Her head was clearing, the headache waning. She pulled Christy out and set her near Christian. She started gently slapping Christian’s face and then began CPR. “Breathe!” she yelled. “Please breathe!” The seconds passed and nothing. She continued with the chest compressions until he gasped and started coughing. Christian was alive!
She kissed his forehead and started to cry as she turned her attention to Christy, who stirred and moaned. “Yes!” She called out, exhilaration filling her. Christian sat up, taking deep breaths. After coughing and throwing up several times, Christy was on her feet, heading up the stairs.
Marisa gaped and Christian shook his head.
“Come on,” she called. “We have a celebration to stop.”
“Yes, we do,” Marisa said. “Yes we do.” A surge of adrenaline rushed through her as she stood up and flew past Christy. Christian did too and took the lead. “I hope we haven’t missed the whole thing.”
“They wouldn’t start the party without the most important guests would they?” Christy called after them, stopping to throw up a couple more times. They reached the top and stopped to wait for her. She waved them on.
They heard cheers and shouts in the distance as they made their way onto the grounds. They still had a good way to go to get around the castle and to the stage where the king, queen, their entire family and Ottavio’s entire family would be sitting. They ran faster as the last coughs left their bodies. Marisa and Christian ran side by side. “I’ll go to the right side of the stage,” Marisa shouted. “You take the left. You can’t be seen with me.”
He nodded and veered off. She couldn’t ignore the fact that they were both in prison garb. How had they even hoped to get near the king? She shoved away the negative thoughts. She had to. She would, otherwise the kingdom would fall. An opening would present itself. She took note of all the stationed guards from a distance and watched as servers moved from the grounds and toward the castle kitchens. She didn’t hesitate, she grabbed the next waiter that came by and knocked him out. As she took the tray from him, she was surprised at the weight of it. She changed into his clothes as quickly as she could. As she dressed, she heard a voice ring out over the sound system.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we would like to call your attention to the stage where the royal orator will be reading the contract that helped form this fine country and that brought peace to the land exactly one hundred years ago today.”
“No. No.” She only had minutes to stop them. She fumbled with the buttons as she stood and ran, an empty tray in hand, toward the back of the stage. The speaker continued. She slowed and mixed in with a crowd of servers who were trying to get a glimpse of the stage, the guards allowing them some freedom to do so. She worked her way through that crowd. Only twenty feet and she’d have the stairs to the stage. A guard stood next to them, but she knew that if she pretended to belong, acted as if she was supposed to be there, he would let her pass. But she was wrong. She reached the bottom step, her head down, empty tray out.
“Hold!” the royal guard said. “No one enters the stage now.”
“But-but,” she stammered. “I’m supposed to take the king and queen’s glass before the reading.” She kept her head down, but her body tensed in readiness to do what she had to in order to get on the stage. Her body fired hot, and a fluttery feeling filled her chest.
He repeated himself. She didn’t have time for this. Ottavio was standing now, getting ready to move to the microphone. Her arms rose in the air, tray held firmly in her grasp, and she slammed the heavy tray over the guard’s head as hard as she could. Clang. He fell. The commotion brought the attention of the guards on the stage and two moved toward her. She would not stop. She took the stairs two at a time, reaching the stage before the two guards reached her. She could see the royal orator stepping up to the microphone. “No!” she called out. “Don’t read that!”
Every eye on the stage turned toward her, but her view of the royals was cut off by the arrival of the two guards who grabbed at her. She kept shouting as she dogged the men’s hands and weaved around them. “It’s a forgery!” She yelled out. “We have proof. Ottavio broke into the vault and altered the document!” Two more guards, personal guards apparently because they did not have uniforms on, entered the fray and finally got a firm hold on her and started to drag her down the steps. Not another sound came from the crowds. No one wanted to miss a word she said.
“Stop!” the king’s voice boomed through the silence. “Bring her here. And Orator–you will stop and not read the document at this time.”
The guards turned her around and brought her back up onto the stage. Christian, in his orange prison jumpsuit was standing next to the king, whispering into his ear.
She let out a sigh of relief. A great murmur sounded over the large crowd, and it grew with each of Marisa’s steps toward the king. The captain stood straight, his message delivered.
“Captain, take Princep Ottavio into custody.”
As the captain moved forward, guards from Aligard, loyal to Ottavio, popped up in the audience and tried to come to his aid. At the sight of other armed men, the royal castle guard moved in and stopped their progress. Ottavio pushed the orator out of the way and yelled into the microphone. “This kingdom is a sham. The Fiorellis stole my family’s mines for a hundred years and now that it is time to return them, they pull this on us. No. I demand the agreement be read and enforced.”
Four of the king’s personal guards took Ottavio away, and happy tears rolled down Marisa’s cheeks. She felt ultra-awake and rejuvenated by the adrenaline pumping through her.
The murmuring in the crowd grew as panic began to set in. Then Ace and Jeremy appeared at the bottom of the steps. Four guards blocked their path and Jeremy called out. “We’re here, Captain.”
