like that, Princess Violet," George simpered. "Your job is to allow me to worry. It wouldn't be tacky, it would endear you to the public."
"I believe the public would be endeared to me more if this wasn't something that needed my attention," I countered. "Do you know how many people are homeless in Tinerly alone?"
George shot me a look of reproach. "Do you?"
I set my jaw. I actually did know the answer to this. "One in eight."
"It surely isn't your problem, Highness. These are people who likely haven't done an honest day's work in their lives…"
I sniffed haughtily and cleared my throat. "I suppose I'll have lots in common with them, then, won't I?"
My reply earned a snicker from Amanda, who had been strangely quiet all morning. Since our phone call, I had been worried that I'd upset her somehow, but the smile she leveled at me from across the seats had me feeling better instantly.
Appearing very smug and victorious, I settled back into the seat for the remainder of the trip. It was just a few more turns before we arrived at the shelter.
My meeting with the head of the shelter went very well. Linus was more than thrilled to meet the Princess of Justana and accept her personal donation. He even offered me a personal and private tour of the shelter. A kind offer, which I unfortunately couldn't accept today. I had other plans for the afternoon, but I did promise to take him up on it at a later date.
Unfortunately, after accepting my check, Linus wanted to take a picture with me for posterity - a seemingly benign request that I could, nevertheless, see escalating into more than that in a matter of hours.
I hadn't changed my mind since the earlier conversation with George: I never really wanted to do this for the positive publicity. In fact, I was adamantly not doing it for the publicity. The donation was even in Kostas' name.
George refused to hear of it.
"Her Highness would be thrilled to take a picture with you, sir," he answered over me. Graciously. He even swept his arm out to the side when he spoke.
"George," I began, turning my head to eye him pointedly. "I would really rather stay anonymous… Besides, I'm donating this in Kostas Esker's name and not in mine."
"That's nonsense," he said with a laugh that made me want to punch him. "What's the point of you coming here yourself if you're not going to utilize this very obvious P. R. move? You've been complaining about not seeming as down to earth as you'd prefer."
He was being an utter bastard about this whole thing. After I bested him on the ride over, he must have been reworking his assault until he could corner me in front of a witness.
Of course, I would love to take a picture with Linus, if that was all it was. But how was I to know if Linus would then turn around and mention my visit to someone, or share it on his social media and have it go viral?
Not that he'd do something like that on purpose. I didn't know Linus very well, but I could sense a certain disposition. He was a good guy and he wouldn't do something awful like sell his story to the Daily Justanian. But he might tell a friend, who would tell another friend, who would tell another friend and so on and so forth.
The media sources in Tinerly weren't exactly focused on getting the facts so much as getting a story, so they'd run with whatever hearsay they came across.
"Right. And the way to seem down to earth is to donate thousands of notes to a homeless shelter?" I asked, causing Amanda to snort under her breath.
George glared in her direction.
"What?" she asked. "When she's right, she's right…" she trailed off. "Besides. I can think of a much better way to get positive stories for the princess than a photo op."
"I really only wanted a selfie with the princess," Linus interjected. "It was unrelated to the donation. We are very respectful of our benefactors wishes here. If her highness wants to make this donation in another's name, we will respect that."
It was difficult to turn down such a practical request.
"Oh," I said with a light laugh, not entirely sure if I was doing the right thing or not. "Well, then by all means, let's take your selfie."
I posed beside him, smiling into the camera as he snapped the picture.
All the while, George stood aside with Amanda, grumbling to himself until I was finished. Then he rounded on Amanda once more.
"What's your idea?"
"She's coming another time to tour the shelter, right?" she asked.
"But that's not set in stone yet," I interrupted, seeing where she was headed and disliking it even more than the thought of Linus being the one to leak the story accidentally.
How
ever, I was no match for Amanda's pitch, especially coupled with George's desire to reclaim his position as top dog. It was decided that I would be scheduled to tour the shelter privately, but in the company of the photographer for the Daily Justanian and one of their reporters.
I didn't want to argue with Amanda again, so I closed my mouth while she and Linus began to work through the minefield that was my schedule to find a day that worked.
I simply stood by and listened.
Listened to the plans, yes, at first. But they were fairly generic in nature: a walk-through and a meet-and-greet with the staff. It was admittedly boring stuff and my attention wandered elsewhere. Instead, I listened to George, who was on the phone with someone the whole time Amanda was talking to Linus.
George wasn't talking about the tour, that was for certain. The only words I could make out were 'Etria', 'the Council', and 'Gideon'.
I wasn't sure what that meant, but I could imagine a few possible scenarios. Etria and Gideon were obvious, but why would he bring the Council into this? What could those four old men have to do with Etria and Gideon?
What was George planning? I supposed in order to figure it out, I'd have to know a bit about what laws and propositions were running through the Council right now. But I didn't, so all I could do was muse on the subject and pretend I wasn't listening in.
I shook myself out of my thoughts long enough to laugh at some joke Linus told and pondered what on earth George could be plotting.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gideon
I reached out to take the princess' hand once again. As the time for my departure from Justana drew nearer, my desperation for Vi's smiles only seemed to grow. And after the hoops I'd had to jump through just to get this time alone with her, it felt like I hadn't spent any time with her at all.
Her tight-ass advisor certainly didn't make things easy for me, which made no sense to me whatsoever, given that the point of my being here in Justana was to spend time with Princess Violet.
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