14. Chapter 14
Fitz
T om walked beside me as we moved through the palace, tablet in hand as he checked off our agenda.
“Tonight, you need to eliminate one from the ranks bringing us to eleven contenders.” Check. “Tomorrow, I need a name for—”
“What if there are more?” My tone had turned lifeless, drained by the events at the group date.
“More what?”
“More I want to send home?”
The head producer had a hard time hiding his shock. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Two days in and I wanted this over as soon as possible. “If I know there is nothing between us, I don’t see the point in keeping them here, right?”
“That’s… uh… one way to look at it.” My walking pace increased with my anxiety, and Tom skittered to keep up as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “How many charms do you want there tonight, Your Highness?”
“Nine.” I corrected myself. “Eight. Gwen has hers.”
He took a moment to pause and construct the text. I impatiently stared at a portrait of my great-great-grandfather Leonidas Ignatius, the first with my name. His glowering glare never wavered while I had a hard time maintaining even his imagined stare. The whole thing with Gwen had rattled me. From the start, she was the one I’d imagined I could end up with but kissing her was like… kissing a sister.
“May I compliment you, Leo, on that last interaction with Lady Gwendolyn. We only edited and pieced the clips together in the last twenty minutes and they’re already skyrocketing in views. There’s talk that you’ve already found your queen.”
My stomach roiled at the thought of lying to Gwen for the rest of my life. Was there any chance that my feelings would change?
“Is there anything more you need from me?” I started walking, unwilling to stay on the thread of conversation he refused to drop.
“Oh yes,” he caught up quickly. “Tomorrow you’ll visit Princeborough Province, but as a single date. I need the name of the lady of court you’d like to take with you.” His bony elbow jabbed my side as he nudged me repeatedly. “Though, I bet I know who you want to take.”
“Blair,” I answered without feeling. Spending time with Gwen was the last thing on my mind. I needed space to figure out what everything meant.
“Oh. The chauffeur’s daughter?”
Could she be nothing more than her father’s station in life? “I’m sure there’s more to her than that, Tom.” I arrived at my door and paused with my hand poised to make my escape. “Anything else?”
“There are some concerns rising in the kingdom that you haven’t sent the American home, and the way Gwendolyn was talking tonight, I’m afraid it might need to be addressed.”
“What are you asking?” Panic rose at the idea of anyone looking into my past with Coco.
“Nothing, really. Not yet.” He picked his words carefully. “But if she continues to stay, you might need to explain how an American could serve as the queen of Nolcovia, or your subjects will assume your plan is to abdicate the throne.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I snapped as I shoved the door open. Tom said something else before I made it inside, but I pushed my back against the door, pressing it closed as I took in a deep breath of free air.
“Tough day, Cousin?”
My whole body tensed at the sound of his voice. If Bishop was around, then the sharks had already smelled blood in the water.
Bishop, my cousin of the same age, sat on one of my couches, snacking on what was likely my dinner. Exhaustion stole my need for diplomacy. I stared, dumbfounded by his presence.
“Why?” I finally asked, unable to think of anything else to say.
“The food? Or my presence?” He leaned back and stretched his arms out along the back of the couch, not unlike a conquering invader marking his territory.
“Dealer’s choice.” I slipped my coat from my shoulders and hung it near the door. Finger locked into the knot of my tie, I pulled, hoping removing the proverbial noose from around my neck would lessen the figurative one.
“I heard about the game you’re playing, and I wanted a closer look.”
I read between the lines.
“You’re here to watch me fail, then?”
“I’m here to help.” His arms dropped as he leaned forward and braced them against his legs. “If you can’t rule and my reclusive father refuses, then I will be next in line and no one in this country or on this earth wants that less than me.” He tilted his head to the side. “And that’s saying something.”
We’d been pitted against each other since birth. Not because there was bad blood, but just the nature of our births. Bishop had been born four months before me, but his father was two years younger than mine. Despite his mother’s objections that Bishop should take succession, Parliament had disagreed. Succession would follow the bloodline in the traditional sense. Bishop had always claimed he wanted nothing to do with the throne, but I had my doubts. When faced with riches and power, who would turn it down?
“You’d be in the same boat as me.” I dropped my tie on the couch and started unfastening my shirt buttons. “Forced to marry in order to rule.”
