“Name them.”
“First, I’ll need fifty thousand dollars in cash the day after the wedding. You can deduct it from my final payment, but it has to be in cash.”
That should keep the orphanage safe until I can get out of here.
“Done. What else?” Guillermo asked.
“I’ll have to let my uncle know the truth.”
* * *
Once Juliette had signed the agreement, Armand placed the document into his leather binder, snapped it shut smartly, then asked, “May I show you to your room?”
Juliette nodded, her head still spinning a bit, and followed Armand out into the hall.
“I am so pleased that you agreed, miss,” Armand was practically beaming with delight. “Might I have a word in private?”
“Hmmm? Oh. Of course,” Juliette replied.
“Right this way,” Armand indicated a door at the end of the hall.
Unlike the spartan modern office they had just left, this room was positively regal. Two of the walls were lined with wooden shelves filled to the ceiling with books, punctuated by a yellow stone fireplace in the middle. Above the hearth, a painted portrait of a woman wearing a tiara gazed down into the room. On the wall farthest from the door, several diplomas and awards were hung behind an elegant mahogany desk. Two plush leather visitor’s chairs sat facing the desk; two comfy-looking couches were pushed against the bookcases.
“Wow,” Juliette breathed, taking it all in.
Armand closed the door. “This is the Solicitor General’s office. This room and the room we just left — the King’s Study — are the only two soundproofed rooms in the entire castle. This is important, you see. You should assume that any conversation you have outside of these two rooms will be overheard, especially if you are in the hallway. It is absolutely critical that you do not discuss any part of our agreement outside of these two rooms.”
Juliette had a sudden realization. “Wait. Are you saying that it’s just us three? No one from the rest of the staff knows about our deal?”
“Not just the staff. No one in the entire aristocracy knows, either — that includes the prince’s sister, Princess Sofia.”
“What about the separate bedrooms thing? Won’t that be a dead giveaway?”
“On the contrary, that is actually quite common among royalty. Kings and queens usually have their own bedrooms.”
“Hunh. Rich people problems…” Juliette trailed off.
“If I might be so bold,” Armand stepped forward.
“Yes?”
“Have fun with it.”
“Have… fun?”
“My dear, you are now the fiancée of his royal highness, Prince Guillermo of San Morrando. Hold your head high. Be proud. If you act like a hostage, people will see through our ruse and everything will be exposed.”
“Yes, but-”
“It matters not how you got here. The fact is, you are now the prince’s fiancée. You are living in a castle. You will have 2 personal maids assigned to you, a chef to make you whatever you want, a personal trainer, clothes, shoes, whatever you desire.”
“Except my freedom.”
Armand looked puzzled. “I believe we stated that you are free to do as you wish — in private, of course — so long as you keep our secret.”
“Armand, it’s prison,” Juliette stated flatly. “Oh, it’s a sumptuously decorated prison, but it’s still a prison.”
“Oh, no, my dear. You are not a prisoner.” Armand paused a moment in thought, then continued, “Might I suggest that you view yourself as a ‘contract employee?’ Work with us for one year and you’ll receive a paycheck at the end of your contract.”
“A contractor, eh? I didn’t think of it like that…” Juliette muttered.
“Miss Thierry, you truly are doing us an enormous favor. The politics behind this transition are staggeringly complex. I think, in time, the prince will realize this, too. Try not to judge him too harshly.”
That selfish bastard? Not bloody likely.
“I’ll try,” Juliette said aloud.
“Good!” Armand was pleased. “Now, I’ve taken the liberty of preparing your training schedule for the next 2 weeks.”
“My what?”
“Your training schedule, miss. The marriage and coronation are both lengthy ceremonies with roots dating back to the 13th century. Both are filled with arcane rituals that you will be expected to participate in. Did you know that the marriage is performed entirely in Latin?”
“I’m going to have to speak Latin? In public?”
“And there are the everyday social conventions expected of royalty: ballroom dancing, posture, table etiquette — just to name a few. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll introduce you to one of your personal maids.”
Oh my goodness, what have I gotten myself into?
Armand climbed the stairs to the second floor. “All of the bedrooms are up on the second floor. The servants are housed in the west wing of the castle, royalty and royal visitors in the east wing.”
At the top of the staircase, Armand took a left and walked briskly down the hall. Juliette noticed that the decor was different on the second floor: lots of purple, red, and gold. The carpet was plusher as well.
Finally, Armand paused in front of one of the doors and knocked.
“Yes?” The woman who answered the door was in her early 40s, dressed in a maid’s uniform, short blond hair, blue eyes, and a kind face.
“Alicia, this is the young lady I mentioned earlier,” Armand said.
Alicia’s face lit up. She opened the door wide. “Oh, yes! The secret fiancée!”
“Alicia, this is Juliette Thierry. Juliette, this is your new personal maid, Mistress of the Robes, Alicia Hidalgo.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Juliette gave a small bow.
“Please, call me Alicia. And, Armand, I’m only one of Juliette’s maids. Emilia will be around shortly to help. Oh, you’re such a pretty little thing, too. Tell me, do you need anything?”