Marisa’s eyes fell on the two men from Division. They held Tara between them. “Let them through!” the captain yelled to the guards. For a moment, it seemed the guards would not part, but when they did, moments later, four men from the audience tried to push their way through, yelling, “Justice for Aligard. We demand justice for Aligard.” Jeremy clocked one of the raving men with a fist to the jaw, sending him back into the crowd, while Ace grabbed one of the attackers’ legs as he climbed the stairs and threw him off the side. The other two were detained by the guards. Jeremy, Ace, and their prisoner walked up the steps. It appeared that Tara was giving a bit of resistance, but it was futile.
“This girl has evidence for the king,” the captain called out. The three made their way to the podium. Jeremy whispered something in Tara’s ear and then pushed her behind the microphone. The grounds went silent. Christian stepped up beside her and held up the document. “Now Tara. Is this the original document from the royal vault room?”
She glanced at it. “Yes.”
“Did you, on the command of Princeps Ottavio, alter it?”
“Yes.”
Jeremy and Ace let go of Tara and turned her over to Christian. He gave them a friendly nod and then they disappeared into the crowd.
“Captain, your actions are to be commended,” the king said. “The royal family thanks you.”
He bowed. The absurdity of the moment brought a hysterical giggle out of Marisa. Christian looked so ridiculous, bowing so formally in that awful jumpsuit.
The king’s eyes fell onto Marisa. She bowed, knowing she too looked ridiculous in her server’s uniform. She couldn’t help thinking she belonged in the orange jumpsuit.
“Your majesty. I have done all I could to right the wrongs that I have caused. The last thing I can do is to relinquish my freedom, and turn myself over to you.” She held out her hands to the guards, waiting to be cuffed.
Marisa thought she caught a look of extreme frustration on Christy’s face, who she saw sneak onto the very back part of the stage. Marisa was sorry—more sorry than she could ever say—but she knew what she had to do.
“Very well,” the king said, his voice unreadable. “Guards, arrest her—
for the crime of treason.”
“No!” Christian whispered.
She wished she could touch him as the guards led her past. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But it’s the right thing.”
19
Marisa stood rigid and erect outside the main hall after showering and getting into her crisp, clean uniform. She no longer had a keycard, any keys, or her radio, but she did have her staff. Carlo and Vadik stood blocking her way. She tried to ignore her bound hands and that her only friend on the guard was about to hear all about her shameful actions. Finally, after a full hour, the staffs were uncrossed and the large, heavy doors swung open. She walked down the long purple path to the king and queen on their thrones, stern faces watching her the whole way. The hall was empty except for the two royals, Christian, and the court reporter. The captain of the guard stood board straight at the bottom of the stage, his gaze seeming to light on nothing, but Marisa knew better. He was watching her.
She knelt before the royals at the bottom of the stage, at the end of the purple carpet runner. “Rise, royal castle guard Donati and face your accusers.”
She stood, her mouth in a firm line. This was it. The moment she would be sentenced to die. The court reporter sat in a corner, the tap-tapping sound of computer keys recording every word that would condemn her. “You have been accused of treason by way of leading a villain into our secure parts of the castle, giving her the opportunity to drug you and cause you to divulge royal castle secrets that gave her the opportunity to injure and attempt to kidnap the king, steal precious royal jewels, and alter a document that would have proven the end of the Fiorelli rule. What say ye to the charges?”
What could she say? The truth was that she was guilty. “Guilty as charged.” She thought she’d feel some relief in admitting this out loud to the royals, but there was none to be felt. The reality of her situation sunk deep in her bones. She would never feel Christian’s hand on hers again. Never feel his lips kiss her. Never see her family again. Never make the personal guard.
“Will you not defend yourself?” The king demanded. She looked up, puzzled. He seemed… irritated with her.
But there was nothing she could do. “All that you say is true. I have no defense.” An ache settled in her gut, like she’d just swallowed a ten pound weight.
“While you may believe that is true, I have heard evidence to the contrary.” Marisa’s jaw dropped. The king turned to the high royal clerk and said, “Let the witness come forth.”
A side door opened and in walked Tara, hands bound and head hanging, followed by two royal prison guardsmen. What was this? Marisa’s heart thrummed against her ribs and she wondered if she’d ever be able to breathe again.
Tara told the story of that night in its entirety. Marisa couldn’t stop the tears from rushing out of her eyes as Tara spoke. It was like she was hearing a story about someone else. That girl that accompanied Tara into the castle was not her. Not Marisa. Her skin tingled, and dizziness swept over her time and time again, but she was able to keep her footing.
Once Tara’s story ended, she was escorted out of the chamber. She mouthed the words, “I’m sorry,” to Marisa.
“I have heard all the evidence and am ready to rule,” the king said. The sound of the court reporter’s keys tapping halted momentarily. “You made a serious error—allowing yourself to be manipulated by enemies of the state.”
Marisa steeled herself for the verdict. She’d told herself she was ready for this, but now that she was facing it, her heart quailed.
“However—” The king paused, and Marisa’s heart leapt out of her chest. However?
