Pieter’s distance, the wary way he held himself, brought tears, and she found herself sniffling as they stepped apart.
"I'm sorry," she said, wiping away the few tears that fell.
Pieter looked as if he had no idea what to do with her tears. His eyes were wide, almost panicked.
Gideon chuckled and motioned the other man to sit down. Pieter took a wingback chair, leaving her and Gideon the sofa.
"I've been curious about you for a long time," she said. "I wanted to know you."
Pieter's expression was shuttered, but she had to believe she saw something like relief pass through his dark eyes.
"I've long wondered about you as well."
Gideon's phone buzzed from his hip pocket, and he excused himself to take the call. She didn't miss the tense lines around his face. She watched Gideon pace back and forth in front of the window on the opposite side of the room. His voice was low, and she couldn't hear what he was saying, but his expression grew more and more concerned.
She forced herself to concentrate on her cousin. "Gideon tells me you’ve someone special."
He lit up from within, though he remained reserved. It reminded her of her own expression in the mirror when she thought about Gideon and how much she loved him.
"It's very new—" Pieter started.
"We've got a problem," Gideon thundered, rushing back across the room. He reached for Alessandra, and she found herself being pulled to her feet before she even knew what was happening.
Gideon leveled a pointed finger on Pieter. "Your mother is missing. She's escaped the mental institution, and the orderly who helped her says she's bent on destroying the royal family."
Pieter looked as stunned as she felt. "I spoke to her last week. How could she have just left?"
Gideon squeezed Alessandra's elbow. "Perhaps you should've taken more precautions before you left the country."
She wanted to shush him, to keep him from wrecking the budding relationship with her cousin with his suspicions and protective nature, but he was already pulling her from the room. She knew he'd be on high alert, and she'd be in lockdown mode until he could pull in enough security to feel a modicum of safety again.
Why this? Why now?
10
McKenna stood "backstage" just before the fashion event of the pageant was about to begin, trying to calm her racing heart.
Each contestant would be called on stage, where she'd have to model her own fashion statement in western wear. The host judge would ask one question, drawn randomly from a pool of questions, and the contestant would have to answer in front of all these people. Then the contestants would line up on the long stage.
They had to wait, in front of everyone, as final scores were tabulated.
And then the new queen would be announced.
This was it.
Everything she'd worked for depended on this event. Although the scores for the horsemanship rounds and private interviews weren’t publicized, she knew that without a good score in the fashion round, it would be impossible to win.
She was thankful her cousins hadn’t shown back up, though she wondered if they’d returned home or were still waiting to watch her fail.
A cool hand touched her forearm, and she turned to fine Danielle at her elbow.
"I'm so nervous," the young woman whispered.
"But you've done this hundreds of times."
"Doesn't mean it gets any easier to walk out there and be judged on your appearance."
They shared a knowing look.
When the second round of the horsemanship competition had resumed yesterday, Danielle had found her. She'd thought maybe the young woman was looking for gossip, wanting to know what had happened with McKenna's cousins, but she'd been utterly surprised when Danielle had checked to see if she was all right.
Like a friend might.
When Danielle had found out McKenna didn’t have any place to stay, she had offered a second bunk in her travel trailer, and McKenna had accepted, knowing she couldn't displace Pieter from his bed again.
Plus, after the kiss she'd delivered to him, she didn't know how to classify their relationship.
She'd been proud to be beside him at breakfast, but she’d had to leave to check on Maximus at the arena. She'd heard too many horror stories of horses injuring themselves because of being in unfamiliar surroundings. She wasn’t about to leave him for long.
She didn't know whether she and Pieter could move forward from here. He was a prince. He was reconciling with his royal cousins.
And she had her own mission. First university, then law school.
"He's here," Danielle said, as if she knew who was on McKenna's mind. "About halfway up the stands, left side of the aisle."
McKenna peeked through a crack in the heavy curtain and caught sight of Pieter.
He'd come to see the final event. Because he cared for her, or just to see it through?
She didn't know, and there wasn't time to dwell on it, because the rest of the contestants were lining up behind the curtain. It was time to strut her stuff.
She had no strut, and she barely had any stuff.
But she wore the best charming smile she could muster as she walked onstage.
"First runner up… McKenna Hastings!"
First runner up.
It wasn't what she wanted, but it was something.
Pieter watched as she graciously hugged the winning rodeo queen. Her smile seemed genuine.
Would she be disappointed? Excited? She'd beat out thirty other women, so she should be pleased. He waited in the stands as the other competitors and their families dispersed and the arena began to clear out.
He watched her talking to the young woman who'd called security the day before. They seemed to be friends now, and he knew that McKenna needed one.
Now the question remained...did McKenna need him? Did she have room in her life for a reformed prince?
He hung back near the bottom of the stands, and then finally she walked toward him. Her makeup was impeccable. The western-style long denim skirt with all its sparkles and a simple snap shirt accentuated her trim shape.
Her face was alight, though he read the slight disappointment beneath.
