Princess Thief: Stealing Your Heart

by Jennifer Enander

  “That is a little more complex,” the prince explained. “The women of the court have certain… expectations. It would be almost inconceivable that I could find an aristocratic woman who would agree to my plan of giving up the throne in a year — or to stay married for just one year. And even if I were to find such a woman and marry her, at the end of the year, the pressure from her family would be immense. She might simply be unable to keep her word at that point. In addition, once the year is over, I plan to resume my humanitarian effort in North Africa. I will be there for quite some time, perhaps for many years. If I had a wife, we would be separated for that entire time. Any true marriage would be destined to be an unhappy one.”

  François nodded for a moment, then said, “I commend you, sir. Your logic is sound. If my little Juliette has agreed, I have no objections.”

  “Good!” the prince said, relieved. “You understand that this must be kept in the strictest confidence. No one outside of this room may ever know.”

  François extended his hand. “I will not reveal the details of your plan. On that, you have my word.”

  François and Guillermo shook hands. “Excellent. Well, we will have to continue getting acquainted at another time — an emergency came up this morning at one of the royal charities. Armand, will you show Monsieur Thierry out?”

  “Right this way, sir,” Armand motioned towards the door.

  Back at the car, Juliette gave François a quick hug, then said, “Don’t worry, uncle. I’ll be fine.”

  François, aware that many sets of eyes were upon him, smiled and said, “Of course my dear. I must be off. The circus awaits!”

  Two miles outside of Palais d’Or, François checked his rear view mirror one more time. Certain that he was not being followed, he pulled to the side of the road, reached into his left pocket, and read Juliette’s note.

  3:30 PM @ The Stables

  François pondered for a moment, then put his car in gear and headed towards town.

  Twenty minutes later, François pulled to a stop behind a service tent at the rear of the circus. Inside, two men were waiting for him: Philippe, the young stagehand, and Gaston, one of the animal wranglers. The tent had the unique scent of gun oil; Philippe was cleaning and reassembling a pistol.

  “Well?” Gaston asked.

  “There’s no doubt about it. She was caught,” François grimaced.

  “Shit!” Gaston exclaimed.

  François continued, “She’s unharmed, but they’ve come up with some half-baked scheme to hold her hostage in the castle for a year.”

  “What? Can they do that?”

  François waved his hand. “It’s far too complicated to explain. She did manage to pass me a note. We need to meet her at the royal stables by 3:30.”

  François exhaled deeply, running his hand through his salty brown hair. “All right, here’s what we’ll do. Gaston, get down to the farm in Pasto Verde and buy a truckload of hay. Tell Jacquot you need to borrow his truck and that he’ll have it back by sundown. Give him a deposit if you have to — free tickets, whatever it takes. We need a truck with the name of a farm painted on the side. Philippe, scrounge up 3 pairs of overalls for you, me, and Gaston — and something for Juliette to cover herself with.”

  Philippe locked the firing mechanism of the pistol into place with a metallic click, then asked “What’s the plan?”

  “We pose as delivery workers, drive to the royal stables, and get Juliette out of there.”

  Chapter 5

  Juliette dumped the contents of the blue backpack onto her bed. True to the plan, the bag contained her gym clothes and running shoes.

  Thank you, uncle.

  She squeezed the backpack gently and felt the familiar shape of a pair of night vision goggles sewn into a secret compartment. She smiled, then shoved the “empty” backpack into a drawer.

  After she changed, she went downstairs and found Armand. “If anyone asks, I’m going for a jog.”

  Armand hesitated, so Juliette pressed him. “Am I a prisoner or not?”

  Armand relented. “No. Of course not.”

  “Good,” she smiled. “I won’t be long.”

  The royal stables were impressive. The building was painted a bright red with white trim and covered by a gray shingle roof. Polished brass fixtures and hinges reflected the bright afternoon sunlight. Juliette learned in the days leading up to the royal ball that the cavernous building could comfortably hold 24 horses — though at the current time, only three were housed there.

