Royal Catch, page 14
He cradles my face with one hand. “You could be a great help to Villroy, to me—”
“Tell me about your wild days before you were all duty and obligation.”
“Please consider staying. That’s all I ask.”
“I’m tied to my responsibilities back home. It’s impossible.”
“Not impossible.”
I know I can’t let it go further. He still thinks I’m a princess. If I tell him the truth, he’ll hate me. He’s in love with a fantasy.
I shift off of him and sit up. “I should go.”
His hand clamps on my wrist. “Stay and I will tell you of my wild days.”
I give him a small smile, my heart aching. “I knew you had to have some.” I lie on my side and prop my head on my elbow to listen. And then I find myself grinning as he shares his pranks on his younger siblings as a boy, his teenaged makeout sessions in the very cave where we made out (classic), and even some bar fights that got him a lot of bad press.
“That’s why I kept a low profile for the past several years,” he admits. “I kept out of the press, out of the spotlight, even shaved my beard so I’d be less recognizable. I dishonored my title.”
“Oh, please, you could never dishonor your title. You are honor.” I stroke his arm in a soothing gesture. “Now I know why I didn’t recognize you when we first met and I thought you were the butler. You must’ve been laughing your ass off on the inside!”
He chuckles. “I might’ve been if I wasn’t so pissed off about all that wedding garbage.”
“Furry wedding! It’s still hysterical.”
We laugh. And then he rolls on top of me and kisses me. I close my eyes and let him carry me away from reality once more.
~ ~ ~
I sneak back to my room Sunday morning a little later than I planned, hoping I get there in advance of my maid. It’s not that I care what she thinks about what I do with Gabriel. That’s between me and Gabriel. It’s just that I don’t want to cause problems with Francesca. Leave it to me to fall for a man I can’t have. Maybe that’s why I opened up to him, because it was safe. He could never be a serious consideration for me. Probably some deep abandonment orphan issues in there, but I feel too good right now to dwell on it. It’s astounding the deep happiness of the moment. The memory of our night together will stick with me for a long time.
I step into my room and let out a breath of relief. Still empty. I yank back the covers so it looks like I was there, and head for the luxury of the shower. I’m worn out from our night. Both of us knowing time was running out, we didn’t want to waste a single moment. I close my eyes in the steamy spray, my mind drifting to all the ways we pleasured each other. I sigh and replay it moment by moment.
As far as I know, there are no more competitions, so after my shower I dress in a cute green and white striped sundress with my sandals. Maybe I can relax on the beach today. Maybe Gabriel and his brothers can join me. It’s not the same as just the two of us, but…it’s what I can reasonably do given the Francesca situation.
Someone knocks quietly on the door just as I finish getting dressed. Probably Anna. She’s a quiet sort.
“Come in!” I call.
Anna steps in, does a completely unnecessary curtsy, and says, “The queen has asked for you to appear in her private sitting room as soon as possible.”
Excitement courses through me. The last time I was summoned to the queen’s private sitting room, it was to meet Gabriel. “I’ll go now.”
She follows. “It really is the queen this time.”
“What’s up?”
“I don’t know. She asked for Francesca too.”
A vague memory tickles my brain. Gabriel had mentioned that on Sunday we’d meet with the queen. It had completely slipped my mind in my angst over him. “I guess she’s going to make her choice today.”
“I hope it’s you, Your Highness,” she says warmly, surprising me.
“Thanks, Anna, I appreciate that. I’m sure you must’ve noticed I don’t fit in so well in the royal mold they have going on here. Things are much looser at home.”
“We need more loosening up here. I think you’re perfect, ma’am.”
I stop short, my throat tight. Me? Perfect? I throw my arms around her in a big hug. “You’re the best.”
She blushes and bobs her head. What a sweetheart.
We arrive in the sitting room, which is not the room I met Gabriel in before. Anna does a quick curtsy and disappears.
The queen sits in a highback chair, dressed impeccably in a lavender short-sleeved dress with a white cardigan, probably cashmere. Her expression is as serious as a heart attack. Gabriel sits adjacent to her on a blue velvet sofa. He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Whatever is about to happen, it can’t be good.
I approach the pair and bow my head first to the queen. I curtsy too, though it’s tough with the tight fit of my dress. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”
“Good morning,” she says flatly.
I turn to Gabriel. Our eyes lock in an intense gaze. My pulse skitters, my mouth goes dry, and every nerve ending tingles with electric awareness, tuned in to him. I manage a small curtsy. “Good morning, Your Highness.”
“Good morning, Polly.” Only it sounds like I love you. The warmth in his voice washes over me like a hug. My heart pounds in my ears, and my knees go weak.
The queen arches a brow at him. Apparently she noticed his tone held something more.
Gabriel indicates the matching blue sofa across from him, and I take a seat.
Francesca walks in with her maid, walking at a sedate pace, her eyes downcast. She’s dressed in a white lace dress that makes her olive-toned skin glow. It’s modest with a high neck and short sleeves, ending past her knees. I can’t help but wonder if she was going for a bridal look.
