Felix and the Prince

by Lucy Lennox

  Once I’d downed a cup of coffee and a granola bar I found in my backpack, I bundled up in my coat and hat to make my way to the glassworks building.

  When I entered through the wide door, I saw the glow from the fire right away. Calum was sitting back drinking from a mug while reading a paperback book that seemed as old as he was. Two of his assistants puttered around the studio behind him.

  “Morning,” I said with a smile. “You ready for me?”

  “Do I have a choice?” he asked in his rough voice. I would have thought his question was rude if I hadn’t noticed the twinkle in his eye. “Come on over here. We’re making glass today.”

  My heart sped up. Had he really meant we?

  “Why do you look so surprised, young Felix? I thought you’d done this before.”

  I was in the process of taking off my coat when I laughed. “Yes, sir. I have. I have a degree in glassmaking. Not the same as being master glassmaker at Gadleigh but enough to keep from embarrassing myself with a blowpipe and marvering table,” I joked. “And I’d do just about anything to make something in the Gadleigh glassworks.”

  “Well, then. I guess you’d better get an apron on. Let me tell you what I have in mind.”

  We spent the next hour going over his process. Calum was like a completely different man than he’d been before. He apologized for being “quiet” when we’d first met, explaining only that he’d been knackered from the exhausting schedule of the holiday ornaments.

  “Every year Gadleigh makes a special design and sells it around the world as a collectible. They’re done in the summer, believe it or not, but the royal family itself gets a unique design that’s made in November and early December and given out as personal gifts to friends and family.”

  I quirked my head at him. “What royal family?”

  “Monaco, son. The royal family who owns Gadleigh. Surely you did your homework if you’ve been studying this place.”

  “Oh, right. Yes. I forgot. So much of my study is about the glassmakers and the history, I forget it’s still connected to the monarchy today. I can’t imagine being on the list to get one of the royal ornaments. Do you have one from this year? I’d love to see it.” That explained how Lio had ties to Gadleigh. He was from Monaco.

  Calum wheeled his metal stool over to a worktable and reached for a wooden box. When he returned to where I was sitting, he opened the lid, revealing four or five glass pyramids. They were exquisite, with colored spirals twisting from one inside corner, through the clear pyramid, to another corner. It was like a colorful glass version of Untangle the Knot.

  “My god,” I breathed. “How in the world did you manage to do this? It’s breathtaking.”

  Calum puffed up with pride. “I could tell you, or…” His eyes flicked to the melting furnace. “I could show you. What do you reckon is best?” His wink sparked off my excitement, causing me to sit up straight on my stool. I caught one of Calum’s assistants smiling at me with understanding. Surely, he knew how damned lucky he was to work with the Gadleigh glass master.

  “I believe you know the answer to that question.” I felt like a kid in a candy store.

  Once we got our hands dirty, time passed in a flash. Before I knew it, I was covered in sweat and dust, my face was surely beet red from the heat of the fire, and I’d finally gotten a few hours’ respite from my Lio-based anxiety. Calum’s assistants were funny and crass, and their banter made the time even more fun.

  Obviously, my glass pyramids didn’t look nearly as breathtaking as Calum’s did, but I did manage to complete two of them before our lunch break. I planned on giving one to Doc and Grandpa and giving the other to the newest Wilde, my cousin’s baby, Pippa. One of my aunts had made a point of giving each niece and nephew a new ornament every year, and I’d always thought it was a special tradition.

  “Ready for a hearty meal?” Calum finally asked after two in the afternoon, wiping a rag across his face. His grin was large in his ruddy cheeks, and I realized just what a different man he was than the one I’d met only a couple of days before.

  “Lead on, master,” I teased.

  None of us put a coat back on for the walk to the main house for lunch. The cool wind off the sea felt amazing on my heated skin. I wondered if I’d run into Lio in the kitchen and hoped the later hour meant he’d come and gone from Mari’s lair already.