“Yes, an absolute disaster beyond repair. Something to be avoided at all costs. By all men, if you want my opinion.” He popped a couple of chocolate-covered almonds into his mouth. Bishop waved a hand in my direction. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“Course,” I answered dryly. “Too many single maidens in the kingdom to choose a single one, right? Isn’t that the story you’ve sold since our youth?”
His palms opened as if to display his innocence. “I am a lover of beautiful art in all its forms.” He twisted, reclined, and kicked his legs up on the arm of the couch. “Too much to experience to lock it down with one woman, I’m afraid.”
I flopped onto the opposite couch, wishing we had a different relationship. Having someone with a similar perspective had to be beneficial, and yet, I had few male friends outside of those who were paid to serve me. Taking a jab at it, I asked, “Doesn’t it get lonely though? Don’t you look at your parents and ache for something—”
“Arranged and awkward?” Bishop finished for me.
I frowned. “Real and deep.”
His head flopped to the side to face me. “You have met my parents, haven’t you?” He squinted and raised an arm as high as he could. “About yea tall, constantly bickering about how close my father is to the crown and yet he doesn’t pursue it?” Bishop drew in a breath and faced the ceiling. “My mother answers to Ambitious Shrew, and father is called Lazy Lowlife. Can’t imagine why I shy away from the whole institution of marriage.” He waved a hand at me without looking. “But you—you carry on—good luck.”
“Your faith is encouraging, Cousin.” I sat up and took the bread roll from the plate, despite my lack of hunger. Sarcastically, I continued, “Can’t imagine how I can fail with you here to bolster me up.”
“But that’s why I’m here.” With one sweeping motion, Bishop kicked his legs to the floor and popped up to sitting again. “Your mother told me you’ve come into this blind. You don’t even have—” he pursed his lips with thought, “what’s the American word for it? Angel guy? Uh… Winging friend?”
My mind flashed back to that first conversation with Michaela. “Wingman.”
“Yes!” Bishop clapped his hands. “That! I’ll be that for you. Helping you vet these beautiful women one by one.” Humbly, he shrugged. “And if they happen to need comfort and a shoulder to cry on, then Bob’s your uncle, so be it, I’m there.”
“Always the giver, aren’t you?” I stared at my feet as I chuckled softly. Tipping my chin up, I squinted at him. “You’re a scoundrel, you know that?”
It wasn’t meant to be a matter of pride, but he beamed just the same. “Actually,” his tongue ran along the front of his teeth like a fox sizing up a hen house, “that American, Michaela, she’s something, isn’t she?”
My muscles twitched with immediate defensive instinct. “Scouting territory before I even cast it off?”
“Not at all.” Bishop’s hands came up, but he tilted his head as he considered his options. “If, by chance, you wanted to let her go early, I wouldn’t mind a round or two with her.”
“She’s too good for you.” I stood up and peeled my shirt off, leaving me in only my undershirt and slacks. I needed to get ready. This conversation made me uncomfortable in ways I couldn’t explain. The idea of Bishop starting up with Coco… or anyone really for that matter… it made my skin twitch. Michaela was…
Mine.
But she wasn’t. Not really. Our friendship didn’t hold her in reserve, forcing her to avoid relationships because I wasn’t willing to share. One day, she would find her own spouse, but I wasn’t looking to speed up the process.
Bishop, however, didn’t pick up on my lack of desire to speak on the subject. Rising to his feet, he followed me into my bedroom. “You seem like chums, that’s all.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms against his chest. Once more the need to flee rose up in me. Why did everyone have to bring this up? “She’s ineligible to rule, so I don’t see why she’s still h—”
“Because I need her!” I whirled to face him, chest rising and falling faster than needed for such a simple phrase. I dropped my volume, bringing my emotions into check. “She’s… special.”
“Fine.” Bishop showed me his hands and straightened, a sign that he was backing off. “I’ll be in the wings watching tonight. Gotta say, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, Cousin.”
As I listened to his footfalls leave, I counted my breaths, trying to find some sense of control. I couldn’t explain my reaction. Dread filled my chest at the thought of the ceremony. One thing was certain—Bishop wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be in my shoes.
Michaela
I knocked on Sadie’s door. While waiting, I adjusted the eight dresses slung over my arm. With everything stacked against her, I was determined fashion wouldn’t join that list ever again.