Francesca bows her head to the queen and makes a deep curtsy that she holds for a good five seconds. My curtsy must’ve been an insult. Finally she lifts her head. “It’s an honor to see you again, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to see you too, Francesca.”
Francesca smiles before turning to Gabriel. Her smile drops as she does another deep curtsy to him. “Your Highness.”
“Please have a seat with Polly,” Gabriel says.
She shoots me an icy look before sitting at the far end of the sofa away from me. Her maid hovers behind us.
“I’d like some privacy,” the queen announces, calling off the staff in the room. A few security guards and the servants who previously helped with the competition immediately exit. “You too,” she snaps at Francesca’s maid.
The maid sends Francesca a meaningful look, almost like a mother saying behave, before curtsying to the queen and Gabriel and walking out the door.
The queen folds her hands in her lap and offers us princesses a small smile. “I’ve asked you both here this morning for a final interview. Your answer will lead to one of you being named as the future bride of the crown prince, so please think carefully before responding. First, some background. Villroy is in need of a boost to our economy. We’ve depended on fishing for centuries. It’s an integral part of our traditional way of life. Unfortunately, the fish population is declining, which means the fishermen must travel farther out to sea in deeper waters. It’s more work and they’re bringing less back.”
Gabriel speaks up. “We’re losing the younger generation in search of better jobs. We need better opportunities for them here. A kingdom made up only of the older generation will quickly die out.”
The queen sucks in air through her teeth. I think of her dying husband and understand better why she has seemed so strained every time I’ve seen her. Of course, that might partly be her reaction to me personally. I seem to rub her the wrong way.
Francesca and I wait quietly for the question. She’s on the edge of her seat. I’m not. I won’t give it any thought. I’m just going to say the first thing that comes to mind. If for some insane reason, the queen actually chooses me, which I doubt, I’ll bow out. But I’d never be so disrespectful as to walk out without answering a question that is so important to the queen personally.
Finally, the queen says, “If you were the future queen, what would you do, along with your husband, to ensure the vitality of Villroy’s economy?”
I jump right in, speaking off the top of my head. “Ooh, I know! It’s what every commoner would love—live like royalty for a week at the palace. Make it a girls’ trip or a honeymoon destination. A one-week stay for an exorbitantly high price. It wouldn’t be like the crowd of a wedding party, just a small select group.” That actually sounds right up my alley, so I can’t help but add, “And give them the full beauty experience too, hair, makeup, nails, facials. Almost like a spa. Well, one thing at a time. Probably just start with one beautician who can do all that.” I realize suddenly I’m describing myself and I’m actually jazzed about the idea. “And special beauty products they can purchase to bring home with them, featuring something native to Villroy. Yes! You could also build a day spa with a locally sourced beauty line, set near the beach, but away from the palace.” I know Gabriel doesn’t want tons of tourists trampling through the palace.
Both the queen and Gabriel are staring at me, their expressions giving nothing away. I’m not sure if they think it’s the stupidest idea they’ve ever heard or I just surprised them. I should shut up now, but my mind is racing with ideas. “I’ve heard fish oil can do wonders both inside and out.”
A long silence follows.
Francesca turns to me. “Are you done?”
“Yes.”
She turns to address the queen. “Your Majesty—”
“Seaweed is another possibility,” I blurt. “Natural sea salt scrubs.” I’ve got beautician’s Tourette’s, if that’s a thing. I can’t seem to stop. “Algae.”
Francesca glares at me.
“And now I’m done.” I clamp my mouth shut, even though I just had another great idea for the day spa beauty product line—sponges from the sea. Every product would be all-natural and locally sourced. The fishermen could still be involved, but on a different product.
Francesca turns back to the queen. “Your Majesty, I know Villroy has a long proud history. I would want to preserve that traditional way of life. My idea is to fund a new powerful fleet of fishing vessels that would allow the fishermen to take in more haul in waters that weren’t reachable to them before. I would be happy to contribute to this fleet personally.” She glances at Gabriel, who nods once, before lowering her gaze to the floor.
She’s everything I’m not—wealthy, traditional, demure up the wazoo. This was never a competition. She was born for this role. I was born with nothing. I came from nothing, but I will make something of myself. I have made something of myself. I’ve worked hard every day of my life to get where I am today, but no amount of work can ever make me something I’m not.
I stand, drawing everyone’s attention. “It’s clear to me that Francesca is the better choice in every way. I’m removing myself from the running.”
Francesca allows herself a small smile as she looks straight ahead.
The queen says, “Very well. Francesca is the winner. And, Polly, if you hadn’t been so quick to declare yourself out of the running, I was about to choose her anyway. I far prefer to preserve our way of life than to have random rowdy people parading through our home.”
I bow my head. “Thank you for having me in your lovely home. Goodbye.”
“Wait!” Gabriel is on his feet. “Polly, don’t go.”
“Gabriel,” I beg. He’s going to make this difficult. I can see it in his wild-eyed look.