“However, you did not willingly commit treason, and in fact did everything in your power to prevent it. You were careless, allowing yourself to be drugged, but you did not knowingly permit enemies of the state to enter the castle.
“In fact, I am convinced that any guard could have been tricked and drugged and forced into revealing castle secrets—a security problem Captain Di Stefano and I will now be discussing at length. What I am not convinced of, is whether any guard would have done all that you have done to protect and serve your king and country.” Marisa dared to look at him and found that he was smiling down at her.
“Therefore, I find you innocent of the charge of treason.”
Marisa’s knees went weak. Gratitude swept over her. Innocent. Tears coursed down her face; she couldn’t help it.
“Marisa Donati, by all accounts you are our most skilled guard. You have done a great service for this country, and for that I spare your life. Nevertheless, your mistakes, foolishness, and poor judgment cannot go unanswered. You are hereby stripped of all privileges, associations, and contracts with the royal guard and are banned from ever resubmitting yourself.”
It was like she’d been shot. A moment ago she’d feared death, but this somehow felt even worse. Her whole life draining away, but she did not slouch, she kept her shoulders back and her head held high.
“I have no doubt you will find something to do that suits your particular talents. I am sure the general would welcome you with open arms.”
She shivered, not because she didn’t love her father and want to be accepted by him, but because it would be a step backwards for her. Having to embrace her father’s help to clear her name was bad enough. She would not go to him for a job.
“And we would love to see you from time to time at events at the castle. Don’t hesitate to stop in occasionally and fill us in on your life. We are not naïve enough to believe that if you hadn’t become Tara’s pawn, someone else would have. I dare say that we are glad it was you, because without you, we would not be sitting where we are today.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You are free to go. Please sign the ruling on your way out and turn in all the remainder of your uniform and gear to the captain before you go.”
She nodded, clicked her heels as she turned to go, and walked down the long path to her new life without the royal guard.
The heavy doors opened and before they could close, Carlo abandoned his post and hugged her tight. It was a true testament to their friendship that Marisa would never forget. “Congratulations. I know it wasn’t the perfect outcome, and we’ll miss you, but I’m so glad you won’t be executed.”
“Thank you,” she said, pulling away from him. “Now, get back to your post before the captain of the guard discovers your lack in protocol.”
He winked at her. “See you at Murazzi’s?”
“Not on your life,” she said, chuckling and walking down the hall to her changing room.
20
As Marisa entered her changing room for the last time, she felt a presence inside and readied herself for whatever she might find. She slinked around the corner to find Christy sitting at her desk staring off into space.
Marisa sagged then. “Christy.” Christy turned to her and smiled. “I thought you’d gone.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Marisa’s heart raced. Was Christy going to offer her a job with Division? If she did, she might just be able to cope with the loss of knowing she would never be part of the personal guard.
“I wanted to tell you how amazing you are and that I’m sorry you lost your job. I know how important it was to you.”
The knowledge that Christy had read everything that had ever been written about her and probably what anyone anywhere had ever written about her, made her appreciate the words even more.
“I’m sure your head must be spinning right now with questions about your future. Think of it as a time to rediscover yourself.”
“I’ve never wanted to be anything but a royal guard.” She fiddled with the uniform in her hands.
“But that’s not really true, is it?”
Marisa sat on the bench and set the uniform to the side. “I guess not.”
“You once dreamed of being like your brothers and making your dad proud of you.”
Marisa winced. “I did.”
“Wh
at changed that? It was more than the incident with the personal guard. It started way before that when you were just a little girl, didn’t it? What was it you told that reporter that one time about aspiring to be someone else?”
“That it was the surest way to find disappointment and unhappiness.”
“So why was it you wanted to be the best royal guard ever?”
“I wanted to excel in a way that didn’t have anything to do with my father or his connections.” The realization startled her somewhat. “Something that he couldn’t claim. Something that no one else had ever done.”
“And you’ve done that.” Christy grinned. “You’ve done that. It’s probably time to set a new goal.”
Marisa nodded, realizing Christy was right. Her heart raced with the realization.
Christy stood. “Good luck, Marisa. I hope we run into each other again sometime soon.”
So she wasn’t offering her a job. Marisa stood and hurried over to Christy, giving her a big hug. “Thank you. And you were right. You are way older than your years give you credit for.”
Before Christy rounded the corner to leave the room, Marisa called to her, “Christy?”
“Yeah?” she turned back.
“You and Jeremy…are you like…you know…”
“Relationships are hard to have when you’re a spy. Probably just as hard as when you are a royal guard.” Christy gave Marisa a knowing look.
“It’s awful, that’s what it is,” Marisa said. “But there are more important things in life than romantic love.”
Christy huffed. “Are you sure about that? A life without love is harder than you may think.”
Marisa thought about the way Jeremy and Christy talked and worked together. How it seemed effortless and like they’d been together forever, like they were a part of a choreographed dance. If only she could have that with Christian. At least Christy got to spend every day with Jeremy.
The Royal Guard Page 14