"Congratulations," he said, reaching out to take both of her hands in his.
She let him, which was one relief.
"I know it isn't what you wanted, but this could be a start for you."
She smiled, and her lips trembled a little. "Danielle...well, she made me an offer. She said I could travel along with her and her mom, bunk with them. They're hitting nearly every big pageant this season."
His insides squeezed hard. So she could still chase her dream.
He twisted his family crest ring. "That's wonderful."
Her brows crinkled. "What's the matter?"
"I have to visit Glorvaird." It was the last thing he wanted to say.
Her countenance fell. "Oh."
"It's my mother. She's disappeared."
McKenna's eyes widened. "Oh no."
"Oh yes," he said. "From what I can gather, she coerced one of the orderlies to help her, and she just walked out of the institution. I've tried calling her, phoning some of her local friends"—not that there were many—"but she's simply vanished."
"I bet your cousin wasn't happy."
"No." But it hadn’t been Alessandra’s reaction that bothered him. Gideon was the one he'd been slightly afraid of. After the soldier had told him the news, they'd descended into a shouting match until Alessandra had calmed her husband.
Gideon couldn't possibly blame him any more than Pieter blamed himself. He'd missed calls from the institution, telling him of Mother's escape. If he'd checked his messages sooner, would he have been able to rush home and find her before she'd completely disappeared?
There was a part of him that wanted to let it all go. Why did he have to be responsible for Mother? Wasn't she an adult, responsible for herself? He was so weary of it… Hadn't he suffered long enough? Of course,
he knew she wasn't sane. Couldn't be expected to watch over herself.
McKenna seemed to understand his conflicting emotions. Her eyes were soft and compassionate.
Then her lips trembled slightly. "I'll pray for you to find her quickly. And for your peace."
He hated this. "I wish…" He swallowed against the hot knot in his throat that wanted to choke him.
She squeezed his hand, and he couldn't face the innocence in her eyes.
He looked down. "I wish things were different." That he was different.
The hall had slowly emptied around them. It was silent now, enough so he heard her soft sigh. "We both know we have to play the hand we're dealt."
He screwed up all his courage and met her eyes. "I'd like to…" Darn, this was hard. "We've only known each other a couple of days, but I think it's safe to say I'm falling in love with you."
Soft color crept into her face. "Me too."
Relief smacked him in the solar plexus and made it hard to breathe. He maneuvered her into a loose embrace, leaning his forehead to hers.
"I should probably try to talk you out of your feelings," he said, "but I'm too selfish for that." He breathed in deeply, trying to memorize her scent. "You've got a bright future—big things ahead. I don't want to take any of that from you. And I've still got to travel to Glovaird. But I'd really like it if you'd wear my ring. As a…promise."
She inhaled sharply as he let go of her to pry the gold ring from his finger. His hands were trembling. He knew he didn't deserve her, but by some miracle, she seemed to want him.
She allowed him to slip the ring on her fourth finger, and he curled her hand in his to admire his family's crest against her skin.
He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. "Until I can replace it with another kind of ring."
Her lashes were clumped with tears as she smiled up at him. He was happy—the happiest he'd ever been in his life—and found himself smiling like an idiot.
"Isn't this the part where you kiss me?" she asked.
"I'm trying not to mess anything up," he returned. He would work harder than he ever had, make whatever sacrifices he had to make, if it meant keeping McKenna for his own.
Her hands curled around his neck, and her fingers threaded into the hair at his nape. "Then I definitely think you'd better kiss me."
So he did.
Epilogue
Three weeks after Alessandra’s return to Glorvaird, Crown Princess Eloise sat in the family parlor in the centuries-old castle, listening to her two younger sisters argue. The DNA test for the barrel racer named Cindy had come up negative, leaving them without a lead as to their missing half sister.
But what the two sisters argued about now was of much less importance.
"Lilies are prettier," Mia said.
"But roses are classic," Alessandra returned.
Eloise's future brother-in-law, Gideon, walked in to the room, pocketing his cell phone and frowning fiercely. He'd been particularly intense since the princesses' aunt had gone underground after sneaking out of a mental ward where she'd been held for her own protection.
He moved to stand behind Alessandra, resting one hand on her shoulder, as if she were his touchstone. Alessandra looked up at him briefly, their gazes connecting.
Eloise had to look away, heart pounding uncomfortably against her sternum. She was happy for Alessandra, really she was. But seeing how deeply her sister was loved was a stark reminder of everything Eloise didn't have.
And never would.
She forced herself to concentrate on Gideon’s words. "…we'll add a dozen guards for the grounds and another half dozen to check in the guests. Do you think that’ll be enough men that it won't slow down traffic into the church?"
"Gideon, is that really necessary?" Alessandra asked. "We don't want the guests to feel as though they are going through security at an airport."
"There haven't been any credible threats, even with Aunty Beatrice on the lam," Mia said.
Gideon shot her a look. "If we let our guard down, we'll be vulnerable."
