13. Nina
13
NINA
Giddiness runs up my core as we pull through the palace’s iron gates for lunch. It sits huge among pristine and colorful landscaping. My family lived here. My mom .
Maia and I are so caught up in a conversation about the charity we could do as princesses that I forget to change into the heels I brought.
“Damn. Go on without me while I change my shoes.”
“I’ll go use the bathroom and then come back for you,” Maia says, sliding out of the town car and leaving with Mason in tow.
Beck opens my door and waits as I put on my cream-colored heels and scoot to the edge. Before I can place a foot outside, his open hand waits in front of me. I pause at the sight, then sneak a quick glance at him. His entire effect is aloof, so I match it. I place my hand in his and hate the way his fingers clamp around mine automatically.
He’s a gentleman helping me out of the car, and I can only imagine what it would feel like to have his hand elsewhere on my body. I inwardly groan and push the thought back as far as possible. No way in hell will I make a move on my bodyguard. The rejection would make my life painfully awkward.
I step out of the car into a private, circular driveway on a different side of the palace. This is much different than the public section. I meet Maia at the garden entrance, and when we reach a fork in the path, I notice Beck walking the other way.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t need to remain with you on palace grounds, madam.”
“Fine… Hey—Beck.” I wait until he looks back. “Don’t call me madam .”
He gives a curt nod, which I find oddly amusing. I have yet to see a handsome man as stoic as him. Every beautiful man I’ve come across knows they’re hot and uses it as an excuse to be a dick one way or another.
I follow Maia down the path until it reveals a yard of flowers, a daybed, a pool, and a table under the shade of a huge tree. Security guards dot the area, and I spot the multiple cameras in trees and even on a few statues. The walkway leads to the table, saving me from walking on grass with heels.
“Girls! I’m so pleased you could join us,” Aunt Beverly exclaims, extending her hands for us to grab. Maia takes one and I take the other.
“Of course,” my sister says.
Even though I feel slightly out of place, I feign gratitude and joy. “Thank you for inviting us.”
My aunt beckons us forward. “Come, meet your cousins, plus Roman.”
Three people step up like little soldiers, but one moves closer. He’s shorter than me with dirty blond hair that ought to be combed. “I’m still a plus ? Mrs. Elias, you know you love me like a son.”
She smiles. “Roman is my son’s best friend, but for all intents and purposes, he’s part of the family.”
“I’m Vanessa,” a girl says. She has tanned, freckled skin. Her light brown hair is bobbed, and she blinks pieces of her bangs away from her eyes.
“Jason—Jace for short,” the remaining boy says.
She and Jace would be inseparable.
That was in Mom’s letter to Aunt Beverly. She wanted Jace and me to be friends. Another mournful pang echoes through my stomach at what could have been. My cousin is tall with pale skin and brown hair.
I offer a polite smile. “Hi, I’m Nina, this is?—”
“Maia,” Roman interrupts, taking my sister’s hand and shaking it even though she hadn’t offered. “The goddess of love.” I don’t like the way he’s looking at her. He acts like those beautiful men who know they’re beautiful, but he’s missing the most important part.
Maia has enough manners to pleasantly return the greeting, but I notice her wiping her palm on her skirt. I already know who Vanessa and Jace are from my extensive Google search. Ever since my mother’s death, the royals have mostly stayed out of the public eye. The monarch has remained dormant, not improving, not declining. People have been calling for the end of the Maldanian monarchy while others want the tradition to live on. Vanessa and Jace offer enough publicity to remain relevant enough to collect taxpayer money, but they’re largely boring to the public. To me, that’s a good thing.
But Roman wants to change that. We spend an hour chatting about their lives as royals and how they can improve. Roman makes it clear he thinks Maldana can get richer if the royals become a consistent part of the media. While I remain guarded, Maia is more candid. She talks about what she would want to raise awareness for—specifically causes that pertain to the environment. In turn, Roman brags about the countries he’s traveled to.
After another slice of tora di pomke, I excuse myself to stretch my legs before the main course is served. I wander through the garden, regretting it more with each heeled step on the grass. City noises erupt in the distance, but the area is serene. My fingers brush over hydrangeas and marigolds, and I perk at the sight of lilies. Without hesitation, I stick my nose in them and inhale the aroma. Serenity, indeed.
“Your mother designed this garden,” Aunt Beverly says softly, appearing to my right.
I back up from the shrub. “She did?”
“She loved helping people as queen, but this—this was her happy place.” She looks at the vine-covered arch above her. “Gardens.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Maia loves plants.”
“I know.”
Silence topples over us. What am I supposed to say to her? All I can think about are the missed years—missed birthdays, Christmases, family vacations. I may not remember much of anything about Mom, but I know this would sadden her.
Despite being at least six inches taller than Aunt Beverly in heels, I shrink when I notice her staring. “What?”
“Sorry—that was rude of me.” She blinks herself back to reality, running manicured fingers along her hairline. “It’s only—you’re all grown up.”
And you missed it.
She notices my discomfort. “You’re mistrustful of me, rightfully so. But please understand—I was given no warning when Ophie left, she?—”
“Over twenty years ago,” I interject. “If you didn’t want to be in your nieces’ lives after her death, then you couldn’t have loved her all that much.” Or me , for that matter. I fail to keep my voice from cracking.
There’s nothing Maia could do that would drive me away. If I was Aunt Beverly, I would make the Atlantic Ocean look like a puddle with how much I’d travel. Better yet, I’d relocate.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is. You’ll excuse me for being so forward, but I recently discovered my family chose to stay out of my life.” The words are harsher than I want them to be, but I didn’t realize my level of hurt until she started talking. I curve around her to head back to everyone else. She let Maia and me down when we needed her. Dad never recovered from Mom’s death.
“I’m sorry,” Aunt Beverly exclaims, and I halt. “I did not think—I did not consider you or your sister… I’ve made a horrible mistake. I know that now. I don’t deserve it, but I’d like the chance to fix it.” She takes a few tentative steps toward me. “You are wanted here, Nina. Say the word, and we’ll let the adventures begin so we can show you that.”
“Adventures?”
“The kids want to show you girls around the country a little bit, and the Higher Court is dying to meet you and Maia. It won’t be a commitment,” she rushes to add at my hesitation. “They can answer any questions you have about the institution. It is just an introduction.”
I exhale. It doesn’t sound appealing. I don’t want to learn about the institution. I want to learn about Mom.
“I’ll think about it. But, um… would it—would it be okay if I spent some time with the letter Mom sent you? The original one—in Maldanian. And the… the scrapbooks you made.”
“Oh,” she says, her blue eyes wide in surprise. “Of course. I’ll have them safely delivered to your room.”
I rejoin the lunch with less animosity toward Aunt Beverly. It may not be wise to dwell on the past, but it’s hard when that past is my childhood.
By the time the meal is over, I’m overwhelmed with the amount of social interaction and want to avoid conversation for at least two hours.
What I love most about Maia is that she understands my need to be alone sometimes. I’ve been the calm, responsible one in the family for years, and I need my own space to keep doing that. She doesn’t argue when I tell her I’ll meet her for dinner later this evening.
For the next few hours, it’ll just be me and the streets of Kosita.
And Beck, of course.