Royal Mistake #4 Page 3

  I press my lips together. “It’s not important. And it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

  “Then why aren’t you staying with them? Why are you in this…less than desirable establishment?”

  I narrow my gaze. “Also not your concern.”

  “I would think that your family would be concerned. I’m not entirely convinced the stain over there isn’t from some act of homicide…” He motions to a brown stain on the carpet nearby. “And if you were a member of my family, I wouldn’t want you staying in a place where a crime might have been committed.”

  “Well, that’s exactly why I’m here, not that it’s any of your business.” I press my lips together, sure I shouldn’t be saying as much as I am. “They moved recently. And I couldn’t stay with them. I couldn’t even get in the front door of their new house.”

  His brow furrows. “A crime was committed in their home? And you allow them to stay there?”

  I groan and throw my hands up. “I didn’t have a say in it. They owned the house. It was always theirs. It just took them twenty-five years to move into it.”

  He frowns and his eyebrows draw together with confusion. “Victoria—”

  “You don’t want to hear this story, Andrew. I’m telling you—you don’t—”

  He pulls my hand into his. “Were I to end my courtship with Lady Clarissa, this story will come out. And it will come out to the entire world. If you’re willing to allow the world to know—”

  “I’m a little surprised you don’t know already, Your Highness. With your predisposition for planning and trying to control every outcome, I guess I don’t understand why you didn’t go digging into my past already.”

  He frowns. “Your past has never been my concern. I…” He runs a hand through his hair. “The truth of the matter is that I did not foresee our relationship at all. I knew the story about what had happened with Reginald and the scepter was going to come out and I needed it to be presented in the best possible light, which was the only reason I hired you. I never had any notion that I would come to care for you as I do, Victoria.”

  He searches my eyes again. “You don’t have to tell me anything. But I hope you know that I do care. That I do want to hear—”

  “My brother was ten years older than me.” My breath hitches in my chest for a moment. I can’t believe I’m about to share this with him. It isn’t like the story is a secret, but it isn’t one I’ve had to tell. I grew up in this town where everyone always knew. Where people were afraid to talk much to me and my best friends were my paper and pen. Where writing was the only way for me to express anything I cared about.

  “Landon.” He smiles. “You mentioned his name when I was trying to get you out of the water after our…accident.” His smile falls to a frown. “If you’d rather not discuss the plane—”

  “It has nothing to do with the plane, Andrew.” I stare at him for a moment, unsure if I want to be the one telling him this story. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find out about it himself and I’d never have to speak a word.

  I chew on my lip for a moment, trying to decide if it’s worth opening myself to him. But haven’t I done that already? Haven’t I already opened myself up to heartache by allowing myself to be with him in the first place?

  I look back up into his eyes. “He came to my room that night. He hadn’t been out of his room in days. I was young…only six.”

  Andrew is looking at me with a strange expression—some mix of dread and wonder and hell if I know what else. But something in his eyes is also encouraging.

  So I press on. “He kissed me on the forehead and told me he was sorry. And he told me not to come out of my room no matter what I heard.”

  Andrew’s mouth falls open a little and he shakes his head slowly. “Victoria—”

  “He called me Vicky. Everyone in town did. I guess they still do.” I’m rambling, and I know I can stop. But I don’t want to.

  But I pause for a while after that and stare at my hand clasped in his. “I heard three shots. I knew what the sound was because my dad and my uncle had taken me hunting a lot of times. Three shots. One for my mom, one for my dad, and one for…” My throat seems to have closed off and I can’t get my brother’s name out. I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about it since I was little. No one ever wanted to discuss it with me.

  I stare at our hands for a long time before I lift my gaze to his again. “My aunt and uncle have been struggling lately. They sold their house a few years ago and decided to move into my parents’ old house. It was just sitting there vacant. And it was paid for—and a lot smaller than their place. Cheaper to maintain. Since it was just the two of them, they decided it made more financial sense to live there than it did to live in their big house.” I force a tiny smile. “Not that by big it was anywhere near the size of your palace or anything…”

  He’s silent for a long time. “My God, Victoria.” He shakes his head but says nothing else.

  “It’s not a secret. It never has been.” I shrug. “There might be a few other things I don’t want the press finding out about me, but I’ve never done anything I’m ashamed of, Andrew. I guess what I’m saying is, if you’re worried about Lady Clarissa making my life a living hell, don’t. I’ve lived through a lot of bad shit in my life, and having the press hound me would probably be the least of it.”

  He frowns again and nods. “I don’t want to make light of anything you’ve said, Victoria. But even if I was willing to cut Clarissa loose, it still leaves me with the very real problem of Princess Justine and her father and brother.”

  “I know.” I squeeze his hand as I force a smile. “But you seemed to like her.”