Juliette drew a blank for a moment. How to answer? “Honestly, everything has happened so fast that I don’t have a thing to wear.”
“Don’t worry, dear. I’ll have Emilia stop by with some night clothes. Come. I’ll show you to your room.”
Juliette flung herself onto the bed and exhaled.
What a day!
Her bedroom was dignified and spacious. The hardwood floor was covered by a gigantic Persian rug. Her bed was a four poster with a purple silk canopy. A hand-crafted mahogany bookshelf/dresser combo lined an entire wall; drawers on the bottom, a long shelf in the middle, and bookshelves stretching up to the ceiling. The remaining walls were decorated with a red and gold wallpaper in a repeating fleur-de-lis pattern giving the room a regal feeling, though a little bit dated. There were 2 doors against the far wall: her bathroom and a walk-in closet — empty for now; to be filled once the royal tailors had her measurements (or so Alicia had promised).
She rose and inspected the windows. No alarm wires.
Good.
The windows were operated with a hand crank. She gave the handle a few turns, letting the cool September breeze into the room.
She picked up the schedule Armand had given her and sat on the side of the bed, reading. There was nothing scheduled for tomorrow but after that, it was packed from morning to night: an hour of etiquette, two hours of diction, an hour of Latin-
She paused as her eyes came to rest on the date 11 days from now: the Wedding Ceremony.
She tossed the schedule onto the bed and sighed.
All right. Decision time.
The sanest thing to do, by far, was to just get the hell out of there.
Once I’m outside, I could grab the emergency kit out of the castle ruins. This is an emergency after all…
No, wait. I can’t! If I leave, my cover’s blown. I’ll never be able to return to the flower shop again.
Wait. What am I saying? Even if I stay, I can never return to the flower shop again. Onc
e my name is released to the public, I’ll be mobbed by curious fans of the royal family. Oh, what to do!
She flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the silk canopy.
Maybe this won’t be so bad. As a member of the royal family, I’ll have access to all of the richest houses in the country. No, the richest houses in Europe! Think of the intelligence I could gather!
The problem is that damned prince. Who knew that a kind face hid such a wicked heart?
She rolled over and punched her pillow. “That jerk,” she mumbled.
Just then, she was startled by a quiet knock on her door. “Yes?” she said aloud.
The door opened and a cute young woman in her early twenties with a pixie cut, brown hair, and wearing in a maid’s uniform, poked her head in. “Miss? May I enter?”
“Yes, please, by all means.”
The maid entered and curtsied quickly.
Another curtsy!
“I’m Emilia, one of your personal assistants.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Juliette smiled.
“I apologize deeply but I’ve only just heard that you will be staying with us.”
“It’s all right, Emilia.” I’ve only just heard, too!
“I was told that you didn’t bring any clothes with you so I brought one of my flannel nightgowns. I’m afraid it’s not very glamorous-”
“No, Emilia, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
Emilia laid the striped nightgown on the bed next to Juliette. “Would you like some help getting undressed?”
“Not tonight. I’m afraid I’m very tired. Can we continue this in the morning?”
“Of course, ma’am.” Curtsy. “Sorry to trouble you, ma’am.” Curtsy. “I’ll be on my way.” She backed out of the room and closed the door behind her.
I guess I really am going to have to learn how to curtsy to survive around here!
Armand entered the King’s Study to find Prince Guillermo examining a photograph of Juliette. “She is beautiful, isn’t she, sir?”
“Hunh? Oh, yes, she is quite striking, actually,” Guillermo said, placing the photograph on the desk. “But that’s not it. Something seems… different about her.”
“Different, sir?”
Guillermo explained, “I’ve dealt with every manner of criminal in North Africa — the press calls them ‘warlords’ — and they’re all the same: selfish and feral, like part of their humanity is missing. You can do business with them — no, you have to do business with them if you want to get anything done — but it’s always the most unpleasant feeling. I wasn’t prepared for…” His eyes came to rest on the picture of Juliette. “I’ve never seen such passion in a negotiation before.”
“Are you having second thoughts, sir? Shall I call the guards?”
“What? No, no,” Guillermo insisted. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
Armand watched the prince and smiled. “I think you may have overlooked something in the young lady’s profile, sir.”
“What?”
Armand spread out the documentation on the desk, then pointed to the page he was looking for. “Her alias, sir. ‘The Robin Hood Robber.’”
“Robin Hood. That’s the old English legend. Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.” He spun around to face Armand. “You don’t mean-? Are you saying-? She gives the profits of her burglaries to the poor?”
Armand shrugged. “Unfortunately, I have no information beyond the name.”
“Really…” the prince gazed at the photo and whispered, “Just who do you give the money to, Juliette?”
Armand continued, “It could be just a name, of course.”
Guillermo shook his head. “No. No, something tells me that it’s not.”
“If it is true, sir, you may find that you have much more in common with the young lady than you realize.” Armand smiled wisely.
Chapter 4
“This is ridiculous,” Juliette fumed. “Where is my cell phone?”
“Please, calm down,” Armand implored. “Prince Guillermo feels-”
“That man!” she snapped. “Where is he? I want to give him a piece of my mind.”