  The two cameras mounted on the outside of the building were both aimed towards the practice track in front of the stables. The back of the building was unmonitored.

  Juliette jogged behind the stables and came to a stop. François, dressed in overalls and a blue denim baseball cap, was standing in the shadows.

  “What the hell happened?” François demanded.

  “I got caught,” Juliette shrugged. “They were waiting for me when I grabbed the necklace. They had an entire dossier on me — I’ve never seen anything like it. They knew about every single gem I’ve ever grabbed. I’m going to have to vary my strategy in the future.”

  “We can talk about that later. Here,” François held out a bag, “put these on. You can hide in the flatbed. We’ll cover you with straw until we get out of here.”

  Juliette pushed the bag away. “I’m not going.”

  “You can’t be serious!” François erupted. “That harebrained scheme of theirs will never work!”

  “You don’t know that. Besides, think about how much intel I can collect in a year! I will be visiting the best houses in Europe. It’s like they’re paying me to canvas targets.”

  “Intel? Canvas? Juliette, you’re a jewel thief, not a spy. You can’t pull off something like this. One little slip up and it’s over.”

  “But uncle, they’ll pay me in cash-”

  “No, I cannot allow it. It’s too dangerous. You don’t realize how treacherous the transfer of royal power can be, even in this day and age.”

  “You’re overreacting, uncle. We live under a constitutional government. Royalty has no real power.”

  “Royalty has tremendous power, child. You’re too young to understand. With the wealth they control, the influence they wield, they can shape the entire nation. This plan of yours might get you all killed.”

  “Uncle, if it gets too dangerous, I still have the emergency kit hidden in the castle ruins. I can escape at any time.”

  François wasn’t listening. “I should never have let you attempt this in the first place. I should have said 'no' at the flower shop straight away.”

  “But uncle-”

  “No, I’ve made up my mind.” François grabbed her left wrist. “Come on. We’re going.”

  “No. Uncle, no.”

  François began dragging her towards the truck.

  “Uncle! Please!“ Juliette begged. “The orphanage! Please! At least let me get the necklace!”

  Juliette tried to dig in her heels but her uncle was too strong.

  She began sobbing. “Please! Uncle! Don’t do this!”

  He pulled her forward.

  "Please!"

  Juliette struggled against him. She used her other hand to try and pry his fingers open but his grip was like iron.

  Finally, François relented and released his grip on her arm. Juliette collapsed to the ground; François stood over her, catching his breath. She silently wiped the tears from her eyes and waited.

  “All right, Juliette, I will give you one more chance. But I must have your solemn word on this: you will leave this place before the wedding, necklace or no necklace. Is that clear? Your solemn oath to me.”

  When her uncle spoke like that, when he truly became stern with her, her legs trembled — they always did. They trembled when she was a girl of 11, and they trembled today. Juliette looked him in the eye and promised, “I swear, uncle. I will return before the wedding, whether I have the necklace or not.”

&n
bsp; François turned his back to her and began to walk away, then stopped, and sighed heavily. “Oh, ma chère, why can’t you see that you’re far more valuable to me than any necklace could ever be?”

  He left.

  "Oh, uncle."

  Juliette burst into tears.

  She sat on the grass and bawled. She cried and cried, the tears flowing like raindrops, the stress of the last 24 hours pouring down her cheeks. The prince, the necklace, her capture, her uncle — all of it. She held nothing back, sobbing and sobbing until she ran dry.

  After several minutes, she felt numb. She was empty, all cried out. She had no more tears to give. She finally stood, sniffed twice, dried her eyes one last time, and began jogging back towards the house.

  When she rounded the corner of the old castle ruins, she saw a figure in the distance. As she approached, she realized that it was her personal maid, Alicia, looking distressed.

  I wonder what’s wrong?

  When, Alicia saw her, she gave a relieved smile and waved. “Miss Juliette! Over here, please!”

  Surprised, Juliette jogged over to her.

  Alicia rushed up to her and blurted out, “I’ve been looking for you- oh dear!” The maid’s expression changed to concern. “Are you all right?”