Eloise tuned them out. Her gaze drifted to the hallway. Father had promised to come down for a bit for family time, but it was already half an hour past his usual time.
Father's nurse stuck her head around the doorway and shook her head slightly.
Father wasn't coming.
The others didn't notice. Mia's husband Ethan had joined her on the sofa, and they spoke together quietly, heads bent close together. Alessandra and Gideon continued to argue, though Eloise knew Gideon was only concerned for his soon-to-be wife. Alessandra would relent, because she knew the same thing.
Eloise couldn't help the jealousy that speared through her.
It was a ridiculous emotion, one she wished she could eradicate.
Father was dying. There was no disguising the way his health had declined in the past few weeks. And while her sisters were wrapped up in their own lives with new husbands, Eloise remained alone and would soon have the pressure of ruling the kingdom on her shoulders entirely.
A kingdom of citizens who despised her. Some refused to look at her when she made public appearances.
Wild, hot emotion welled up inside her, and before she realized what she was doing, Eloise was on her feet.
"Enough," she screamed.
Mia jumped. The room went silent. Gideon's hand closed over Alessandra's shoulder protectively.
"None of your petty problems matter," she fumed. She didn't really mean the words but couldn't stop the audible flow of emotions.
Mia blinked, her eyes now glistening.
Before she could do any more damage, Eloise rushed from the room.
She ran through the castle's stone halls, brushing past a housekeeper before ducking through one of the servant's halls and out into the salty sea breeze on the private beach.
She gulped in breath after breath of the briny air, but it didn't help calm her roiling emotions.
It wouldn't be long now. Alessandra and Mia put up with her outbursts because they wanted to stay close to Father as his health declined. Once he was gone, what reason did they have to stay with their monster of a sister?
Soon she would end up all alone, alone with her beastly temper and what staff she could keep on.
She hated herself. Hated that she couldn't change things. Hated the scars that defined her life and had for years.
She'd wanted what her sisters had. Desperately, throughout her lonely teen years, she wanted someone to love her.
But who could ever love a beastly princess like her?
The Beastly Princess
1
A royal wedding was a media circus.
Eloise hated it, and she wasn't even the bride.
What made it infinitely worse was the criticism the press had spewed continually about the royal family.
She had perhaps ten more minutes of privacy before she would need to face the five hundred pairs of eyes eager to look at her, to judge her.
She used her fingertips to flip through the newspapers that covered the desk in her private office, part of her suite of rooms in the royal palace.
Royal Family Reveals King's Terminal Diagnosis.
Who’s Really Been Running the Royal Family?
The Beastly Princess Strikes Again.
Reporters were having the time of their lives criticizing her family and the way they ruled the kingdom, but they didn't understand the inner workings of her family. Not at all.
No one could know how much she feared being in the public eye, how much she detested it. How much she'd wished her father would live forever, instead of succumbing to the multiple sclerosis that kept him bound to his own suite of rooms.
Leaving the crown to her.
Lately, there had been rumblings from the royal council. The small group of men and women who assisted the royal family also advised Glorvaird’s parliament. They were sensitive to the criticism in the media, and the council had been suggesting that they might take a proposal to the
parliament that would change the laws that had been in place for centuries—and put her sister Alessandra on the throne.
At seventeen, Eloise had read the entire Glorvaird constitution, trying to find a way out. Unless there was a major change—like what the council was proposing—the law did not allow her to abdicate. While her younger sister, Alessandra, was much better suited to the public eye than Eloise was, she hadn’t spent years learning the kingdom, like Eloise had.
There were sensitive trade agreements in play. Taxation that if weighted too heavily might crush the small businesses that were the backbone of their kingdom. Relationships with other national leaders that had been cultivated carefully over many years. Alessandra couldn’t just step into being the reigning royal.
No, Eloise’s people needed her too much.
But how could she rule when she loathed being seen by those very people she had the duty to?
The intercom on her desk phone buzzed. "Your highness? We're ready for you."
She shook away her melancholic thoughts as best she could and pressed another button on the phone. "I'll be right down."
She smoothed the floor-length skirt of the elegant gown her stylist had chosen for her. She'd been plucked, powdered, pulled every direction in the two-hour marathon makeup and hair session. She trusted they'd done what they could to improve her appearance. Nothing helped, nothing ever would.
She avoided the wall-mounted mirror as she exited her rooms into the hallway.
She could only pray that her ugliness wouldn’t ruin Alessandra’s perfect day. Her sister was deeply in love with her cowboy groom and deserved the very best on this day.
This would be Eloise's longest public appearance since her coronation as crown princess on her eighteenth birthday. She still had the scathing tabloid headlines from that event tucked in an envelope in her bottom desk drawer. They'd called her scars horribly ugly, nasty, and one publication had even written cringe-worthy.
Today, she wouldn't be standing up for her sister as a bridesmaid, though she'd wanted to.
She must represent the crown in her father's absence, so she'd watch from the first pew in the huge cathedral where her parents and grandparents had been married. Where she, as an innocent little girl, had dreamed of being married.
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