Princess Thief: Stealing Your Heart

by Jennifer Enander

  When she glanced at the castle, she paused.

  Is that Juliette running inside? Is she crying?

  Sofia sped up her pace, somewhat concerned.

  What has that bonehead Memo done now?

  As if on cue, Guillermo appeared from around the corner, scowling as he stomped into the castle.

  Oh God. What now?

  Since she was covered in mud, Sofia veered towards the side entrance; she didn’t want to track dirt through the foyer and all over the carpets. Slipping out of her boots, she headed straight for the women’s locker room and hopped in the shower. She dressed quickly in simple everyday clothing, jeans and a t-shirt, the kind of thing she would wear around her college dorm.

  As soon as she stepped out of the locker room and into the hallway, she could hear the familiar buzz that accompanied a big event at Palais d’Or: something had definitely happened.

  Two teenage waitstaff that Sofia didn’t recognize walked past. “So is it off?” the first girl asked.

  “The wedding? It must be, right?” the second girl replied.

  “Ohhhhh, that’s too bad. It was such a fairy tale.”

  “I know. And she was so pretty, too.”

  The two girls turned the corner. Before Sofia could even take two steps to follow, one of Juliette’s personal maids rounded the corner heading in the opposite direction. “Emilia?” Sofia called out to her.

  “Oh! Yes, miss,” Emilia bowed quickly.

  “What’s going on? Has anything happened with Juliette?”

  “I’ve only just come back from running errands, miss, so I’m afraid I don’t know much. It appears there’s been some sort of argument. I’m sorry — I really must go,” Emilia bowed again and practically sprinted away before Sofia could ask another question.

  Sofia began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Brother, what have you done?

  Juliette sat on the edge of her bed, weeping and blowing her nose.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  It was all over now. Everything was ruined.

  What was I thinking?! If I hadn’t tried to save the country, if I’d just grabbed the necklace when I had the chance! Now… I’ve got nothing.

  She sobbed when she thought of it.

  All of this trouble and nothing to show for it. How could I let the orphanage down?!

  She shook her head and pounded her fist into her leg.

  Nothing to do now but wait, I suppose.

  She stood, sniffling, and pulled her backpack out of the drawer. It seemed odd that in a room filled with luxuries, the only clothes that were truly hers were her workout clothes — the clothes that François had brought over on her very first day at the castle — and the simple powder blue sun dress and white tennis shoes that she wore to prepare the ballroom for the Royal Ball. Barely a week had passed since then but so much had happened, it felt like a year.

  In the blink of an eye, it’s all gone.

  She changed into the sun dress and packed the rest.

  As she was zipping up her backpack, finally, it came: the dreaded knock on the door. No doubt it was Armand and two of the royal guardsmen, ready to escort her out of the castle for good.

  “Just a minute!” she called out, then headed to the bathroom to splash water on her face. She patted dry, then looked at herself in the mirror. “My makeup may be gone, but I’ll be damned if I let them see me cry,” she whispered.

  All right. Let’s do this.

  “Coming!” she yelled. She headed towards the door, ready to meet her fate.

  Emilia shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot.

  “Well, girl? Spit it out,” Lady Olivia commanded. “What did our girl do today?”

  Emilia was standing in the drawing room of Casa Amsel, the mansion where her father was employed. The room was dark, even with the curtains open; stained wooden floors, wood paneled walls, a white animal fur sprawled out before a dormant fireplace; the heads of various horned animals hung against plaques, their glass eyes lifelessly watching over the room. Four leather chairs were situated around a coffee table; three of these chairs were occupied by Lady Olivia, Lady Roslynne, and Countess Marie.

  “Yes, miss,” Emilia said, looking down at the tops of her shoes. “Miss Juliette woke up early and asked to see some law books about the coronation. I wrote down two of the titles,” she rummaged around in her pocket and produced a scrap of yellow paper. “’The Royal Laws’ and ‘The History of the Monarchy of San Morrando,’” she read aloud.

