Royal Mistake #6 Page 14

  My lips find hers again, and she seems to melt against me. I tighten my grip on her as my tongue traces her lower lip before plunging deep into her mouth. She moans, a sound that vibrates through me, before abruptly pulling back. The bits of skin I can see around her mask are flushed red.

  “Don’t start anything we can’t finish,” she says breathlessly. “Even if no one here recognizes you, I imagine we probably shouldn’t tear each other’s clothes off in the middle of the street.”

  “Let them watch,” I say, pulling her toward me and kissing her again.

  She returns the kiss for a moment before pulling away again, laughing.

  “Come on,” she says. “I want to see the rest of the festival.”

  I can’t deny her anything. Smiling, I lace my fingers through hers. “Anything you wish.”

  I lead her back out into the crowd. All around us, people are laughing and even dancing. Many people are wearing street clothes, but just as many are dressed in costumes and masks as we are. Colors and movement and cheer surround us.

  The crowds grow thicker as we near the main square of the city. The edges of the streets are lined with vendors selling everything from masks to roasted nuts to mugs of cider—with a splash of the finest Montovian spirits, of course. Music floats toward us from at least three different directions—we encourage all manner of street performers at the Festival—but the real show is in the main square.

  “Would you care for something to eat or drink?” I ask her.

  “I am a little hungry,” she admits. “What do you recommend?”

  “It’s not the Salt Festival without some traditional Montovian salted bread,” I say.

  She grins. “Then salted bread it is.”

  I pull her through the throngs of people toward a stall along the sidewalk. A round-faced woman stands beneath a bright blue-and-gold awning, serving steaming, nut-studded rolls to the festival-goers around her. It takes some maneuvering, but I finally manage to find us a place in front of the stall.

  “Two please,” I say.

  “Right away, sir.” She turns and grabs two more of the warm, golden rolls. Coarse grains of salt have been sprinkled over the top.

  When she turns back to us with our rolls, I slip her a banknote.

  “No change,” I tell her, taking one of the rolls and passing it to Victoria.

  The woman looks down at the note, then back up at me. Then again—this time with wide eyes.

  “Your Highness,” she says, her round cheeks going even redder.

  My stomach clenches, and I wait for it—for her judgment, her censure of my recent actions. But though she doesn’t exactly look pleased to see me, she doesn’t look unhappy, either—though perhaps my generous tip has more to do with that than anything else.

  “Congratulations,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “For recognizing me, you receive a royal token.” I reach into the bag hanging from my belt and grab one of the little prizes—a little chocolate coin pressed with the royal coat of arms. I’ll admit I feel a little queasy handing out a prize with the royal seal emblazoned on the front, but there’s nothing to be done about it.

  The woman looks down at the chocolate again before looking back up at me. Then her eyes slide behind me—to Victoria.

  She leans forward, dropping her voice slightly. “Is that her?”

  Her. How exactly do I answer that?

  Before I can formulate a proper reply, the woman goes on. “I know it’s not my place to say so, Your Highness, but I’m glad you’re not marrying that Princess Justine. Seemed a shame to sacrifice you to that vile family. No disrespect meant, of course.” Her eyes flick back to Victoria. “Of course, I think most of us were hoping you’d marry a Montovian girl, but the heart wants what it wants, doesn’t it?” Her mouth tilts up into a smile. “First Leopold, and now you. What is it about these American girls that interests you brothers so?” She gives a little shake of her head, still smiling, then tries to hand my money back to me. “No charge for you, Your Highness.”

  I refuse to take it back. “If you won’t keep it, then use it on someone else. Pass on the Festival spirit.”

  Her smile grows even wider. “Very well, Your Highness.”

  “Happy Festival,” I say, backing away from the stall.

  For a moment, she looks like she wants to continue our conversation, but fortunately, another customer calls for her attention. I use her distraction to slip away with Victoria, pull her into a doorway, away from the crowd. Victoria’s already been nibbling at her roll, and she takes another bite.

  “This is delicious,” she says.

  I take a bite of my own, relishing the salty, nutty taste on my tongue.

  My thoughts, however, are on the woman behind the table. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about my recent life decisions…but she wasn’t cruel, either. In fact, our little conversation gives me hope—hope that the people of this country will come to forgive me, that they might even come to be happy for me.

  For us.

  Victoria is taking another bite of her roll. She’s being incredibly quiet—even though I’m certain she heard my entire conversation with the baker.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask her.

  “I’m thinking I need about three more of these. It’s so good.”

  “Is that all?”

  She looks up at me, lowering her piece of bread. “I think…I’m glad I’m wearing a mask. And that I won’t have to hear most people’s thoughts about me.” She looks down at her drink. “I knew some people wouldn’t be happy about you marrying an American—and I definitely understand—but it’s still hard to hear.” Her eyes rise to mine again. “I never really expected to be in a situation where people would be judging me from all sides. She wasn’t even mean about it, but…that’s what my life is going to be now, isn’t it? Everyone in this country is going to have an opinion about me. About whether or not I’m suitable for you.”

