Chapter 21Amelia
Chapter 21
Amelia
Blissful. That's how I feel. Utterly and completely blissful.
Can you blame me? Not only am I having a wonderful adventure away from the rules of my life, but I've found myself falling for the most wonderful of men, a man who knows the real me and doesn't give two hoots about my royal birth or my social standing or any of that nonsense.
Who would have thought a random meeting in a costume shop could lead to so much happiness?
I’d always dreamt of having an exciting love affair with a man who could elicit such passion in me it could barely be contained. And now I have such a man in the rather dashing, incredibly handsome, and awfully manly Ethan Roberts.
Talk about Sizzle with a capital “S.” I’m like a steak on a grill, sizzling with feelings and desire for him.
It’s more than I could ever have hoped for when I left the palace for my month of freedom. I’d hoped that Greg would live up to my expectations, but of course he ended up being a total disaster.
In a way, I’m thankful to him. If it wasn't for Greg turning out to be a conman, I would never have found my way to Ethan. And now that I have, my life has become a wonderful, romantic dream I never want to wake up from.
I still trip up every now and then and call him Mav, of course. It's only been a week since he told me who he really is. But he’s definitely an Ethan. Not that I had any clue what an Ethan would look like before we met. Now that I know him, I would have to say that Ethan is quite clearly the name for a ridiculously handsome, tall, funny, smart, kind man who is a rather splendid kisser.
The most splendid, in fact.
Believe me, I know. We’ve been doing rather a lot of kissing this past week. And it’s been nothing short of incredible.
In between all that kissing, we’ve been talking a lot, as well.
After all, we can now be completely and wholeheartedly honest with one another. No more hiding our true identities. No more Maverick and Amy. We can be who we are, fully and completely, but away from all the rules and conventions that surround our usual lives, free to learn everything there is to learn about each other.
I’ve shared how I was born into a position I never asked for, and although I understand how privileged I am, I want the chance to be just me, Amelia. The woman, not just a princess.
He’s shared his life as a TV star and how he hates how intrusive and facile fame is, despite loving the work. For him, fame has been an unwanted side effect of pursuing his acting dream.
There’s an odd parallel to our lives. We both find ourselves in roles we never wanted, and neither of us know how to handle them so that we retain our souls.
Of course I've Googled him. More than once, as it turns out. Anyone would do the same if they found out they’d been unwittingly sharing a house with a famous Hollywood actor. The oddest thing is that I've watched his show in the past. Not a whole episode, you understand. Blood, gore, and the worst side of humanity isn't exactly my viewing preference.
Give me a good romcom any day, thank you very much.
But I've seen bits and pieces of episodes nonetheless, and I didn't recognize him. He looks so different on the show. He wears an awfully severe white-blond wig, his face covered in prosthetic scars—although he does spend quite a remarkable amount of time shirtless, considering the show is set in continual sub-zero temperatures. Still, why let a bit of snow get in the way of a jolly good view? That's what I say.
You know what beats Rowan Thornheart in all his bare-chested, long-haired glory? The real Ethan Roberts, the man whose smile sets my heart aflutter, whose kisses make my belly swoop with desire. The man who understands me, who lets me be me.
My Ethan.
Oh, I feel giddy just at the thought that he's mine.
We've barely spent a single moment apart since that evening on the lake shore, our footsteps glowing in the sand. It helps that we not only live in a house together, but we work together, too—where we share secret smiles and even steal kisses in the kitchen when no one’s looking.
Not that it’s stopped Pierre flirting with me the way he does, nor Giovanna turning up and flashing her pearly whites, among other assets. But neither of us pay them one iota of attention. We’re too wrapped up in each other and this new, wonderful, utterly blissful thing between us.
We’re sitting side by side at the lake house on the swing seat on the patio that overlooks the lake, our fingers entwined as we talk about nothing and everything. It’s been a week to the day since that magical night where we admitted to one another who we really are. One week of falling deeper and deeper for this man who once dressed as a goth and stole my heart while I wasn’t looking.
“Do you wanna hear a weird thing?” Ethan asks as I'm snuggled up against him, hearing the rhythmic pulse of his heart in his chest.
“Of course I do,” I murmur.
“Even though I pretended to be someone else, I've been more myself around you than I have with anyone for a long, long time.”
I tilt my head to look up at him. “That's not weird to me. You know why?”
“Tell me.”
“Because I feel exactly the same. The first thing you knew about me was I was some random stranger in a costume shop, not that I was Princess Amelia of Ledonia. You treated me like an everyday person.”
“I'll try to remember to curtsy more often around you in the future,” he teases.