  “Go on,” Lady Olivia ordered.

  “Yes, miss. Miss Juliette then met with the Solicitor General for an hour. In the afternoon, Miss Juliette and Prince Guillermo went for a walk in the garden together. I was sent to run errands so I don’t know exactly what happened but when I returned, I was told that there had been an argument and to stay clear of Miss Juliette’s room for the time being.”

  “Oh?” Lady Olivia asked. “Anything else?”

  “No, miss. May I go now?”

  Lady Olivia nodded and shooed her away with the back of her hand. “Yes, you may go. You’re doing a wonderful job. Keep helping your father.”

  “Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.” Emilia backed out of the room and closed the door. She walked to her car wiping away bitter tears with the back of her hand, hating herself for feeling so dirty.

  “Another meaningless report,” Marie sighed. “She sleeps, she studies, she eats, she has a spat…”

  “You’re wasting your time with these daily updates, Olivia,” Roslynne agreed.

  “On the contrary, I found it very interesting,” Olivia grinned from ear to ear.

  “What is it, Olivia?” Marie asked.

  “Don’t you see? The flower shop girl got cold feet. The wedding is off!” Olivia clapped her hands with glee.

  Marie and Roslynne looked at each other, puzzled.

  Olivia leaned forward in her chair. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious. You saw how nervous she was at our dinner last night, right? She almost cracked under the pressure right then and there. My guess is that after the party last night, she realized that she can’t possibly go through with the wedding. She decided that she wants to back out of the marriage but she doesn’t want to keep Guillermo from being crowned the king. So, she read those law books about the coronation and met with the Solicitor General.

  “Now, we can assume that the Solicitor General told Juliette what the three of us have known all along — that there is no law regarding marriage before coronation. Naturally, when she heard that-”

  “Oh! So then the fight-” Roslynne interrupted.

  “Was the break up!” Olivia finished the thought. “Yes, I’m sure of it!”

  The three ladies sat in silence, letting the enormity of the revelation sink in.

  “So, Guillermo is single again, eh?” Roslynne finally spoke. “What are you going to do, Olivia?”

  “Do? Why, marry Guillermo and become the princess, of course.”

  “Oh! Congratulations, Olivia,” Marie chimed in.

  “’Princess Olivia,’” Roslynne spoke with admiration. “I can’t believe this is finally going to happen.”

  Olivia fell silent, her brow furrowed in thought.

  “What is it, Olivia?” Roslynne asked.

  “Actually, there might be a way to become the princess without having to marry Guillermo at all…” she mumbled, then stood up, excited. “Oh, this is too good. Too good!” she squealed.

  “What is?” Roslynne asked.

  “Do you know what a pincer movement is?” Olivia asked. “It’s a tank formation from World War II — oh, never mind. I don’t have time to explain it. We must act quickly! I must see Daddy immediately. We can use this. One way or another, that crown will be mine!”

  Olivia threw open the door and marched into the hallway. “Daddy?! Daddy!”

  Marie looked at Roslynne, dumbfounded. Roslynne simply shrugged her shoulders and said, “Who knows?”

  �
��Coming!” Juliette repeated. She faced the door, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and turned the knob.

  “Sofia?”

  Princess Sofia was standing in the hallway with a sheepish look on her face. “Can we talk?”

  “O-Of course,” Juliette ushered the princess into the room. “I was expecting… it doesn’t matter.” Once she closed the door and took a look at Sofia — those kind blue eyes filled with concern, her exquisite beauty like a porcelain doll even in a simple t-shirt and jeans, her naive expression — the tears returned and she instinctively pulled the princess close.

  “So something did happen,” Sofia muttered.

  Juliette nodded. “It’s over.” She sniffed. “It’s all over.”

  “Can you tell me about it?”