  “Yes,” I say, knowing better than to deny the truth. “But they will quickly come to see that you are the best thing to ever happen to me—and when they truly get to know you, they will see that you will make the best queen Montovia could ever hope for.”

  She winces a little when I say the word queen. “It’s just a lot all at once.”

  “And you won’t have to endure it alone,” I say.

  She nods. “I know. It’ll just take some getting used to, that’s all.” She takes another bite. “And we haven’t even officially announced our engagement yet. We still can’t even say for sure that we will get married—”

  I silence her with a finger against her lips. “We will. We will marry, no matter what I have to do to make that happen.” I reach down and take her free hand, the one still wearing the pearl engagement ring. “Nothing will stop me from becoming your husband. From devoting the rest of my life to you.”

  She smiles and tastes her bread again, finishing it off with a few bites. Without releasing her hand, I do the same.

  “Now,” I say, “why don’t we forget about everyone else for tonight and enjoy the festival?”

  She nods, and I lead her toward the main square. The music is getting louder and louder, and people cheer and hum along as they skip and dance their way through the streets.

  “Care to dance?” I ask her.

  “Okay,” she says, smiling beneath her mask.

  When we reach the main square, I pull her right out into the middle, where a number of couples are already swinging each other around in time to the vibrant melody. On the far end of the square, a small temporary stage has been erected, and a group of some of the finest musicians in Europe sway as they play a lively reel.

  I take both of Victoria’s hands and swing her out into the crowd, and then we’re moving among the other dancers, turning and spinning together. Somehow, we seem to know exactly how to move together. As we dance, the worry seems to leave her face. With every passing minute, her smile gets larger and larger, and something sparkles in her eyes.<
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  “What is it?” I ask her as I spin her around.

  “Nothing,” she says. “I was just thinking about how this is much nicer than the last time we danced.”

  I frown. “The last time?”

  “At the state dinner.” She looks at me pointedly before twirling beneath my outstretched arm.

  The state dinner. Memories of that night come flooding back, and my stomach clenches. I wasn’t exactly cordial to her that night. In fact, I was quite the opposite.

  “Victoria, I—”

  “Need to apologize? Why yes you do.” She stops right in front of me, looking up. “And I can think of a few other ways you might make it up to me.” She stands up on her toes and gives me a soft kiss on the tip of my nose.

  Someone bumps into me from behind—we shouldn’t have stopped in the middle of the dancers. But I don’t care. I take Victoria in my arms.

  “Name it,” I tell her huskily. “Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

  “And make it easy for you?” She grins. “That, Your Highness, would ruin all the fun.”

  Before I can stop her, she pulls out of my arms. A pair of dancers twirls toward us, but instead of moving back toward me, she steps away, letting them pass between us.

  “You want to make it up to me?” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “Come catch me. When you find me, I’ll tell you exactly what you can do.”

  Before I can fully register what she’s doing, she turns—and runs.

  In a flash, she disappears behind another pair of dancers. And then she’s in the crowd, a splash of blue in a sea of color.

  I try to run forward, then nearly collide with another couple. I avoid the collision, but when my eyes go back to where Victoria was, I no longer see any trace of her. She’s disappeared into the crowd.

  “Victoria!” I call.

  My shout draws the attention of a few nearby revelers, and I realize I must be more discreet if I’m going to remain anonymous.

  I shake my head. She knows exactly what she’s doing, the little minx. But if she wants to play this game, then I am more than willing to play along.

  I find myself grinning as I stride through the crowd. Yes, I will find her. And when I catch her, I won’t let her out of my arms all night.

  Victoria

  It’s pretty clear within a few moments that Andrew has lost me in the crowd. I stop running, instead taking my time to admire the many multi-colored costumes and the intricate displays all over the square.

  I’m not even sure where I’m going, but I somehow find my way to the same path Andrew and I had been on only a few days ago—the one right next to the riverbank. There are far fewer people here, though the area is still decorated as much as the more crowded parts of the town square. Twinkling white lights are twined around each tree and the path is illuminated with small lanterns every few feet.

  It truly feels like something from a fairy tale.

  I gaze out over the river, listening to it lap at the nearby shore.

  I could definitely learn to love this place. I’m already falling in love with it. I can only hope the people here will accept me as I am and not judge me too harshly for the things I’ve done. For the person I used to be.

  Something twists in my chest—guilt. A feeling I know all too well. How did I not see it before? How did I not understand that I helped to create the mess I find myself in now? When I had first come here, I had thought the Montovian laws preventing celebrity reporting were antiquated and unfair—a perversion of the freedoms I had grown so accustomed to. Part of me still thinks they are somewhat outdated and unfair, but the part being judged by the public understands precisely why they have those laws in place here. It’s not to keep people from knowing things about the family that rules—it’s to protect them from harm. From unfair criticism and judgment.

  There’s nothing I can do to make the people here not judge me—I’ve given them plenty of fodder already to have years of criticism for the things I’ve done and the choices I’ve made. And I hate to admit it, but part of the reason I want to win that fencing tournament so badly has more to do with winning the hearts of the people Andrew cares so deeply about and far less to do with winning back the royal scepter.