I giggle. “Please don't, and not only because I don't want you to see me as a princess, but because a man your size curtsying would look really quite ludicrous.”
“Hey, I met ‘ludicrous’ head on the day I put on that pink, frilly apron that’s too small for me at Francine’s.”
I giggle. “I think you look adorable in that apron.”
“And we all know ‘adorable’ is what every self-respecting guy aims for.”
“In that case you nailed it, my darling Ethan.”
“I think I like my real name on your lips.”
“You do? What else do you like on your lips?” I tease.
He leans in and kisses me softly. “Does that answer your question?”
“It doesn’t, I’m afraid. You’ll need to show me again.”
He lets out a laugh, and I decide his laugh is the most wonderful sound in the world and I never want him to stop laughing the way he does here at the lake. “In that case, let me show you again and again.”
“And again.”
He presses another kiss to my lips, and I pull him against me.
This. This is what I was searching for. A genuine connection with a man who sees me not as a member of the royal family, but as a woman. And the sizzle? It’s burst through the atmosphere with a sonic boom and is currently on its way to Mars.
Ethan shifts, and I nestle back into his warm chest. “You know what's ridiculous? Last year, my agent made me attend a party where they served water from different elevations of Mount Everest. People were discussing the 'mouthfeel' of water from 20,000 feet versus 25,000 feet, whatever a 'mouthfeel' is.”
“Oh, I can do better than that on the ridiculous scale. We held a state dinner for the Irish Prime Minister where we served authentic Celtic cuisine from the 10th century.”
“What was it?”
“Bland porridge and tough meat. The ambassador from Ireland kept eyeing the exit.”
Ethan chuckles. "Did anyone actually eat it?”
“Of course. We all did. You have to so as not to offend anyone.”
“Well, at least your events serve a purpose. Last month I had to attend the premiere of a movie I wasn't even in because my agent thought the movie’s 'brand presence' would help my social media metrics.”
“Brand presence? Whatever is that?”
“It’s some completely nonsense term for having famous people standing around pretending to care about things. I spent three hours taking selfies with people who kept calling me by my character's name.”
“Oh, Rowan Thornheart,” I say, throwing my hand against my chest and pretending to swoon.
But instead of laughing along, Ethan’s face creases into the frown I’ve not seen since before we confessed our true identities to one another.
“What is it?” I ask, concerned.
“I guess it's the thought of going back to my old life. I'm contracted as Rowan Thornheart for another couple seasons. I know it won't be worth trying to break it, but—” He breaks off.
“But what?” I ask, giving his hand a squeeze.
“I don't know. That character could be so much more than some tough warlord who gets around without his shirt, you know?”
“So why don't you ask the producers for character development for him? You could give him some more depth and vulnerability rather than just him being the brooding, shirtless warrior he currently is.”
“They'd never go for it.”
“Do you know that for certain?”
He pauses for a beat before he replies, “No.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. That's what my father always says, and he's absolutely right. Imagine if you hadn't decided to get away from Hollywood and come here? We would never have met.”
“You're my something ventured and something gained?” he asks, his frown lifting, his eyes soft.
I smile at him, my chest filling with warmth. “Just as you are mine.”
“Maybe I will talk to them,” he says. “Hey, I want to tell you something. You know how you said not many royals have carved out careers outside of royalty?”
“Other than charity work, which of course is very important. Oh, and sports. Some royals have been awfully good at sports.”
“I compiled a list for you.”
“A list of what?”
“It's of members of royal families across Europe in which younger brothers and sisters who don’t inherit the throne have achieved something outside of being royal. Want me to read it to you?”
“I know who you're going to talk about. Prince Harry from Britain and his Invictus Games for war veterans. I've been to those games. They’re jolly good. Hazza did a fine job.”
“Actually, ‘Hazza,’ as you call him, didn't make the top ten on my list.”
I pull back to look at him. “Oh?”
He holds his phone up and reads a note. “First up there's Princess Anne of Britain who was an equestrian rider. She won medals, she was that good.”
“Oh, I knew about her, too.”
“Did you know about the Spanish princess, Cristina, who was an Olympic sailor? She competed and won at the 1988 Olympics.”
I blink at him in surprise. “No.”
He reads his screen. “What about Princess Mabel of Orange-Nassau who’s a human rights activist?”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Princess Madeleine from Sweden is a children's book author and works for the World Childhood Foundation. Prince Félix from Luxembourg runs a successful vineyard in France. Here’s a good one: Prince Constantine from the Netherlands works in technology and innovation and heads up TeachLeap, which helps Dutch start-ups. Then there’s Princess?—”
I place my hand on his arm, my head spinning, and not just with the list of impressive achievements by members of royal families across Europe. Ethan’s taken the time to research this for me, to show me that I can carve out a life for myself outside of my family. That I can be my own person.
