27. Chapter 27
Michaela
“ M ilady?” A gentle nudge pushed my shoulder. “Milady, please wake up.”
I cracked one eyelid open but kept the other one closed tight for balance. Maybe if I didn’t open both I could go back to sleep.
“What is it, Dahlia?”
“Your phone. Your mother is calling.” She held up my buzzing phone. “It’s been going for about twenty minutes.”
Well, that ruined the whole go back to sleep plan.
I took the phone from Dahlia and answered the call. “Mom?”
“Oh, so you are alive. Majorie wasn’t sure. She fed me this crazy story about going out of the country to see Fitz, of all people, and I said, no way would my Michaela traipse off to another country without so much as mentioning it to her mother.” She let the heavy silence land. “Right?”
“I was going to call.”
“Michaela! I saw you on the news!” Oh boy, we’d swerved right past freaking out and were headed straight for going postal. “Are you that desperate to find a man?”
That wasn’t great for my self-esteem. “No, that’s not it, Mom.”
“Your picture is everywhere. They’re calling you the American princess. You’re airing on the Hollywood channel. What on earth is going on?”
I sighed and hoped I could get back in Fitz’s good graces enough to have him cover the cost of my international call. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything.”
Fitz
Originally, we were supposed to take a weekend ski trip to the chalet in the mountains. But Coco had sparked another thought in my mind.
“Your watch, Sir.” Carlisle held out my favorite watch and I nodded permission for him to put it on my wrist while I penned the last words in the message.
She was right, unfortunately. I wouldn’t learn anything about these women unless I started to see them outside the glitz of royal life. If I wasn’t careful, I would end up with a spoiled brat, not a wife.
Reginald stopped outside my bedroom doors, expectant. I held up the card without a word. He retrieved it, but upon reading the words, his mouth tipped into a frown.
“Is this wise, Your Highness?”
I understood his hesitance, but I’d made up my mind. “Yes, in fact, it’s overdue if you ask me. This is the sort of thing I should have done long ago.”
“There will be wailing, Your Highness.” Reginald’s dry sarcasm felt a little too rich for the time of day.
“I understand that, but if they’re here for me, then they won’t harbor too much ill will over skipping the slopes.”
His skepticism didn’t show, but I felt it anyway. “As you wish.” He turned and exited, leaving me to second-guess myself again.
It wasn’t that the idea was terrible, rather my thought that I needed to make it a competition. A part of me feared I was about to witness a blood bath, and at the Children’s Hospital, no less.
Michaela
Someone shoved into me and I accidentally elbowed Esme.
“Mind your bony bits,” she snapped at me.
“Sorry,” I whispered under my breath. I never meant to end up in this dog pile, but Reginald handed the note to me at breakfast and there wasn’t much I could do once the rest of them wanted to know what Fitz had planned.
“Go on then,” Gwen urged. “Speak up.”
“May I lick it?” Dagny asked. “Oh! Or perhaps we could fold it into a little plane and send it back. Imagine the fun.”
“I’ll just read it, thanks.” She had a way of making my mind go blank, at least for a couple of seconds. “You can have it when I’m done, okay?”
“Fabulous.” She leaned closer to Chantal. “Royal stationary is the best kind. A little sweet with a hint of pretentious pride. Really cuts through the decadence of it.”
I shook my head and stared at the card, begging my brain to work instead of trying to decipher Dagny’s latest nonsense.
Instead of carving slopes, be ready to spread hope.
Hard to tell what the day will entail,
but keep in mind the one with the biggest heart will prevail.
“Well, it’s not as eloquent as the others, is it?” Blair’s mouth turned downward. “And that penmanship. Written in haste I presume. Looks like a monkey had a go at it.”
I tried to smother my laughter. Every other card we’d received was written in professional calligraphy, but this was the handwriting I would recognize anywhere. Fitz had taken a minute to try to be a poet.
“More importantly,” Chantal pointed at the card, “what does that mean?”
Esme spoke up. “Whoever wins the contest gets a date with the prince, right?” She glanced between us, trying to gain confirmation for her guess.
“But how do we win?” Blair’s competitive nature flared to life. “The biggest heart could mean anything.”
“Maybe…” Every time Dagny started talking, I braced myself for what would come next. “They’re going to gouge our hearts out and weight them?”
“Or something else a little less drastic,” I suggested.
Dagny shrugged as if I was the one off-base. After spending the morning trying to explain to my mother that things weren’t as dramatic as they seemed on TV, I really hoped I wouldn’t be proven wrong. She was mad enough that I might not be home for the holidays.
Whatever Fitz had cooked up on a whim better not drive Mom further over the ledge.
The five-story building loomed over us, a bit imposing and entirely intimidating. Grey walls of concrete and massive glass panes gave it a stern and austere feeling. More like a prison than a hospital. I read the words on the plaque near the entrance, still a little confused about the prince’s plans.