  He nods. “She’s pleasant enough. More than pleasant. If you…” He pauses, the lines on his forehead deepening. “If it weren’t for you—”

  “Well…” I squeeze his hand again before I pull mine away. I stand up and walk to the door again. “That’s why there shouldn’t be a me in the picture, Andrew.” I open the door again and motion for him to go. “Nothing I’ve told you matters. Nothing about me matters at all in the grand Kingdom of Montovia.” I force a smile. “You said you came here for my help—so I could help you figure out which woman you should choose to be your wife.”

  I search his eyes. “I think you could love Justine. I think you could be happy with her. And you deserve to be happy, Andrew. You deserve to love someone. We both deserve to love someone we can share our lives with.”

  My gaze drops to the floor. I pause for a moment before I lift my eyes to meet his gaze again. “You need to go back to Montovia. And you need to let me go so you can have a life with Justine.”

  Andrew

  The thought of returning to Montovia without her fills me with an aching emptiness. I refuse to return without her. I refuse.

  Still her words replay in my mind: We both deserve to love someone we can share our lives with. I know I was selfish to come here. Selfish to ask her to return to Montovia with me. Selfish to continue pretending we can postpone the inevitable. But in spite of my sense, my better judgment, and even my conscience, I can’t stay away from her. Can’t imagine walking away from her.

  “I’m not going back without you,” I tell her. I stride forward and shut the door.

  She shakes her head. “Andrew—”

  “I’m not. And that’s final.”

  “Well, I’m not going, and that’s final.”

  I frown. “Then we’re at an impasse.”

  “I guess we are.”

  I walk slowly over to the dingy little window. We both know the simplest and easiest solution to everything is for me to marry Princess Justine—but why can’t I bring myself to do it? Why, when I’ve spent my entire life training myself to behave in the best interests of Montovia?

  “You are the first thing I’ve ever wanted for myself,” I say finally. “My entire life I’ve done my duty. Made all my decisions based on what I thought would be best for my country. And I was honor
ed to do it. Proud. I slipped up that night in Prague with Leopold—but even before I gambled away one of our national treasures, I wasn’t exactly enjoying myself. Even if there hadn’t been any consequences for my actions, I never would have indulged in such frivolities again. I never missed such things in my life, and I never wished for anything other than what I was given. This is my life, my fate, and I’ve never wanted anything else. But then I met you, and…” I look back over my shoulder at her. “I want you. Not for Montovia, but simply for me. For the part of me that somehow remains independent of my country and my responsibility. And I don’t know what to do, Victoria. I don’t know how to un-want something. I don’t know if I can, or should, or even if I want to.”

  Victoria is shaking her head again, turning away from me. “Andrew, don’t…”

  I go to her. I can’t do anything else. I wrap my arms around her and pull her against my chest, and after a moment’s hesitation, she lets herself fold against me, her head tucked beneath my chin.

  “Tell me,” I murmur. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

  Her face is pressed against my collar, so her voice is slightly muffled. “I’ve already told you. Princes Justine—”

  “Tell me what your heart thinks, not your head,” I say. “If I were making this decision based solely on facts and reason, I’d already know the answer.” I tighten my arms around her waist. I don’t ever want to let her out of my arms.

  A quiver moves through her, and at first I think it’s a physical reaction to the nearness of our bodies—something I can definitely appreciate. But then I hear her let out a soft, shuddering breath, and I realize she’s trying to keep herself from crying.

  Something aches inside of me. I never want to make her cry. I feel like a bastard, bringing her to this point—especially after what she just confessed to me about her parents and brother. I press my cheek against the top of her head. I did enough of a background check to know her parents were dead, but I never realized how tragic and horrifying those deaths were—I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her, carrying around that terrible weight all these years. Living with that dark memory.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything now,” I tell her. “Just know that if things were different—”

  “Things aren’t different.”

  “But if they were…if I were free to simply want what I want…” I clear my throat. My eyes fall closed. “My mother, from the time we were young, has sought to teach my siblings and me about humility and privilege. She constantly reminded us of how blessed we were to be born into such circumstances, to have everything we could ever want at our fingertips, and I tried to take her words to heart. It wasn’t until very recently, though, that I began to fully understand the price of such blessings. Everything comes at a cost. And there are things I may want—may need—that my privilege cannot buy.” My hands tighten on her. “I never realized that wanting could be a physical pain.”

  Her grip tightens on my shirt. “Please, just…just stop talking.”

  I do. But I don’t stop holding her close. My fingers spread on her back, and I turn my face and press my lips gently to her hair.

  Only after I feel her relax in my arms do I risk speaking again.

  “Help me,” I murmur. “Come to Montovia with me and help me find a way out of this mess. There must be some way we can spin all of this to the public. Some way to preserve the good name of Montovia without selling my soul.”

  She starts to pull away from me. “Andrew, I can’t—”

  “But together, we can.” I clutch her hands and look down into her eyes. “I’ve fucked up, Victoria. I’ve made a huge mistake. I’m willing to admit that to you. But if anyone can solve this dilemma, the two of us can. We survived a plane crash and several days in the wilderness together. I dare say we can find our way out of this.”

