Chapter Sixteen #2
The capsule swayed faintly as it passed another on its descent. Allegra forced herself not to look straight down. Nate, meanwhile, leaned back. “Okay,” he said, like they were sitting in a café instead of dangling a hundred feet above solid ground. “Any other big revelations?”
She glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve never been on a Ferris wheel. Which is insane, by the way. What else are you hiding?”
The word hiding dropped straight through her like a stone down a well.
Oh, nothing major. Just an entirely fabricated life.
Austrian art student. Parents who worked in an office.
Cheerfully average citizen on a wholesome European jaunt.
It had felt clever at the time—low-drama camouflage so she could cosplay Normal Human Woman for five damn minutes.
Totally harmless, she’d told herself. And she’d been so good at not thinking about it.
But sitting across from him now, it tasted like ash.
Like she’d borrowed a life she hadn’t earned.
He was watching her, head tilted slightly, his expression more intrigued than anything else. Which only made it worse. Heat rushed into her cheeks, her pulse kicking hard against her ribs.
She could tell him.
He was leaving in a day. She was leaving—sooner, probably, if her father’s people had anything to say about it.
What was the worst that could happen? Nate wasn’t about to whip out his phone, snap a pic, and auction off their story.
He’d never once treated her like a means to an end. Only as someone worth knowing.
The capsule creaked higher, sunlight splintering across the curved glass.
Okay, now or never.
Allegra’s thoughts ping-ponged, grasping for the least insane way to confess.
Oh, by the way, I’m a princess. Surprise!
No, too jazz hands. Maybe ease into it. So, remember how I said I was studying art?
Funny thing—turns out I’m more of a patron of the arts.
Or go full dramatic. Nate, there’s something you should know.
My surname comes with its own national anthem.
God, why was this so hard? She’d had literal media training. She could spin a line to journalists in three languages. She cleared her throat, her heart hammering so hard she could feel it in her fingertips. “Okay, so I don’t know how to—”
The Ferris wheel shuddered. A metallic groan tore through the air, and the carriage jerked to a stop so abruptly that Allegra lurched forward, her knee slamming into Nate’s. The capsule swung wildly, then settled with a final, ominous creak.
A burst of static crackled from a speaker somewhere below, followed by a tinny, apologetic voice in French: “Mesdames et messieurs, nous rencontrons un léger problème technique. Nous vous remercions de votre patience. Nous redémarrerons l’attraction très bient?t.”
“Technical issue?” Nate asked, half laughing, half not.
“Uh-huh,” Allegra said, pressing her forehead against the glass. “We’ll be moving soon.” She looked down. Glittering water. Tiny figures moving like ants. And the man in a black suit, standing perfectly, unnervingly still, peering up. Allegra yanked her head back so fast the capsule rocked again.
“Woah.” Nate braced himself against the bench. “Not a fan of heights, huh?”
Allegra shook her head. “Nope.”
Nate studied her for a beat. Then, without a word, he reached over and took her hand. Not in a rescuing-her-from-peril way. Not in a you’re-fragile way. Just warm fingers sliding into hers, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Wanna hear something embarrassing?” he said.
She nodded, her throat tight. “Always.”
“I don’t exactly love these either.”
“Ferris wheels?”
“Yeah.” He tipped his chin toward the glass. “The whole suspended-in-the-air-by-bolts-and-optimism thing?” A shrug. “Not my favorite.”
Allegra narrowed her eyes. “That’s why you’ve been looking at me instead of the view?”
His lips quirked. He inhaled like he was about to deliver a line worthy of a movie trailer. Then his cheek twitched. “Sure.”
The Ferris wheel rumbled back to life. The carriage eased forward, beginning its slow descent. Nate didn’t let go of her hand. She didn’t pull away. In fact, she tightened her fingers. This is it, she told herself. Say it. Before you lose your nerve.
She opened her mouth.
And felt his thumb brush across her knuckles.
The words fizzled out.
Because he might not sell her out—but he’d absolutely recalibrate. Men didn’t hear I’m secretly royal and stay the same. They stood up straighter. They said ma’am. They pretended to adore civic shrubbery. And she very much preferred the Nate who was ready to fist-fight a flower clock.
Just one more day, she bargained with herself. One more day of this. Of him.
The capsule dipped toward the platform. Allegra risked a glance through the glass. The man in the dark suit was walking away, fading into the crowd. She exhaled, letting the tight coil around her ribs loosen.
Nate’s fingers slipped from hers as the wheel eased into its second rotation, leaving behind a lingering warmth in her palm.
As they crested the top again, Allegra made a split-second decision. She pulled out her phone and scooted across the bench until her thigh pressed firmly against his.
“Seeing as I’m finally conquering one of these,” she declared, lifting the camera high so the skyline spilled behind them, “there will be photographic evidence I looked hot and fearless.”
“Sure. Fearless,” Nate said dryly.
She jabbed him in the ribs. “Careful, Mr. Suspicious of Structural Engineering. I look enigmatic. That’s a different genre entirely. Hold still.”
The capsule jerked into its downward glide just as she snapped the photo, catching his half-laugh and her wide-eyed, slightly manic grin.
She checked it quickly, then shifted back into her own side. “Oh. I look good.”
Nate snorted then rapped lightly on the glass. “You know what would be great right now? Being out on one of those.”
She followed his finger to a sleek speedboat carving a white scar across the lake. “Yes,” she said immediately. “Let’s.”
He flashed his teeth. “About that. Looked into it. Thought I’d surprise you.”
“And?”
“And,” he continued, pinching an eyebrow, “apparently if you want a prayer of availability, you have to book something weeks in advance.”
She looked at him—the way his mouth quirked in that self-deprecating smile, the way he acted like he’d failed her when all he’d done was try—and something inside her shifted.
A reckless, giddy warmth spread through her ribs.
Tomorrow, he’d be halfway across the world.
She’d return to a world of motorcades and people who corrected her mid-breath. So why let this end small?
She’d spent her life being reasonable. She wanted memorable.
“I have an idea,” she said.
His brows lifted. “That’s an uh-oh, right?”
She considered it. “Maybe.”
“I’m listening. Nervously.”
“It’ll have to wait until it’s dark,” she added.
His eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of intrigue there. “Will this idea involve bail money?”
“Uhhhh.”
“That’s reassuring.”
She leaned in close.
“Trust me.”