Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ARCHER
If I were the sort of guy to kiss a girl without thinking of consequences, I would have kissed Ella as many times as I could have last night.
But I’m not Eds when it comes to women, and I hope never to be.
So even if I am entirely sure that I want to invite her to stay in Northandria and maybe truly get to know each other in a romantic context, I’ll talk first, kiss later.
That is the way of a proper gentleman.
The door chimes. Once upon a time, there were actual, physical chimes that courtiers had to go through to reach the royal apartments. Now it is just a button to press for unexpected visitors, another modern convenience embedded into the historical walls of Langford Castle.
I give my chin one last check to make sure there are no stray stubbles before leaving my bedroom for the more public sitting room attached to it.
“Your Royal Highness.” I’m greeted right away. It’s one of Anselm’s underlings, those that trail after him while he trails after the Queen. In other words, bad news.
“Yes?”
“We have a change in schedule to request of you.”
I frown. Today is Ella’s day to do the awarding in Eds' place. As royal tasks go, it’s a very minor one, with minimal room for error. But I wouldn’t want to start the day full of surprises. In general, I don’t like surprises. You never quite know how to prepare for them.
Of course, surprises could also mean that mysterious pretty girls from American airports can step into a press conference as tourists and emerge as remarkably successful royal fiancées, but that hardly counts.
Outliers will be outliers. Changes to a plan rarely ever go as well as the plan would have in the first place.
“Is yet another prince incapacitated?” I ask.
“As a matter of fact—”
“Really?” My frown harshens. “What did Eds do this time?”
“It’s the Children’s Hospital, sir. In collaboration with the Wish Foundation.”
“Eds would never do that sort of thing.”
“One of the young female patients asked to see a real prince. And His Highness Prince Gregory had been enlisted to perform the honors.”
Concern mingles with my anger. “He’s still not back?”
“Disappeared off the face of Northandria, sir.”
“His personnel—”
“They insist Prince Gregory is safe, sir. No signs of foul play.”
“God forbid.”
“And yet the hospital vacancy remains, sir.”
I groan. “I was supposed to watch the Games today.”
“And thus available.”
I want to say I am not. I’m meant to watch the Games. Meant to watch Ella. Meant to see her blossom into the princess that she seems born to be.
But a life as Archer Penderson means service and duty take precedence over everything else. It probably explains why a prince can’t land a girl at my age, despite the title and all. But it is what it is.
“Are there no other royal princes available?” I ask.
“Just the one, sir.”
And almost as if the very thought summoned him, Eds sweeps into the room. He’s just as uninvited as the messenger I’m currently talking to, but in true fashion, Eds skips the door chime.
“Do you have any more champagne?” he asks loudly before dropping onto the couch.
I glare at him, which, as usual, achieves nothing. “No one except this useless fellow, I take it?”
Anselm’s apprentice frowns nervously. “No, sir.”
I sigh. Would Ella expect me to be around? But what would Ella say if I ignore the wishes of a dying child in favor of watching her?
It’s not hard to figure out the answer.
“Get me my stationery,” I call out to Sven, who quickly provides me with my personal writing box. I snag a chair at the nearest desk and pop open the lid. I pick up the fountain pen and a clean sheet.
“Writing instructions for me now?” Eds hollers from the couch.
“As if you would ever read them,” I answer.
Dearest Ella,
That is not too unusual, is it? It is a perfectly normal way to begin a note to your own fiancée.
One could argue, of course, that fake fiancées should follow a different set of rules.
But I don’t exactly have time to research what those rules are.
Given the rush of people that descend upon Northandria during the Carvarell Games, it might take up to two hours for us to get to the Children’s Hospital.
And visiting hours wait for no one.
I look back at my note.
Dearest Ella,
An unexpected need at the children’s hospital requires my attention. I regret my absence as much as I believe in your success. The winners will be doubly rewarded by having you there to congratulate them. May you soar as elegantly as any creature of your choice (and most certainly not a Phoenix).
I pause at the joke. She will understand that it is a joke, right?
I take another moment to stress over the closing. I settle on a classic.
Regards,
Archer
I fold up the sheet, slide it into an envelope, and seal it with the stamp I keep inside my writing box. I stand and hand my note to the man who’d interrupted my day with the unwelcome news.
“Please make sure that Miss Langford receives this.”
The letter is intercepted even before it’s handed over—by the thieving fingers of Eduardo Mondecci.
“I’ll deliver it,” he says, grin and all.
“You will lose it.”
“You know I won’t.”
It frustrates me that he’s right. He won’t.
Eds might be a horrible boyfriend, but he’s a decent prince.
And if it weren’t for the scandal with the Andovan PM’s daughter, he would already be recruited for the Children’s Hospital.
He’ll probably be much more charming with the little girl than I’ll ever be too.
“Don’t you dare read it,” I say, rather stupidly.
The grin deepens. “You make it sound like I should.”
“If you value Sanbellini’s reputation at all, Eds—”
“Yes, I do.” That sobers him. Not all royals care about their own reputations. But the good ones will also care about their countries’. “Trust me. Your girl will get this within the hour. I’ll just be watching the games anyway, low profile and all.”
I nod. “See that you do.”