“He has urgent business in town. He will be back by noon for our meeting.”
Juliette frowned. It was 9:15 the next morning. She was standing in the King’s Study with Armand. With nothing to wear but a ball gown, Emilia had once again lent Juliette some of her clothes: a simple red top with blue jeans. The jeans were a bit loose in the waist, but they fit well enough and were comfortable.
Calm down. Deep breath. It’s not Armand’s fault.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it the old fashioned way.”
“Very good, miss.”
Juliette reached for the landline and punched in François’ number.
Concentrate. Remember your French.
After 4 rings, François answered. “Hello?”
“Mon oncle! Ça va?” Juliette asked.
Come on, uncle! Please get the hint!
There was the slightest hesitation on the line, then François finally responded enthusiastically. “Ma chère! Ça va! It’s good to hear your voice. Are you well?”
He responded in French! Good, he got it.
“Yes, quite well actually. The most amazing thing has happened! Can you come to Palais d’Or today? At noon?”
“The castle? Of course! Do you need anything?”
Here goes…
“Could you bring my gym bag? The blue one?”
Please, uncle. Decipher the code!
François answered, “I understand. I’ll be there at noon.”
Juliette hung up.
Oh, uncle, please don’t do anything outrageous!
François stared at his cell phone and frowned.
“Was that her? Is she all right?” Philippe, a young stagehand, stood in front of François holding a small floodlight. All around him, busy circus performers and animal handlers were preparing for tonight’s show.
“She says she’s fine. She greeted me in French which is our code for ‘I’m being watched.’ But she also used the ‘blue’ code word and that means she’s safe. For now,” François grumbled the last part.
“What are you going to do?” Philippe asked.
François abruptly smiled. “My boy, I am going to Palais d’Or!” He slapped the confused young stagehand on the back and laughed. “Now… Where on earth am I going to find a blue gym bag?”
Juliette paced back and forth in the foyer of Palais d’Or, waiting for her uncle to arrive, her heels clicking softly on the purple and white Moroccan tile. Above her hung an ornate chandelier; behind her, a red carpeted staircase spiraled upwards to the second floor. The note she had scribbled for her uncle and now held secretly in the palm of her right hand was starting to get sweaty.
Armand stood patiently watching the driveway through the tall rectangular window next to the front door; Prince Guillermo was in the King’s Study, finishing up some last minute paperwork.
At 12:15, Juliette finally caught a glimpse of her uncle’s white Peugeot compact winding up the driveway. Armand opened the door for her and she bound outside.
As the car came to a sputtering stop, Juliette was already at the driver’s side door. “Uncle!” she smiled and threw her arms around François.
“Ma chère!” François returned the hug. As she was pulling away, Juliette deftly slipped the folded up note into François’ front left pants pocket; they exchanged glances.
“Ah! Before I forget, I have your gym bag.” François turned, reached across the driver’s seat and retrieved a blue gym bag.
“Oh, you remembered. Thank you. It all happened so suddenly that I have nothing to wear.”
“Monsieur Thierry?” Armand inquired. “I am Armand Trouard, the prince’s personal valet. The prince is waiting in the study. Would you follow me, please?”
“Of course,” François laughed, expertly playing the buffoon. “Ah, the Palais d’Or. I can hardly believe it!”
>
François followed the butler and Juliette inside. She appeared to be in good health, but François could tell that she was nervous.
Two royal guardsmen stood watch, one on either side of the opened front door. Even if he could overpower this Armand fellow, those guardsmen would be a problem. And even if he did succeed in getting Juliette in the car, how could he possibly get through the front gate? No, it was best to simply play along for now, then regroup to formulate a plan later.
The butler paused at an open door just off to the right of the foyer. “Monsieur François Thierry, sir.”
“Ah, yes,” Prince Guillermo appeared at the door. “Welcome! So you are Juliette’s uncle?”
François grasped the prince’s outstretched hand in both of his and shook. “It is an honor to meet you,” François smiled.
“Please, come in.”
Juliette, François, and Guillermo took a seat at the oval conference table while Armand closed the door.
“We can speak freely in here,” the prince began. “I know you must have questions so let me get right to it. I’m in a constitutional bind. I must have a wife or I cannot become king. However, I have no real interest in being king except to pass the throne along to my little sister. The problem is that my sister will not be old enough to assume the throne for another year. Thus, I need a wife — but only for one year. Juliette has agreed to help us out.”
“Has she, now?” François snarled.
“This is strictly a professional business arrangement,” the prince continued. “She will be paid handsomely for her time. A total of one hundred and fifty-one thousand U.S. dollars.”
François’ eyes narrowed.
So. There it is.
“That is an oddly specific amount, sir,” François stated.
“Is it?” Prince Guillermo responded.
The two men glared at each other in silence for several tense seconds until Juliette touched her uncle’s arm. His mood immediately softened.
Not here, not now.
François, suddenly burst out laughing, much to the surprise of the prince. “You have thought this out well, I see. But tell me, out of all of the women available to your highness, why choose my little Juliette?”
Princess Thief: Stealing Your Heart Page 3