Welcome to the Nolcovian Children’s Hospital
After snowy outings and sleigh rides, shopping trips and gifts, this felt off-script. I’d mentioned that he needed to see the women serve, but did he actually listen to me? Dahlia had told me the day before that she’d heard we would be skiing, but it sure didn’t look that way.
“So, are we carving out the children’s hearts as well?” Dagny asked as she stopped next to me.
I wasn’t the only one who shot her a horrified look.
“Come on, Dag,” Blair urged, “let’s find you something constructive to do.”
“Preferably away from scissors and sharp objects,” Esme added.
We entered the building and were promptly escorted to the third floor. My heart clenched as I saw the sign above the arch.
Orphan’s Wing
I knew what it was like to live without a father, but these children, they had no one. If anyone needed love, it was them.
Beneath the arch, a woman about five feet tall welcomed us with a warm smile. “Hello. My name is Helen Vonderbeth. I’m the director of activities here at the hospital. We are so honored to have you with us today. The children are incredibly excited to have playmates for the day. I encourage you to get to know them, learn their interests, and maybe exchange information so you can be their pen pals. Not only are these children chronically ill, but they are without family. This time of year, that burden is especially heavy.”
“We’ll do our best, Ms. Vonderbeth,” Fitz’s voice came from behind us, startling our crowd to break apart in surprise. Before anyone could bow or react, Fitz was quick to call us off. “Please, as you were. We’re all in this together today, yes? Spreading hope to those who need it most.”
When had he snuck in? I set my palm over my chest to try to convince my heart not to race away from me, but the way he looked, I found it pounding for entirely new reasons.
The grey suit highlighted his masculine features, cut broad over his shoulders, but tapered to his waist, making his chest look as muscular as I already knew it was. The suit was paired with a dusty-blue tie that matched his eyes and brought out the deepest shades, dark like the depths of Winderlam Forest. After our interlude by the fire, I knew the angle of his jaw, but the way it flexed, muscles shifting powerfully to remind me of his strength, left me a little weak. For the first time since that initial night, he wore a crown, though instead of gold, the silver metal matched his suit, offset with sapphires at every peak. His warmth showed as he smiled at the crowd, obviously amused that he was able to get the drop on us.
Smiling at everyone, that is, except me.
All his warmth faded away, leaving me with nothing but indifference. Unable to stomach the sharp contrast, I turned my attention back to the director for our instructions while flirty voices fawned over the prince.
Because that’s who he felt like at this point—the prince, not my oldest friend. I don’t know why I thought we could act like things were fine between us. He blatantly told me he was still angry, but I guess I hoped a good night’s sleep would give him a more rational view on life.
I didn’t even kiss Bishop.
But then, if Fitz hadn’t come, could I say that I wouldn’t have?
Helen led the way into an expansive room filled with books and toys, seating arrangements, vaulted ceilings, and a small indoor play structure. Most were old and a little dilapidated, but I could see how much the staff had tried to create an uplifting space for the children. It reminded me of all the time and effort Mom put into making our house look nice after Dad died and money got tight. She painted artwork on my bedroom walls, repurposed finds from the thrift store, and kept everything tidy so that I wouldn’t feel the strain of being different from my friends. Of course, I always felt it, but I felt her love stronger than the lack. Looking around, that’s what I felt again. The staff at the hospital loved these kids.
“If you’ll wait here, I’ll go and fetch the children.” Helen turned to leave us in the playroom, but she’d no sooner turned around than a little girl in pigtails poked her head around the corner. Helen stooped low and spoke in a gentle voice, “Kova, why are you out here alone? Where’s Miss Ash?”
“She’s coming.” Little Kova couldn’t have been more than four years old. “Are the princesses here?”
“ Future princesses, my love. And yes,” she motioned to the lot of us, “they’ve arrived.”
Tingles erupted over my skin as her large green eyes took us all in. I’d missed this feeling. It was my favorite part of being a party princess. Not the gown, not the tiara, but the look in a child’s eyes when they started to believe fairytales really could come true. Life robbed too many children of that while they were far too young.
“Hi,” Kova whispered as she tucked her arms behind her back and gave a short curtsy.
Unable to stop myself, I took a step forward, fully intending to give her my undivided attention, but before I took another step, someone else beat me to the mark.
“Hello, Kova.” Sadie moved ahead of me, reaching her hand out to the small child. “My name is Lady Sadira, but you can call me Sadie.”
I stepped back into line, gritting my teeth, disappointment sharp. There would be other children to help. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t get a chance to make a difference. The growing tumult of squeals and delight were already moving steadily toward us from the hall. It didn’t matter that Sadie had beat me to being the first to reach out to Kova.
But as I turned to face the entry, I caught a look at Fitz’s face.
Absolute adoration and respect.
And all of it was aimed at Sadie.
Not me.