Suddenly, my throat grows tight. “The fact you did this for me is … well, I so appreciate it,” I say, my voice strangled. Tears have welled in my eyes, and I try to blink them away rapidly. “I so appreciate you .”
“Ami, are you okay?” he asks, concern etched on his face.
“You're just so lovely doing this for me. Thank you.” My voice cracks and to my embarrassment an errant tear slides down my cheek.
He pulls me closer against him, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Hey, don't cry. This is good, Ami. This shows there are so many options for you outside of charity work and all the things royals traditionally do. You have options. Lots and lots of options. You can follow your heart.”
I nod, not trusting my voice to speak again.
“You don’t have to be penned in. Use your position for whatever you want to do with your life.”
“But my parents?—”
“I’m sure your parents want what all parents want for their offspring: for you to be happy.”
“You don’t know my father. He can be awfully strict, not to mention the fact that we have generations upon generations of history and tradition to live up to.”
“But you told me the story about how your dad was behind the whole ancient scroll adventure Sofia and Marco went on, right? A man capable of that level of intrigue and fun isn't all about the rules and duty and tradition and playing it safe.”
I roll the idea around in my head. “That was a complete surprise for all of us.”
“Maybe he'll support you in doing what you want?”
“Maybe,” I reply, chewing on my lip. The thought of returning to the palace and my old life, to confronting my parents, asking them to support me in whatever my choices may be has my belly tying in elaborate knots.
“Do you know what you want to do?” he asks softly.
I've been thinking about this very thing, trying to work out what I can take from my time away from the palace. As magical as it's been to get to know Ethan and develop such strong feelings for him, this experience has changed me as a person, as well. I can't imagine going back to my old life and simply accepting it. I'm different now. All I wanted when I left the palace was to have an adventure, do exciting things with interesting people.
It turns out what I got instead was a deeper understanding of who I am.
“I don't quite know how it looks yet, but I think I want to do something with people. I know that’s vague, but I've loved working at the café, connecting with people. I would like to do something along those lines.”
“Run your own café?”
“I can't imagine my parents would go for that idea. Can you imagine? A princess running a café? They’d make sure I was surrounded in security detail as I made cappuccinos, with their grim expressions and dark glasses and weapons at the ready.”
“That might destroy the laid back café vibe.”
“Exactly. I can't imagine anyone would want to come to that café.”
“The way I see it, you can do whatever your heart desires, Ami.”
“But what if my heart desires to be with you?” I ask, my voice small, my heart hammering in my chest.
The edges of his mouth lift into a hint of a smile, his deep blue gaze intense. “Then I think we should give your heart just that,” he says, brushing the hair from my forehead before he leans closer to me, our breath mingling, and brushes his lips against mine in a deeply emotional kiss. It wraps me up in its warmth and sincerity.
“I’m falling for you, Ami,” he whispers against my lips. “I’m yours, body and soul. I’ve never felt like this before.”
My breath hitches in my throat. “I’m falling for you, too,” I tell him, never more certain of anything in my life.
“Just as well,” he says, his eyes teasing.
“How do we manage being together when we go back to our real lives, when this Montelac bubble bursts?”
“Who says it needs to burst? We’ve got today, tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.”
Does that mean he doesn’t see a future with me? Does that mean the time we’re spending now is enough for him? That there’s no future beyond the next few days for us?
“And besides, I’m sure I could fit in a trip to Ledonia.”
My sagging heart leaps at his words. “You could?”
“Or we could meet halfway. Paris sounds good to me.”
I beam at him. “I would love to visit Paris with you. And London. Oh, and Barcelona.”
“And Milan and Dubrovnik and Dublin.” He gives me a kiss before naming each city.
“And Brussels and Amsterdam and Prague,” I add, doing the same.
“I'm going to run out of cities to name,” he says with a laugh, and it’s like his laugh has tentacles that can reach inside my heart and squeeze. “I want nothing more than for us to make this work, however we do that. We can face it together. We will find a way.”
I wrap my arms around him. “I do, too. However we do it.”
And that’s the big question. How will we do it? We lead such different and demanding lives, his as a famous actor in America, and mine as a princess of Ledonia.
But as I look into his eyes, I see nothing but sincerity and truth, and I know somehow, with both of us wanting this so desperately, we will make it work.