  Juliette realized that she probably still looked like a mess: puffy eyes, red nose, smeared makeup. It must be obvious that she had been crying. “I- well-” Juliette stammered.

  Shoot! What do I say?

  Alicia smiled gently, “Never mind. It’s all right. Let’s get you cleaned up. Follow me, please, miss.”

  Relieved at not having to make up yet another lie, Juliette followed Alicia towards the rear of the castle.

  “Everyone’s waiting in the drawing room for you,” Alicia said over her shoulder. “You have to choose your new tiara.”

  “My tiara! I completely forgot!”

  “Well, the men are just going to have to wait until the lady is ready to make her appearance. I know a place where you can get ready without a lot of prying eyes on you.”

  Juliette followed Alicia around the back of the building and through the employee’s entrance. Boxes of supplies were stacked along one wall; a dirty white apron hung from a hook near the door. At the end of a short hallway, Alicia turned right and pushed open a door marked “Women.”

  Inside was the women’s employee locker room; a simple wooden bench was situated in front of a row of pink lockers. Beyond that, a shower stall with frosted glass. To the left, a long vanity with space enough for three to sit side by side. “You can freshen up here, miss. No one will see you. It will be our little secret.”

  “Alicia,” Juliette touched the maid’s forearm. “Thank you.”

  “It’s no problem, miss. I can only imagine how overwhelming this must be.” Alicia patted Juliette’s hand. “Please, get cleaned up. There are fresh towels in the corner. And you’ll find every manner of conditioner and shampoo in the shower. I’ll fetch you a change of clothes.”

  Alicia left Juliette alone. Juliette quickly got undressed and hopped in the shower. She turned the knob to hot and stood beneath the spray, letting the water wash all of the dirt away. She felt as if the water refilled her, cleansed her spirit as well as her body.

  She located a bottle of shampoo that was very close to her own brand. As she washed her hair, she closed her eyes; somewhere in the back of her mind, Juliette realized the absurdity of being fitted for a tiara before being fitted for clothes, but she no longer had the energy to muster up any sort of outrage or annoyance. It’s Palais d’Or and that’s all.

  “I’ve brought you some clean underwear.”

  Alicia’s voice snapped her back to reality.

  “I had to borrow from Emilia. It won’t be perfect but you two are so close to the same size, I hope you’ll be fine. I also took the liberty of retrieving your ball gown from last evening,” Alicia said. “I’ll just hang it here.”

  Juliette laughed. “But of course! What else would you wear to get a tiara fitted?” Both ladies giggled.

  Juliette stepped out the shower, dried, and got dressed. As she was patting her hair with a towel, Alicia poked her head into the room. “Can I come in?”

  “Please,” Juliette responded.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying so but you have absolutely lovely hair. Might I help you with it?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Juliette sat in front of the vanity mirror as Alicia got to work. First, she finished patting down her hair with a towel, then began brushing with long flowing strokes. She then flipped on the hair dryer and began brushing and blow-drying at the same time. Juliette began to feel drowsy and closed her eyes.

  “There. I think that will do,” Alicia announced.

  Juliette opened her eyes. “Oh, yes, Alicia, that’s just the way I like it. You did an excellent job.”

  “Thank you, miss,” Alicia beamed. “Now, let me see…” She rummaged around in a drawer for a moment, then produced a plastic makeup case. “Here you go. This one is unopened. The manufacturers send samples like this to the castle all the time.”

  “Oh!” Juliette said. “I’ve always wanted to try that brand!”

  Juliette spent the next five minutes on her makeup, wishing she had fifty more to experiment with all of the new palettes.

  “Now, that looks like a princess,” Alicia smiled. “All right. Let’s get you to the drawing room. The men will be going mad with anticipation.”

  As Alicia led the way through the castle, Juliette noticed the strangest reactions from the people they passed. First, they would stop talking. Then, their faces would freeze in surprise. Then they would bow slightly to her. It all made Juliette blush.

  “Alicia,” Juliette whispered. “Did they just bow to me?”