  Juliette gazed at her, hesitated, then realized that there really was no way to tell Sofia the whole story without hurting her. She could imagine Sofia saying, “Why don’t you think I’d be a good queen?” — or words to that effect. Better to leave things unsaid. “We had a fight, that’s all. I’m going to be leaving soon. I don’t know when we’ll see each other again, but I want you to-”

  “Leaving?!” Sofia rolled her eyes and groaned. “You are not leaving.”

  Juliette nodded sadly. “I’m afraid I am.”

  A glint came to Sofia’s eye. “Over my dead body. Listen, Juliette, don’t do anything rash until I’ve had time to sort this out.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Beat him with a stick if I have to,” Sofia seethed.

  “No, Sofia,” Juliette shook her head. “I don’t want you to get involved.” She couldn’t stand the thought that her argument with Guillermo might damage the relationship that Sofia had with her brother.

  “Oh my God — both of you are so stubborn! You’re perfect for each other!” Sofia threw her hands in the air and headed for the door. She paused, then turned to face Juliette again. “Please, don’t give up on him. I know that he can be pig-headed and dense sometimes. But he needs you. Please, give him a second chance.”

  “Oh, Sofia, I-”

  Sofia held up her hand. “That’s an order as your royal sovereign,” she grinned.

  Juliette giggled through her tears. “Well, when you put it like that…”

  Sofia grabbed Juliette’s hands in hers and squeezed. “Don’t do anything foolish, okay?”

  Juliette nodded.

  The glint returned to Sofia’s eye. “Now, where is my idiot brother?”

  Chapter 14

  Guillermo sat alone in the King’s Study, brooding. He rested his head against the high-backed leather chair and stared absently out the window towards the royal stables.

  I was a fool and I got what I deserved. Why did I trust a thief? Am I really that desperate?

  “You asked to see me, sir?” Armand entered the King’s Study and closed the door behind him.

  “Ah, Armand,” Guillermo snapped out of his daydream. “The deal is off. We won’t be using Juliette any more. I’ve asked her to leave the castle.”

  “Oh, I am sorry, sir. Might I inquire as to why?”

  Guillermo waved his hand, “In a word, ‘greed.’ The same thing that has happened with every woman I know. They get a taste of Palais d’Or and they don’t want to let it go.”

  “Really, sir?” Armand raised an eyebrow. “I would never have guessed Miss Juliette would behave that way.”

  “Yes, well, anyway, it’s over. We’ll just have to go with Plan B.”

  “Yes, sir,” Armand replied, disappointment obvious in his voice.

  “See that she’s paid for her trouble — whatever you think is fair. Give her all the time she needs to pack and go.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “Now, we’ll need to fabricate some sort of press release for the morning, something to explain her sudden departure. Maybe a sick relative-”

  Suddenly, the door swung open with so much force that it banged against the wall. Sofia stood in the doorway, her eyes burning with rage.

  “Armand. Leave us,” she barked.

  “Yes, miss.” Armand stifled a smile and bowed, then quickly left the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Sofia stood, hands on hips, towering over her seated brother, and yelled, “What the hell did you say to Juliette?”

  “It’s none of your business, Sofia.”

  “That girl is up there crying her eyes out. Now, you get up there and apologize this instant.”

  “There’s no need,” Guillermo replied. “There’s nothing to apologize for. We’ve decided to go our separate ways.”

  “’We’ decided? Don’t you mean that you decided?”

  “Sofia, you’re too young to understand-”

  “Oh, I understand. I understand perfectly. That woman is the best thing to happen to you in years. You need to fix this. Now.”

  “Oh?” Guillermo grew defensive. “And just what do you know about Juliette?”

  “I know that you need her. I know that you love her. I know that she’s completely different to the stuck up bitches who usually wander these halls.”

  Guillermo showed her an ugly smile, one without any humor. “Oh? You think you know Juliette, do you? What if I told you I caught your precious Juliette stealing our mother’s-”

  Sofia hauled back and slapped Memo with all of her might. She shook her index finger in his face. “Not. Another. Word.”

  Guillermo gazed in shock at his little sister.