  She frowns up at me. “What exactly are you asking me to do? Are you saying you want to cancel this pageant?”

  “Well, we can’t cancel it outright. The latest women have only just arrived, and the first story has already run—”

  “Then I can’t help you.”

  “We still have a chance to lead this pageant in any way we like. To tell the story we want to tell.”

  “And what story is that, exactly?” she asks, pulling her hands out of mine. “How do you see all of this ending?”

  “That’s what I need you to help me decide.”

  “As I’ve said—twice now, I believe—Princess Justine—”

  “I don’t want to marry Princess Justine. I don’t want to marry any of those women. But I’d also prefer to come out of this without the people of Montovia detesting me.” I close the distance between us again. “Is that possible?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

  “But will you help me try?” I hook my finger under her chin and tilt her face up toward mine. “Think of it as a professional challenge. Or a creative one, if you prefer. Perhaps on the surface it seems like a superficial story, but you must see by now that some deeper political issues are at play here. I’m not a celebrity. I’m the future ruler of a country, and you know as well as I that the things the press says about me will affect public perception, which will in turn affect my reign.” I can tell by the look in her eyes that I’m losing her again, so I change tactics. “If you won’t do it for professional reasons, then let me appeal to you as a friend.”

  Her eyebrow rises. “A friend?”

  “I believe you were the one who first suggested that sort of relationship between us. Tell me, what would a friend do in this situation?”

  “I can’t be your friend anymore, Andrew.”

  My stomach tightens, but I won’t be deterred.

  “Pity,” I say. “I’ve been suffering under the illusion that we’d crossed the line from friends into very good friends, and very good friends always—”

  “Argh—you never give up, do you?”

  “No. And I won’t.”

  She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, and then opens them again. “Fine. Fine, I’ll come back to Montovia and write your stupid story.”

  “Thank you.” I bring her hand to my lips and gently kiss her knuckles. I want to do much more—perhaps throw her down on the bed again and thank her with a certain kind of pleasure—but I don’t want to overstep myself. Not when it’s taken so much convincing to get her to agree.

  “We can leave as soon as you’re ready,” I tell her. “They should have had plenty of time to refuel the plane by now.”

  “You want to leave now?”

  “No one knows I’m here. I must return home quickly before they realize I’m not actually in London.”

  Uncertainty and hesitation cloud her face. “I—”

  “Do you really want to spend another day here?” I ask. “Just say the word, and I’ll get you anything you want in Montovia—a private car for personal use during your stay, pastries from Paris, clothes from Milan, any luxury you can imagine. Whatever you wish.”

  “I’ve already agreed to come. You don’t have to bribe me.”

  “I’m not trying to bribe you. I’m trying to be generous. That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

  She smirks. “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  I grab her hand and start to pull her toward the door, but she tugs me back.

  “Andrew…”

  I turn. “Yes?”

  She stares up at me, her eyes dark with emotion. Her lips part as if she means to speak, but no sound comes out. After a moment, her mouth closes again.

  “Victoria?” I prompt.

  “Never mind,” she says. “It’s nothing.” She pulls her hand out of mine. “I need to pack.”

  “I can help.”

  She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t try to stop me from helping gather her things from around the room. It only takes us a few minutes to get all of her belongings into her bag.

  “Are you ready?” I ask her, offering
my arm.

  She wraps her fingers around my elbow and looks up at me. “I don’t know.”

  Something in her tone makes my stomach tighten.

  “I’m not sure I know, either,” I tell her. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

  Victoria

  I should tell him.

  I could end it right here—stop the torment we both seem to be suffering with. He might be professing something to me right now—maybe he’s even changed a little. But even if he has decided he can have something for himself for once—something he wants—he isn’t going to want me when he finds out.

  He seems so proud of himself for finally discovering that maybe he’s more than just a future king. More than some servant to his country. I can’t bear to ruin it for him. And it probably won’t matter, anyway. Even if he does decide to end this idiotic pageant, there’s nothing saying he’s going to choose me in the long run. We can have some fun for a while like we have been. Enjoy each other’s company. And if it ever came down to him wanting something more than whatever we have now, I can leave.

  And he’ll never have to know.

  We make a quick stop so I can say goodbye to my aunt and uncle—I haven’t told them about my latest assignment, and hopefully they’ll never have to know I’m doing this. I’m not even sure how I can justify this job to myself, let alone my family. Nothing about it makes any sense, and the reason is probably because I’m making decisions with some part of me other than my brain.

  We’re stepping onto the plane when that little voice in my head takes over. It’s all going to come crashing down around you again.

  I pause on the staircase leading up to the plane and turn to look at Andrew behind me. He smiles and places a hand on the small of my back. “We’ll each take one of those pills after we board.”

  Right. The accident. The nervous twisting in my stomach could be explained away by the crash, but I somehow know that isn’t what’s causing it at all.

  It’s because I’m giving him hope.