  And if I should lose… I suppose there’s little harm in trying. If I lose, I’ll only be laughed at behind my back all the more. It isn’t as though everyone in Montovia has their hopes pinned on me to win back their national symbol. After all, I’m a woman, and Montovia has never even had a women’s fencing team.

  I never saw myself as a leader in women’s rights, either, but maybe there are things I can do for this country. Hadn’t Andrew mentioned wanting me to start a local chapter for the Girl Scouts at one point? Maybe I can do something here—something that matters and makes a difference. Something more than writing tabloid stories about the royal family, not that there’s much chance of me being able to write those ever again.

  My thoughts are interrupted when I feel Andrew’s arms slide around my waist from behind. He pulls me against him and tips his head to my ear. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  I smile, turning to him to place a chaste kiss on his lips before I pull away. “It didn’t take you long to find me.”

  He walks to my side, pulling my hand into his and gazing out over the river with me. “What are you thinking about, standing here all alone, Victoria?” He turns to me with a grin. “How I might show you how truly sorry I am for the abominable way I treated you at the state dinner?”

  I chuckle and shake my head, turning back to look out over the water. “No, that’s not necessary. Though, I think I mentioned to you before how I used to fantasize about dancing with you.”

  “Did you?” He turns, pulling my hands into his so I’m facing him again. “I don’t believe I recall hearing such a thing. Because I do want to hear about all your fantasies, Victoria.”

  I smile. “Maybe it’s because I told you when we were still suffering from the trauma of our ordeal.”

  “Our…?” He pauses, looking into my eyes for a moment before his smile falls. “Yes, our ordeal. It’s amazing how long ago it seems now. Though, in many ways—”

  “It seems like only yesterday?”

  He nods. “Yes. Though, with you in my arms, I seem to forget everything else. Particularly that incident.” He places my hands on his shoulders and slides his arms around my waist to begin dancing with me. “I do believe I owe you a dance, however.”

  “I’m sure at the next state dinner—”

  “No, not at the next state dinner.” He leans forward, kissing my lips gently before pulling away again. “No, our dance together is long overdue.” He pulls me more tightly against him, and I rest my head against his chest, swaying in time to the music only we can hear.

  I close my eyes, listening to his heart as I press my ear to his chest. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything close to this before—there’s no need for anything else. Everything about this moment is enough. He is enough.

  This has to be love. Everything is so warm and perfect and…enough.

  After a few minutes of pure peace, he pulls away just enough to look down into my eyes. He pulls my mask away from my face—I had forgotten it was even there—before pulling his own up and setting it on top of his head. His hand slides down to my ass as he dips his head to kiss me again—

  “There you are.” Sophia’s voice rings over my shoulder. She sounds out of breath and hurries up behind us. “My God…I’ve been…looking everywhere…” She’s doubled over, her outstretched hand on her brother’s arm. “I…I…”

  Andrew turns to face her. “Sophia, what is it?”

  “I…” She stands and pulls her mask away from her face. Even in the dim light, I can see the puffiness around her eyes. “I’ve been searching for you. You…you didn’t answer…you didn’t answer your mobile.”

  He stares at her for a second. “I didn’t bring my mobile tonight. I…I didn’t think I would need it…” He pauses. “
What’s going on, Sophia? Is it Father? What’s happened?”

  She shakes her head. “It’s not Father. It’s…it’s Nicholas. You need to come quickly.” She motions toward the main square. “He…he’s…” She heaves another breath. “You need to hurry. Before he kills someone.”

  Andrew releases me from his grasp and takes Sophia’s hand in his as they hurry back to the crowd. Whatever has happened, he seems to have forgotten me completely—he doesn’t even turn to see if I’m there with him. I follow the two of them for a time, but quickly lose them in the crowded square.

  I stop in the middle of everything, glancing around me, trying to locate them among the throng of people. A thought floats through my head—I try to push it away, but it’s the same one I’ve had the entire time I’ve known Andrew. I’ll never be enough for him. I’m sure whatever is going on with his family is important—I have no doubt that Sophia really does need him. And I know I’m being selfish even worrying about it, wondering why he’s willing to turn away from me—forget I exist—at the drop of a hat.

  I shouldn’t have run from him tonight, even though it was only for fun. I shouldn’t have even attempted to play a game with him like this one. And if I am going to be with Andrew—if I am going to learn to live in his royal world—I suppose I have to learn that I’ll always be second to his family. To his country. To the people of Montovia. I’m not really sure where I even fit on the list when I think about it, but it probably isn’t second.

  “Victoria?” Elle walks up to me, taking my elbow and almost pulling me over to a quiet corner nearby. “Why do you have your mask off?”

  I glance upward, not that I can see anything. The gorgeous mask Sophia had made me is so lightweight, it’s hard to remember it’s there. And Andrew had set it on top of my head before he left me again.

  She smiles at me. “It’s not like you have to wear it or anything. But a couple of people have already recognized me, even with the damned thing on. I am never going to understand what the fascination is.”

  “I don’t think I will, either.”

  She nods and rubs her belly—it almost looks like she’s doing it subconsciously. “I’d really like to leave Montovia. Or at least live outside the palace. Leo and I don’t really have anything here—”