  When Sofia spoke again, her voice was quiet, almost monotone. “I don’t know where Juliette came from. I don’t know what awful things she had to do to survive — and I don’t care. I don’t know what ridiculous scheme you concocted to get her to agree to all of this.

  “All I know is that you’ve been given the most wonderful gift in the world: a real woman. Not some fake robot who agrees with every word you say and worships you like a bronze idol. A real flesh-and-blood woman with opinions and feelings and intelligence and inner strength.”

  She took a breath; tears of frustration began to flow down her cheeks. “And if you don’t get up there and apologize right now, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”

  Sofia abruptly turned around, flung the door open and stormed out, leaving the door swinging slowly back and forth on its hinges.

  Guillermo sat motionless, mouth agape, and stared blankly into the foyer.

  Eventually, Armand appeared in the doorway. “Sir?”

  “Armand.” Guillermo gazed at his valet. “Sofia thinks I’m making a mistake.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “She thinks I’m in love.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “With Juliette.”

  “That would be my assumption, sir.”

  “Maybe I… I’m not saying I did make a mistake, of course, but… Is it possible I misread things?”

  “The universe is filled with endless possibilities, sir.”

  “Could Juliette be right? Would I be the better monarch? Am I just shoving my problems onto Sofia?”

  “It does seem rather rushed, sir.”

  Guillermo got a faraway look in his eyes. “It sounds crazy, Armand, but for a brief moment, when Juliette and I were talking in the garden, I had this… glimpse of what my life would be like as king… and it seemed quite fulfilling, actually, as if I could truly make a difference to the people of San Morrando.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then she called me a selfish jackass and ran off.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sure that’s exactly how it happened, sir.”

  Guillermo ran his hand through his jet black hair. “I… I need to think more about this. Perhaps… perhaps remaining on as king wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

  “Very good, sir,” Armand beamed. “About Miss Juliette, sir.”

  “Oh! Yes. I must… Something must be done.”

  “Perhaps a note, sir?”

  “Yes. A note. Good idea.” Guillermo grabbed a legal
pad and a pen and began scribbling. “No. Wait. What am I doing? A note won’t fix this. I need something grandiose, Armand.”

  “As you wish, sir. However, might I suggest a brief note to allay her fears? She must still think that you want her to move out of the castle.”

  “Oh! Yes, of course.” Guillermo tore off a fresh sheet of paper and scribbled a few lines, then folded the paper in half and handed it to Armand. “Take that to her right away, will you, Armand?”

  “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

  “And then come right back. We have some planning to do.”

  Juliette stood in the castle foyer and took one last look at Guillermo’s note:

  “I’m sorry. Please let me apologize. Meet me in the garden at 8PM.”

  She folded up the paper and stuck it into her pocket.

  Why am I doing this? I hope this isn’t a trick. I’m not sure I can handle another argument. Maybe I should just go.

  She took a deep, centering breath in through her nose and exhaled slowly through pursed lips.

  Focus, Juliette. Relax.

  She bravely stepped out the front door and headed towards the Royal Garden.

  As she approached the garden path, dramatically, the floodlights turned on, illuminating the entire garden in white light. To her left, a string quartet dressed in black tuxedos began to play. Directly in front of her stood Guillermo wearing a white tuxedo with white pants, a black vest, and a black bow tie. He was holding a long stemmed red rose which he offered to her with a confident smile.

  “I may have overreacted,” he said.

  Juliette laughed and accepted the rose. “Thank you.”

  “May I have this dance?”

  Juliette nodded and took his hand. They danced together under the stars, gazing into each others’ eyes. Juliette would look up at him standing so tall and proud and handsome and feel her cheeks getting flushed. Guillermo beamed at her, happy to have such a wonderful woman in his arms.

  The first piece ended and the string quartet switched to a slow, sensual song. Guillermo pulled Juliette close while they danced, their bodies pressed together. Juliette’s heart pounded; she pressed her cheek against his chest and matched his rhythm; her thoughts were instantly forgotten, enjoying the dance, just being with this man.