  Sure enough, the only people to be found were Bert, the estate manager, Mari, and a man I hadn’t met before named Arthur. He appeared to be older than my oldest cousin, Hudson, but younger than fifty. The man had short dark hair with threads of silver in it that only served to make him more attractive. If he hadn’t been so stiff and formal, he’d be downright droolworthy.

  Bert sat reading a newspaper while Mari fussed around making plates for the four of us. Arthur studied me like I was something of interest. It was a little creepy, so I tried ignoring him.

  “Sorry, I’m a sweaty mess,” I told Mari.

  She beamed up at me. “Nothing wrong with the results of hard work, Felix, and if’n you keep that large grin on your face, I’d imagine it’ll do to serve the likes of you regardless.”

  I followed Calum’s helpers to the large sink and washed my hands before taking my place at the thick wooden table in the center of the room. The heat from the kitchen fire was hardly noticeable compared to the heat in the glassworks, and I relished some time away from the hot air.

  When I realized Calum and Arthur were speaking familiarly, I asked Arthur what he did at the castle.

  He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to freeze before a single word came out.

  “Uh, sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s really none of my business.”

  “No, no. It’s fine. I am one of the assistants to the royal family. When they are in residence, I help with… clothing. Packing, unpacking, pressing, and whatnot. It’s… yes. That is what I do. The service I perform. For the royal, ahem, family.”

  Mari hid a chuckle in a dish towel, and I noticed her face flush pink. Were they making fun of me? I didn’t know much about the royal family of Monaco, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know they had valets.

  “You’re a royal valet?”

  Arthur’s eyes widened before his smile did the same. “Yes, Felix. I am a valet. Have served the royal family for almost twenty years. They are good people.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “Well, they’re lucky to have you, then.”

  Once we were all finished eating, Mari pulled me aside and handed me a slip of paper. “Your grandfather called while you were out this morning. You can use the phone in my office to call him back if you’d like.”

  My heart began to hammer in my chest. Doc and Grandpa had the phone number to the castle in case of emergencies since my cell phone wouldn’t work on the remote island. “Did he say if anything was wrong?”

  Mari’s eyes softened and she reached out to pat my shoulder. “Didn’t sound like it, my boy. Go and call him, then. You’ll see. I’m sure everything is fine.”

  I excused myself to Calum and his men before making my way to the kitchen office and closing the door. After dialing the long string of numbers to reach home, I calculated the time difference.

  It was almost three here which meant almost nine in the morning at home.

  I heard the click of the phone connecting and didn’t wait for the man to speak. “Grandpa? Is everything okay?”

  The deep, familiar sound of his voice washed over me, making my eyes sting. “Of course it is. Everything’s fine, son. We were just calling to wish you a Merry Christmas in case we couldn’t get a hold of you tomorrow.”

  I let out a breath and ran my hand through my hair in relief. I’d forgotten today was Christmas Eve. “Shit. You scared me to death.”

  I heard Doc’s familiar chuckle join Grandpa’s scoff. “Don’t say that, or I’ll owe Doc ten bucks.”

  I felt a laugh bubble up. “It’s good to hear your voice. Hey, Doc.”
/>
  “Hey, Felix. Met any hot glassmakers over there?” Doc’s teasing voice was light, reminding me of the advice he’d given me to relax and have some fun.

  I thought about Calum’s two assistants. One was almost as old as dirt, and despite being cute as a button, didn’t spin my wheel. The other was a nice enough guy about my age, but married to a woman who worked in the stables.

  “No, no glassmakers.”

  They must have heard something in my voice because the two of them both began chattering excitedly.

  “Tell us everything,” Grandpa insisted.

  “Spill,” Doc agreed.

  “Well, there is a hot guy here. Seems like a friend of the family of the couple that runs the place. I guess he’s here for vacation or to get away from the city maybe. He lives in Monte Carlo.”

  They tittered back and forth. “Wonder if he’s famous,” Doc mused.

  “Or rich,” Grandpa speculated.

  I sighed. “Does it matter? We’re only here together temporarily. It’s not like a dating situation.” I tapped a nearby pen on the pad of paper by the phone. “More of like…”

  “Like?” Doc asked.

  “More of like a hookup thing,” I admitted, feeling my face heat before they even had a chance to tease me.

  “Hoooo-boy!” Grandpa whooped in the background as Doc laughed his fool head off.

  “You staying safe, Felix? I should have stocked your bag with condoms and lube,” Doc muttered. “Knew I forgot something, dammit.”

  “No, I mean, yes. I’m staying safe. But I have to admit, I’d have given anything for you to have stowed that shit in my bag. As it was, staying safe meant not getting too lucky.”

  My friends at school had never understood how I was so open about sex with my grandparents. But then again, they didn’t fully grasp that my grandparents were not only cool, but also gay men themselves. Which meant, they knew shit. Lots of shit. Good shit. My cousin West told me early on that Grandpa and Doc were cool like that and just wanted what was best for all of us.

  It had been hard for me to open up to them about personal stuff like sex since they were like fathers to me, but once I had, it was like opening floodgates. We’d only gotten closer, and I knew I was lucky as hell to have them.

  “Well, shit, Fee,” Doc said. “Sorry about that. I guess there’s no drugstore on every corner there at Gadleigh, is there?”

  I snorted. “I wish. And I doubt the sixty-year-old caretakers have condoms to spare either.”

  “Does FedEx deliver there?” I heard Grandpa ask Doc in the background.

  “Never mind. It’s fine. I’m actually more interested in the glass,” I lied. “It’s amazing.” Okay, that part wasn’t a lie. It truly was amazing. “The master glassmaker taught me some new techniques this morning. We just finished our lunch break, and now he’s going to teach me a new cane-braiding method this afternoon.”

  “Sounds like a dream come true, son,” Grandpa said, the love clear in his voice. “We’re so proud of you.”

  “I can’t thank you guys enough for sending me here,” I told them with a lump in my throat. “It means the world to me to see something I’ve only ever dreamed about.”

  “You deserve to have all of your dreams come true, Felix,” Doc said in a gentle voice. “We love you. Oh, before I forget, Ruth was trying to get in touch with you. You might want to shoot her an email if you can’t call.”

  Ruth Lawson was one of my favorite art history professors. During my graduate program, I’d been her teaching assistant and discovered how much I loved teaching college kids. We’d stayed in touch over the years and remained friends.

  When I finished the call with my family, I called Ruth.

  “Oh, thank god I caught you,” she said in her typical frenzied rush. “You’re in England, right? I mean, not England. Gadleigh.”

  “Yes. I’m at Gadleigh. Why?”

  “Is there any way you can fly to Paris to give a talk for me before you fly home? I’m scheduled to present at a symposium right after New Year’s, and I broke my damned foot slipping on the ice at my daughter’s house in Denver. I could still do it, but I really don’t want to go through all the hassle of trying to travel to Europe on crutches.”

  “What’s the presentation about? Surely I wouldn’t be able to—”

  She cut me off. “I was going to be talking about William Morris, but everyone’s heard it all before. I want you to give a talk on Etienne DesMarais.”

  I took a deep breath and tried not to cuss her out. “God fucking dammit, Ruth.” So much for not cussing her out.

  “Just listen,” she said. “This is the perfect opportunity to present your dissertation, Felix. Consider it practice. You know Etienne’s work like the back of your hand, and by the time you’re done at Gadleigh, you’ll even have all the firsthand knowledge of it you need to sell the thesis that he’s the mysterious Gadleigh glass artist.”

  “I don’t feel like I have the proof I need. I’m not ready, and the dissertation sure as hell isn’t ready,” I whined.

  “Bullshit. The dissertation has been done for months, and you’re never going to be ready. No time like the present. Suck it up, buttercup. This is happening. I was all set to sweet-talk you into it and play the broken-bone card, but I can see you need a little tough love instead. So here’s the deal. You’re doing it. If you don’t show up, I’ll be considered a no-show among my peers. You wouldn’t do that to a broken-down old lady, would you?”

  “You’re going to burn in hell,” I muttered.