“Michaela,” her wide eyes stared at me for a few seconds after she opened the door, “what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“I will.” I held up the dresses. “But I thought you might want to raid my closet before the ceremony tonight. You’re tiny, but I think with a little last-minute tailoring, I can make it work.”
“I—that’s—” She shook her head, unbelieving. “Why are you doing this?”
Sadie looked at me like I was going to bibbidi-bobbidi-boo the whole night, and I was good, but I was no fairy godmother. Just someone who’d been in her shoes before. I didn’t deserve the credit she was giving me.
“Let’s just say I’ve been the poor girl up on stage before, and I know how it feels. Can I come in?”
She backed away and opened the door. To my surprise, Blair sat on the edge of her bed, just as surprised to see me.
“Michaela? What are you doing here?”
I entered Sadie’s room, noting it was a third smaller than mine, with no balcony, and certainly no secret passage bookcase either. She had only four goats in the room as well, whereas I had counted at least seven in my room. It felt strangely satisfying being a seven-goat woman… Not that I understood the significance.
Blair stared like I had intruded on something. Were they friends? I hadn’t seen them talk before, and yet Blair looked guilty beyond belief. It reminded me of when I would leave the dressing room at a pageant and when I came back no one would talk to me. It didn’t take long before I figured out that it was because they were talking about me.
“Blair’s room is just around the corner. She came by for tea and a chat.” Sadie’s hands tangled together as she explained the situation, like a child caught in the middle of a divorce. “Michaela brought some dresses for me, so that… well… you know.”
“So those arrogant ladies of court will stop making you the git in every joke? Fallon certainly took her swipes at you today.” Blair’s anger spiked as she looked at the dresses on my arm. “You’re flogging a dead horse, Michaela. We shouldn’t have to dress up like a sideshow to get anyone’s attention.”
“Uh… sorry. I feel like I’m coming in late on something.” I set the stack of dresses on the navy-blue and gold bedspread. The divide between them and the others wasn’t new, but they were acting like shots had been fired recently. “Is everything cool? Did something happen?”
The crackle of the fire filled the silence, paired with the faintest whiff of smoke. They exchanged glances, but other than annoyance, I couldn’t read their minds. Blair refused to talk, but Sadie found the courage to explain. “They rigged the competition. Blair had wet wood.”
“Everything out there was damp.” I didn’t like making excuses when we’d clearly lost. “The other team probably had—”
“Dry wood,” Blair finished. “Fallon was quick to gloat when we got back. She let me know there was no chance I would ever get time with the prince. She called Sadie a gutter snipe and told her she belonged under a bridge with the rest of the trolls.” Her volume dropped. “Even worse, I probably belong with her. I’m still the token common girl, the chauffeur’s daughter, title change or not.”
What she was saying wasn’t fair. Blair, Eirene, and Sadie all had too much stacked against them as it was, but to literally force their loss with a rigged game…
“Prince Leonidas couldn’t have been behind it.” I had to stand up for him. “If he had known then he never would have let it happen. He’s—”
“Like the rest of them,” Blair spoke over me. “I thought maybe he wasn’t, but it looks like I was wrong.” Her face tipped toward the ceiling as she blinked back tears. “Maybe I should leave before this gets any more embarrassing.”
“No.” I wouldn’t let her, or Sadie, or Eirene give up because there were bullies out to get them. I knew how to navigate rocky waters, so to speak, and I usually did it while wearing stiletto heels. “I’ll coach you. Hair, makeup, the works. We’re going to blow the competition out of the water. Starting tonight.”
“By looking like them?” Blair wasn’t convinced.
“By leveling the playing field.” I held up one of my dresses. “I competed for years with rich girls who didn’t care if I fell face first on stage with a whole auditorium watching. I learned that I could use my appearance to show those judges that I had a lot more going for me than any one of those snooty brats.”
Sadie’s excited stare bounced between me and Blair. “Can you make my eyes look like yours? Smoky and posh?”
“Even better,” I promised. To Blair, I made a final plea. “If you leave the competition now, all those spoiled nobles will win. But you have more brains and substance to you than they could ever hope for. You are a force to be reckoned with. Give me twenty minutes and I’ll have the whole kingdom talking about you by morning.”