“Polly’s idea could work,” he tells his mother. “And a one-week stay wouldn’t be any more inconvenient than this week’s competition. Here and gone before you know it. It’s like Phillip’s idea but better, smaller scale and more controlled. And the day spa is brilliant! So much opportunity for growth there, and it could incorporate the fishing industry through the beauty product line. It has real merit. And it’s not like we’d become a resort destination. The spa could attract day-trippers from the mainland.” He turns to me, his eyes full of love. “You’re brilliant.”
My eyes get hot. “Oh, Gabriel, you’re brilliant too. I so admire you and all you do.” My voice is rough, knowing I need to let him go.
“I choose Polly,” he declares.
My lungs seize. Don’t do this.
“Gabriel!” the queen exclaims, standing in her agitation. “We talked about the proper choice.”
“What?” he asks. “That this was all a sham? That you wanted Francesca all along? Well, you don’t get to play your little games anymore. I’m done being bandied about as a prize. I love Polly. I choose love, and you of all people should understand loving the person you spend your life with.”
The queen is unmoved, her tone steel. “You will learn to love Francesca.”
“I won’t,” he says. “Because my heart is already taken.”
It’s so romantic I want to swoon. But one look at Francesca sitting stiffly while the two royals argue over her place makes me realize what I need to do. The honorable thing. The only way out.
“My name isn’t Polly Lyon,” I announce. My legs go wobbly and I sink back to the sofa. Gabriel will never forgive the lie, and I know I’ve lost him forever. I can’t look at him. I stare at my hands and try to gather the strength to walk out the door.
“Who are you?” the queen demands.
I turn to her. “My name is Anna Hebert. I pretended to be Polly, and I’m very sorry.” I risk a look at Gabriel, and his face is twisted in fury. “I tried to be as much myself as I could with you, Gabriel. That part was real.”
His lip curls and he turns his head away like he can’t bear looking at me.
I clear my throat, blinking rapidly. “So it’s clear Francesca is the right choice.”
Security enters the room, rushing toward me.
“I pressed the alert button,” the queen says. “You’re a danger to us, and you must be detained until your departure.”
I gulp, my fingers gripping the sofa cushion. “Detained?”
Two guards haul me to my feet, and then my hands are cuffed behind my back.
Panic shoots through me, my fight-or-flight kicking in hard. “Hey! I’m an American! I have rights.”
“The dungeon,” the queen commands.
“Dungeon!” I shriek. “With spiders?”
Gabriel grimaces.
Francesca remains the picture of decorum, her gaze downcast. Bitch.
The queen says nothing, her expression pure contempt.
I kick and scream, but the four guards easily overpower me. They drag me out of the room, through an endless maze of hallways, down a long flight of stairs to an underground space that’s dark and damp. It smells like swamp. There really are jail cells. The air is deathly cold, and I swear I can hear the cries of tortured spirits left to die down here.
“Don’t you have a police station?” I ask desperately. “A real prison? Take me there.”
“The queen wants this kept quiet,” a guard says.
And the queen has absolute power here. My heart races as they drag me along to the farthest cell in the darkest corner. There are thick cobwebs in the corners of this place. Spiders. Probably rats too and whatever crept in from the underneath. I’m shaking from cold and fear, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.
“Please don’t put me in there,” I cry as one of the guards takes my handcuffs off.
They put me in there. The door clangs shut and he locks it from the outside.
I cross my arms, hugging myself in my thin sundress. The men leave me to my solitary confinement. The only light is through high narrow windows, too narrow for a person to fit through, and there’re bars across them anyway. By sundown, it’ll be pitch black in here. The spiders and God knows what else will slither across the floor and down the walls undetected, making their way to live prey. Me.
A hysterical laugh bubbles up. I’m living the nightmare I feared for Polly, trapped in a cage. Two princesses walk into a prison cell…I got nothing. The joke falls flat. It’s just sad.
There’s no one working from the outside for my freedom. The one person who could has turned against me. And who could blame him? I’ve betrayed his trust.
I sink to the ground in the center of the space, bend my legs, and rest my head on top. Something brushes my arm and I scream, leaping to my feet and slapping at the creepy spider I’m sure touched me.
I will stand all day and all night. I’ll be like a horse and sleep standing up, eyes open. I cross my arms, vigilant for whatever might come at me. And then I burst into tears. I’ve lost Gabriel and there will never be another like him. Not for me.
I gave him his freedom, gave him what he needed to live his life. I don’t get to have needs.
I am Anna Hebert, and I am a liar.
Chapter Fourteen
Anna
Imposter princess incarcerated!
Orphan tries to claim the throne!
Beautician turns ugly in war of royal love!
I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing here in the middle of a spider-infested dungeon, creating awful headlines for myself, but I can’t feel my feet anymore. My sundress and sandals are no match for the chilly dungeon. The sun is nearly set, only a dim creeping light slanting through the bars of the window. I’m alert to every noise, every soft swish and scratching of dungeon wildlife.
I deserve to be devoured by rats. I’ve hurt the man I love, the man who loved me back, who treated me like a jewel. My eyes sting; my cheeks flush with shame. I’ve embarrassed him while he defended me as his choice in front of the queen and Francesca. And now I’ve lost him. My lower lip trembles, and I bite down on it hard.