  “As long as they have an espresso machine, I’m cool with it. Thank you, Fee. I owe you one,” she said before promising to email the details.

  “You owe me a million,” I corrected before she hung up.

  As I made my way back out to the glassworks studio, I had a heart full of love for my family back home, even if it was besmirched by some resentment toward my old mentor. Doc and Grandpa had reminded me today was Christmas Eve, which meant my mother’s big blockbuster movie debuted in theaters all over the world tomorrow. And thanks to them, I was a million miles away from the attention it would bring to both my family and my tiny hometown. Now, thanks to Ruth, I could justify extending my exodus a little bit longer.

  God bless the ability to hide from the tabloid media.

  Chapter 13

  Lio

  I’d snuck out of his room in the early hours of the morning like a fucking coward. Fear had gripped me as multiple crazy thoughts compounded in my head. What if Felix really knew who I was and was playing me for some kind of media exposé? What if he didn’t know who I was but would sell me out the minute he found out? And, possibly most importantly, why couldn’t I stop thinking about him for more than two fucking consecutive minutes?

  After gathering Jon and heading back to the main house, I’d paced the floor of my bedroom for at least an hour, lecturing myself about how stupid it had been to take such a risk with a stranger. I thought about how I was not much better than my father—unable keep his dick in his pants long enough to avoid a royal scandal.

  But Father is married, and I’m not. Why can’t I have a fling while I’m young? My thoughts had betrayed me.

  Because the fling was with a man.

  And that was the truth of it. What the entire thing boiled down to. I could sleep around as much as I wanted to and only get a reputation for being a playboy. But the minute the press discovered I preferred men to women? Then it would be another story entirely.

  It was a moot point, though. I’d always known when it came time to settle down, it would be with a woman. Someone to play the role as my wife and mother to my children. Someone to represent the monarchy with the same elegance and grace my mother had.

  Maybe it was crass, but in my mind, men were for fucking while women were for marrying.

  By the time dawn had arrived, I’d talked myself into my decision to walk away from the temptation of Felix. I’d avoid him and get my mind back where it needed to be—on th
e assumption of the throne and the mantle of responsibility it would require of me.

  I was determined. I’d had my one night with Felix; I’d gotten to taste him and touch him and watch him let go. It was enough. It had to be enough.

  Arthur, however, didn’t seem content for me to move on. Especially without sharing the details with him first. From the moment he arrived in my room to help me dress – or rather, sit by the fire while he watched me dress – he’d been waiting for me to spill.

  “None of your business,” I grumbled over the crumbly basket of breakfast breads Mari had reluctantly sent up to my room.

  Arthur raised an eyebrow at me. “You know you’re going to tell me eventually, so you might as well do it now and get it over with.”

  “You’re going to judge me,” I whined.

  “And? What else is new?”

  I rolled my eyes, but I knew he was right. I was going to tell him anyway. I told him everything. Even though I was close to Iggy and my sister, it was really Arthur who knew every little thing about me.

  “I wanted to sleep with him, so I did,” I said before picking up my coffee mug like it was no big deal.

  Silence for a beat and then a loud guffaw. I stared at my ex-valet.

  “Stop laughing, asshole,” I warned. “You work for me.”

  “Oh please. Like you’d ever fire me. Have you forgotten about the night you proposed to me?” His eyes were sparkling as he tried not to laugh.

  “I had appendicitis, and you distracted me from the pain with your stupid-assed stories. I remember thinking how good you are in a crisis. I still feel that way. You’re a good man to have around when the shit goes down,” I admitted.

  Arthur snorted. “You were so high on morphine, I couldn’t stop giggling. I regret not taking video. Could have made millions. You suggested at least twenty original names for my new puppy.”

  I stopped and looked at him. “Hell. What did you end up naming her?”

  “I’ve never had a puppy, Lio, and you know it.”

  We both laughed at that. It was a bit that never got old and reminded me he was right, of course. I’d have Arthur with me as long as he was willing or as long as I lived. He was one of the best men I knew.