  “And why not?” Alicia responded. “You are the prince’s fiancée after all.”

  Alicia stopped at the doorway to the drawing room and motioned for Juliette to wait. Juliette could hear the prince speaking on the other side of the door. “Where is she, Armand?” The obvious aggravation in his voice made Juliette smile.

  Alicia threw open the double doors and announced, “Your highness, gentlemen: Miss Juliette Thierry.”

  Juliette smiled shyly and stepped into the room. In the center was a large, full length mirror. To the right stood Prince Guillermo and Armand. To the left were two men she didn’t recognize, both thin, one young, one old, and both wearing powdered wigs and black tails. The young man blushed when he saw her, his mouth agape.

  Armand stepped forward, smiling. “You look lovely, my dear. Doesn’t she, sir?”

  Guillermo cleared his throat, “Yes, well, let’s get this show on the road.”

  Armand led her into the room and introduced her to the two men wearing wigs. “This gentleman is the royal jeweler, Señor Lorenzo Rohner, and this is his apprentice, Señor Cristobal Tous.”

  “It’s a pleasure, miss,” Señor Rohner bowed.

  “H-h-how do you do?” Señor Tous stammered.

  Juliette giggled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

  Señor Rohner spoke, “If you would step in front of the mirror, miss, so we can get started?”

  “Yes, of course. Is here OK?”

  “That’s fine, miss.” Señor Tous wheeled over a small cart with several tiaras arranged on it. Señor Rohner picked up the first one. “This piece is based on the bridal tiara that Napoleon gave to Empress Josephine of France.”

  “It’s lovely,” Juliette said.

  “You’ll notice the tiara contains dozens of pearls and three cameos. Allow me.” Señor Rohner set the tiara on Juliette’s head. She turned and looked at herself in the mirror.

  “No, no, Lorenzo. We want a tiara, not a crown,” Guillermo snapped.

  Juliette caught Guillermo’s eye in the mirror and gave a brief frown. Much to her irritation, he didn’t react at all.

  “Very good, sir.” Señor Rohner gently lifted the tiara from Juliette’s head
and set it back on the cart.

  “This next piece has a platinum design that unfurls in the ‘extending clouds’ style. It was crafted from platinum and encrusted it with diamonds. You’ll notice the large crescent and star pattern at its center.”

  “It’s very lovely,” Juliette said. Señor Rohner placed the tiara on her head.

  Juliette gazed at herself in the mirror, moving her head ever so slightly to the right and left, making the platinum and diamonds sparkle.

  “Too old fashioned,” Guillermo criticized. “Let’s try another one.”

  “Very good, sir.” Juliette bowed her head slightly so that Señor Rohner could remove the tiara, then shot a look at Guillermo. He chuckled at her.

  Señor Rohner stooped down and retrieved a third tiara from the bottom shelf. “This might be more to your highness’ tastes.” He showed the tiara to Juliette. “This is a beautiful but rather unconventional piece. It includes over two dozen flower buds made with hundreds of small diamond brilliants and polished moonstones. Notice how the buds are set into a lattice of leaves and branches? These are hand-engraved 18 carat white gold.”

  “It’s stunning,” Juliette gushed. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Juliette turned the tiara over in her hands. The design reminded her of the type of wreath that would be placed on the head of an Ancient Greek goddess.

  “May I?” Señor Rohner inquired.

  “Please,” Juliette handed the tiara back to Señor Rohner, then leaned forward so that the jeweler could place it on her head. She turned to face the mirror.

  “That’s it,” Guillermo interjected. “That’s the one.”

  Juliette’s smile widened. Even she had to agree: yes, this one was perfect.

  She stood in the royal drawing room, gazing at her reflection in the full length mirror, wearing a tiara and an emerald green ball gown, and looking every bit like a royal princess.

  Chapter 6

  “Excuse me, miss? Your breakfast is ready.”

  Juliette opened her sleepy eyes and grunted, struggling to make sense of the images before her: dark stained wooden door, Persian rug, pink pillowcase. With a jolt, she suddenly remembered: