Letters from a Prince: The Royals of Heledia (Book 1)

by Hart, Victoria

  But that’s what this weekend could be for. No moves, no games. Just trying to figure it all out. Because if I was going to do this, it was going to be real. It wasn’t going to be some kind of flirtatious fling or a story to tell Jennifer on Monday. I’d known Nik since childhood. This needed to be real and serious. Which I could totally do. Probably. Yeah.

  I was so beyond incredibly doomed and I didn’t even know it yet. The weekend was only just beginning.

  * * *

  After the coffee stop, which Nik insisted was not nearly as bad as he’d been lead to believe, we made plans for the night. He said he wanted to try real American food. I explained to him that American food is really just these bastardized versions of food from other countries, but he insisted on it anyway. So our first stop was Mexican.

  “Well, we kind of differentiate it,” I explained over our table basket of chips and cups of salsa. “Like real Mexican food you get in fancy restaurants with mood lighting. This is ‘Tex Mex.’”

  “Tex Mex?”

  “Yeah, like ‘Texas.’ It’s like invented by Americans after what we think Mexican food is supposed to be.”

  “I assume that means it involves a lot of frying and fat.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and tossed a chip in his direction. He caught it and dipped it into the salsa and into his mouth with a flourish.

  “I’ve never really had truly spicy food,” he said. “Food in Heledia is tangy and has flavorful spices, but nothing meant to burn the feeling out of your tongue.”

  “Would you like to know a fun fact about spicy food?”

  “When have I ever said no to one of your fun facts?”

  “Well, the chili pepper has something like double the amount of vitamin C as an orange, right? But it’s got these enzymes in it that cause the nerve endings in mammals to react as if they’d been physically burned, to keep said mammals from eating it. Evolution defense mechanism right?” I said, a little too proudly, and my ego grew even bigger as I continued. “But, here’s the best part. We out-evolved the pepper. Our body craved the vitamin C, so to deal with the painful enzymes the brain releases endorphins and by way of classical conditioning, you crave that painful, spicy flavor.”

  “Maybe my father was wrong about American schools,” Nik said, impressed. “Maybe I should be looking at your Ivy League universities for college next fall.”

  “I wouldn’t object.”

  We talked about other random things over sips of our sodas. Nik was used to a very different type of soda drink in Heledia. I had tried it once. It was a disgustingly bitter soda from Italy that he absolutely loved. So our sugar-filled glasses of pure sweet cola weren’t exactly up his alley but he seemed to enjoy it more and more as the dinner went on. He especially enjoyed it when it was the only relief in sight after taking an overzealous bite into a burrito full of jalapeños.

  I tried to hide my laugh when he glared in my direction and we ordered ice cream for dessert to soothe his burned tongue.

  “Well you lost your spice virginity,” I laughed and immediately heard what I’d just said and wanted to die. Nik just rolled his eyes with a smile.

  * * *

  After that we took a walk around the town. We’d already used up our dessert for the night on ice cream at the restaurant but he was fascinated by virtually every storefront we saw and was adamant that he wanted to try American candy when he saw the labels. We ducked into a convenience store and he began grabbing the boxes of Buncha Crunch and gummy bears.

  “With a haul like this we should sneak them into a movie,” I joked.

  “Movie?”

  “Yeah, that’s basically movie candy right there. People always buy it somewhere else and then sneak it in because the movie theaters charge a crazy amount for food and stuff there.”

  “What kind of movies?”

  Nik had often been an attendee at film festivals. There were constantly pictures of him with famous people, attending intelligent films that I’d probably have to watch with subtitles. American action movies were a guilty pleasure for him, though. He had been obsessed with Indiana Jones for as long as I could remember, and had decided to go as Luke Skywalker one year to a Halloween party at school.

  I walked him to the local movie theater and was rattling off the list of movies I could remember that were out, when I heard someone call my name.

  I turned, and there was Jennifer. Oh. Oh, crap.

  “Hey there, girlie!” She greeted me like we were friends, and I couldn’t help but get a tiny bit excited at it, forgetting that Nik was right next to me. “You catching a movie?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “We’re still picking.”

  “Well if you guys need suggestions then you and uh…”

  She trailed off as she finally caught sight of who was standing next to me. My prayers that she wouldn’t recognize him were dashed instantly when her eyes blew wide and her mouth dropped open into the greatest “o” of surprised I’d ever seen. Time to go.

  “We’ll think of one,” I said hastily, grabbing Nik’s arm and backing away. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Oh, you bet you will.”

  I tried not to cringe, but Nik seemed to find it all hilarious.

  * * *

  The next day was all about monuments. Nik was flying home early the following morning, but had drawn up a list of the things he absolutely wanted to see, since he knew there would be no way to hit them all.

  “You Americans treat your capital city very strangely,” he said.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked, trying not to lurch forward too hard when the car came to a rather sudden halt.

  “In my country, and other places in Europe, the capitals are all ancient and old. But you created this one and shoved it full of trophies for yourself,” he said. “It’s not bad or anything, just very different.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t be America otherwise.”

  We got out and started a walk around the National Mall, our security guards right there behind us. We started at the giant spire of the Washington Monument and took a weird selfie at the base of it, which he insisted I make my Instagram profile picture. We took a walk around the Reflection Pool, stopping to look at the White House and read the names on the several war monuments around the shore. We made our way to the Lincoln Memorial and he read the speech engraved in stone on the far end.

  After we walked back around we got lunch downtown at a Chinese place, since Nik insisted American Chinese take-out was next on his list of American food to try. We ate dumplings and General Tso’s chicken on the steps outside the arena where the Capitals played, and he started talking about American sports while I rolled my eyes.

  That night, he actually made the plans.

  He wanted to go to an observatory that was a little bit outside the city. He arranged the drive with his security and my parents okayed it as long as I called them when I got there and when we were planning on leaving. I tried not to look embarrassed but Nik said my parents were like my own security escort.

  At the observatory he’d booked an hour in the telescope room with one of the astronomers on duty. I felt a thrill of pleasure – he’d remembered how I loved the stars.

  “It’s a good clear night for this,” the man said. He looked every bit the part of astronomer with a tweed jacket and glasses. “Sometimes I get reservations and the cloud ceiling is just dreadful. But, we’re in luck. First bit on our list is to take a look at Saturn.”

  We each took turns looking through the eye of the scope at the stars he pointed out, and we were in mutual awe.

  “The one thing this city doesn’t have,” he whispered in my ear as I stared up at the stars through the telescope. “No stars. Except for one, I suppose. It’s my favorite.”

  I swallowed thickly as I pulled back from the lens but was too afraid to look at him. I could feel how close he still was behind me. The professor was off to the side doing some kind of calculation on his computer. All I had to do was take
a half step back and I’d be flush to Nik’s chest. He must have known that and wasn’t moving. I told myself I wasn’t going to pass out.

  Eventually he did step away and allow me to back up from the telescope. And when I turned to face him his eyes were smoldering. This was such torture, I deserved a medal.

  I made the promised called to my parents before we left and when I put the phone in my pocket he came up to me again, inches from my face.

  “I’ve had a great time, Isabel,” he said softly. “I wish it could be longer. I much prefer this than sharing you at parties.”

  I tried not to let my feelings show through. At least the night sky would hide my blushing face. He probably knew how I felt, though.

  “I—uh—me too,” I stammered, and he chuckled.

  “I’d like to see more of you, if we can, just you,” he said. “I’m not sure how yet, but we can figure it out. You—um—you want that too, right?”

  I turned and saw that the heated look of a confident prince had gone. Right now, he was a nervous wreck of a teenage boy who was doing his best to ask a girl out, and he was terrified. If anything, it was ten times more endearing than the playboy whispers he’d been giving me moments ago.

  And it made my chest soar, just a little bit. He really did like me. Like, actually like me. So much so that it made him nervous – and I’d seen him forced to give speeches before on international television. So I did the best thing I could think to do: I smiled at him. And then I nodded.

  He looked so relieved, and he rushed forward to hug me, and placed a soft kiss on my cheek just as our car pulled around. On the ride home I watched out of the corner of my eye as his hand inched closer and closer to mine across the space between us in the back seat. By the time we pulled up to my house, his pinkie was sitting just next to mine. I tried not to smile.

  This time, when he said goodnight to me and went in for what I assumed was another kiss on the cheek, it ended up being placed lightly on my lips. In my surprise, I almost missed it, and when I opened my eyes he was already disappearing behind the door.

  Best day ever.

  * * *

  Sometimes things don’t always go so well, though. For one, the paparazzi photos hit the Internet and newsstands early the next morning. I’m not sure how or why, but over the next week or two, there we were on the cover of several magazines. The next worst thing that happened was that Jess wouldn’t talk to me. I knew I should have told her, and maybe sent her at least one text over the weekend, but I was too wrapped up in it all.

  So I instantly became famous for running around DC in secret with a prince and my best friend wasn’t talking to me because I kept secrets from her. It was a pretty crappy situation to go into the next school week with.

  In the hallways I got stares and a couple of my teachers gave me disapproving looks. Jennifer wouldn’t stop talking to me during homeroom and invited me to all sorts of parties and dinners she was having with her friends. She was asking me about schools and telling me which sorority I should pledge to.

  The worst of it, however, wasn’t even happening to me. Halfway across the world, King Alexandru had a bad boating accident during the annual yacht festival in one of their famous harbors. His prognosis was grim and Nikolas – one of my oldest and best friends, and possibly my first boyfriend – was about to become king.

  Chapter 4

  My mom always says that when there are problems, it’s best to start with what you know. And after Nik’s father had his accident, what I knew was this: Nik was halfway across the world, time zones and languages away.

  I also knew that Alexandru had participated in the sailboat race portion of the yacht festival in Old George Harbor. It harkened back to some ancient tradition when Greek soldiers would race single-man boats across the small bay that would later become the city’s harbor. It had become something like a mixture of Heledia’s own personal Olympic Games and a playground for the old money of the country. Towns would send their best seamen and rich families would drink cocktails on the decks of their boats, which cost more than most houses.

  I had gone to one, once, when I was very small and Nik had been staying back at school. It was boring, and something my father insisted I would appreciate better now that I was older.

  I knew I certainly didn’t appreciate it right now.

  I also knew there was a collision during the race. The entire world had their eyes on him as doctors did what they could to try and help his father. They released some gory details I wished I could forget. Ruptured organs, broken bones, swelling brain tissue. I didn’t want to think of Alexandru like that. He had been the picture of joy and welcome the entire time I’d known him. I didn’t want to think of him bruised and bloated and bloody, attached to wires and cables and beeping machines and needles injecting fluids. I felt terrible for Nik, for his mother, and for Sonia.

  But that was on another continent, practically in another world. I had something at home I had to deal with, also.

  Because there was one last thing I knew: Jess was not talking to me.

  I couldn’t blame her. She’d entirely slipped my mind that morning I was dragged out of bed to go meet Nik at the airport. And I should have said something to her throughout the day. He was her friend too, however informal and new that was. We could have gotten coffee or lunch, or I could have invited her to the movie.

  But the truth was, I hadn’t wanted to. I liked the idea of having him all to myself. All my life I’d had to share him with my parents, with guests at parties, with the terrible, lusty stares of Selene, with the media, with the world. For once, he was just my own, and I hadn’t wanted to give that up.

  “Listen, it’s whatever, I’ll get over it,” Jess said.

  “We both know this passive aggressive bullshit you pull is not going to lead to you getting over anything,” I shot back.

  We were sitting in the bagel shop. It was too small a place for voices as loud as ours were getting, but that particular sulky attitude had always gotten to me. Today it was making my blood boil.

  “Fine, let’s talk about the fact that you didn’t respond to a single text I sent all weekend. Which I get, and it’s fine. I’m not about to be whiny and pathetic about it,” she said, “but you were hiding from me to go out with a guy? Really? We’ve never done that.”

  “Is it so bad to want something for myself for once?”

  “He’s a human being, you can’t own him.”

  “I know that. I was just so sick of sharing time with him my entire life, it was nice to have something normal for once. Newsflash, he’s still a prince. And not the fairytale kind. He’s going to go off and be a politician and leader and not have time for the random daughter of an American diplomat.”

  “So playing make believe on borrowed time was your solution to all this?”

  I slumped back and rolled my eyes. If my coffee wasn’t so scalding hot I would have thrown it back and stalked out, to prove a point. But instead I sat there and glowered. It wasn’t my proudest moment. “You don’t need to be a part of every single thing in my life, Jess,” I said. “I include you because you’re my friend, but you had to know one day we’d cut the cord, just a little.”

  That had been the wrong thing to say, and I knew it. Even in the moment I regretted the exact words I used, but maybe not the sentiment. It had been there, the elephant in the room since the beginning. My family wasn’t rich, but there was a certain divide. Jess always did grow wide-eyed at the entertainment center in the living room, or if I got a new computer for Christmas. She was jealous of how I was able to get the latest iPhone days after it was released.

  She looked at me like she could read every single one of those thoughts running through my mind in a little bubble over my head. She glared, nodding. Then she got up, took her coffee, and walked out. I felt utterly and completely terrible.

  I tried to ignore the eyes of people watching me. I knew they’d all heard a fair portion of the argument and I was honestly surprised no on
e had thrown us out for how loud we’d been. But it was mostly men, and if there was one thing men feared, it was raging teenage girls.

  So I sat there, as dignified as one could pretend to be after a fight where your friend walks out on you. I drank my sugared-up coffee in the most graceful silence I could manage.

  Turns out, starting with what you know doesn’t always work as well as hoped. So I retreated even more. I got home, threw on a pair of pajamas, and sat with my computer all day, staring into the Netflix void. That was until it stopped working in the middle of my 15-episode binge. I groaned.

  * * *

  With the failure of my attempts to gain any sort of control over the situation, I actually looked forward to the distraction of school. It was like when you got to the end of summer and had essentially used up all the ways you could waste your time during the day and were craving someone to tell you what to do outside of the four walls of your bedroom.

  So on Monday I woke up three minutes before my alarm went off. I took that extra three minutes in the shower, thinking about everything while my conditioner worked its magic. I wanted to bang my head against the cream-colored tiles of the bathroom wall.

  I put on the outfit I’d picked out the night before. I actually ate breakfast that morning, trying to ignore the sounds of the TV in the living room, which would likely play at least one news story on Alexandru’s failing health. They were no British royal family, but the world enjoyed it when rich and powerful people met with misfortune.

  “I didn’t even have to threaten to spritz you with cold water this morning,” my mom said, as she set out some cups of coffee on the kitchen table. “And you having more than half a Pop-Tart for breakfast is almost unsettling.”