Ruling the Princess
Page 32
Christian wasn’t in the mood for any of that. “He opens the door for food. For the maids. And, might I remind you, we don’t actually have a guillotine in this country. So why can’t Dr. Elonth force his way in, uninvited?”
“Why haven’t you?”
Fuuuuck.
Yes. Technically, if he threw Dr. Elonth under the bus as a coward for not breaking in to the king’s chambers, fairness would mean Christian acknowledging he’d submitted a change of address to be camped out under there himself.
Why hadn’t he? Or Genevieve? Or his gran?
Because it had happened so gradually. They’d kept waiting “a few more days” for King Julian to pick himself up out of this funk. Confronting the king meant acknowledging the severity of whatever kept him holed up in his rooms.
It almost felt like giving up on the strong, indefatigable leader. The man hadn’t crumpled under the pressure of his baby daughter disappearing or his wife’s ensuing suicide. He’d had the strength of ten men, the strength to hold their entire country together in rocky times.
Guess the crucial word there being “had.”
Past tense.
When Christian looked up, the sympathy in Kai’s eyes almost sent him over the edge. Which was not how he wanted to end this shitstorm of a day.
“You should call it a night,” he said abruptly. “Thanks for staying late to give me a hand with those last couple of meetings.”
“I can stay,” Kai demurred.
“So what—I can infect you with my misery? That’s a bad plan. I’ll head down to the pool and swim it off.” He stood, even shrugged out of his sport coat.
“As you wish. Good night, Your Highness.” Kai took the hint/command and left.
But Christian had no intention of swimming. Being alone with his thoughts would only lead to more wallowing.
No, what he needed was to get out of his head. Out of the subdued hush of Alcarsa Palace. Away from the reminders of title and responsibility and gravitas.
He needed to stop being the prince. Escape it all.
Which he knew exactly how to do.
Christian hooked his jacket over his shoulder and blasted through the door to his office. As he hurried past niches filled with marble busts and statues, his bodyguard fell in two steps behind. “Marko, I’m calling it a night. Batten down the hatches. Pull up the drawbridge.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Should I also set the Royal Dragon on watch?”
“Are you sassing me?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Keep it up and I might set you on moat-digging duty. A drawbridge would be a good addition to the palace.”
“Or you could upgrade the television in the staff lounge.”
“Aww, you want to watch my speeches in ninety-inch HD? I’m flattered.” With a laugh, Christian slipped into his suite of rooms. And kept going straight back to the last window in his bedroom. The one conveniently located by a maple tree—the very best tree for climbing. A quick peek confirmed that no recent trimming had cut off—literally—his escape route. He changed into shorts and a black tee and shimmied down the trunk, silvered by the moonlight.
Even though it felt sometimes like the Royal Protection Service kept him locked up in the palace, they concentrated on keeping people out. So it wasn’t hard for Christian to evade notice as he wove in and out of gardens to the mews. And the freedom of the motorcycle—and even more so, the anonymity conferred by its helmet.
Fifteen minutes later, he walked into his favorite bar. The one where nobody would photograph him or even approach him, unless it was to offer sympathy on the day’s soccer scores. The one where he could drink and laugh and shoot billiards and stuff his face with pretzels like a normal twenty-nine-year-old man.
And then Christian froze, right at the end of the bar. Because at the other end he spotted the gleaming auburn hair of his sister’s…pseudo-sister. The slightly uptight, mouth-wateringly beautiful woman who’d moved into his palace.
Mallory Wishner, who he thanked God was not in any way, shape, or form blood related to him, despite her sister-like bond of growing up with Kelsey.
This night was suddenly looking up.
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Acknowledgments
My sincere thanks to Heather Howland for adopting this series—and me, LOL. I couldn’t be happier about being under your wing! I’m also grateful to the entire Entangled team who puts so much effort into making my books look so good! Endless hugs to Jessica Alvarez for putting up with my barrage of random questions.
I could not have finished this manuscript (at least, not in a timely manner) without my monthly write-ins with Mary Vaughan—thanks for keeping me on track! I began writing this book almost the same time I began PT on my foot/ankle, so I was very happy that my therapists were so willing to let me ramble on about the plot as a distraction as they worked their painful magic on me. Stephanie St. Klaire, Cary Hart, T.K. Leigh, Bethany Lopez, Lauren Runow—you have all been so generous sharing your indie marketing brilliance with me to apply to this series. Drinks for everyone when we finally get together!
And most of all, thank you to all the readers who have embraced this quirky royal family—and the Americans in it. I appreciate you all so much for spending time with the House of Villani!
About the Author
Christi Barth earned a Masters degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning. Ultimately she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes award-winning contemporary romance, including the Naked Men and Aisle Bound series. Christi can always be found whipping up gourmet meals (for fun, honest!) or with her nose in a book. She lives in Maryland with the best husband in the world.
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