Loyally, Luke, page 29
Matt: Definitely not the ending Penelope prefers, but you’re a good man, Luke. I feel certain, even if you never know it, you’ve made a good difference in Princess Elliana’s life.
Luke: Thanks, Matt. I’m sure that will make me feel better in the long run.
Matt: Yeah, right now everything just sucks.
Luke: Pretty much.
Matt: I’m here if you need to talk.
Luke: Thanks. I appreciate it.
Luke sat by the small table in the cottage, sipping his coffee and staring down at the screen of his phone. The headline inspired a bout of nausea.
Prodigal Princess at it again.
He skimmed the first paragraph, detailing how Ellie skipped out on the Donors’ Banquet in order to spend time with her secret boyfriend behind the Duke of Styles’s back.
Just enough truth in there to make it feel real.
They even spun it to imply that she’d been shirking her other duties to spend time with him in secret. But who would believe they actually had a kissing match on the ground in a snowstorm?
He looked back at the photos. One was of her lying on top of him, her face turned toward the cameraman, which only helped with identification. The second was a photo of them removing their jackets. Nothing explicit, but enough to spur all sorts of innuendos.
He ran a hand over his face.
How was Ellie? Should he text her? Would she want that or would it just make things worse for her?
He closed the site and growled, taking another sip of his coffee.
Oh, how he wanted to fix this, but what could he do? Nothing. No wonder the press infuriated people so much. They had the power to spout off whatever and people just had to deal with it.
Or ignore it.
Which was what Luke preferred.
With a moan, he shook his head and tapped on the photo icon, skimming through a few photos of his recent reno to send to Lewis Gray, when a photo within the collection caught his attention.
Ellie with a fishing rod?
He opened it.
But it wasn’t a photo at all. It was a video. His pulse skittered into a faster pace. The video he’d been taking when Ellie fell in the lake. He tapped the Play button and grinned as she cast the line, then looked back at him with a proud grin. Yep, he was keeping this video as long as he could. Just to see her looking back at him every now and then.
Then she looked back again, but this time she looked worried. Was that when she’d seen the reporter?
The line tightened and she called out that she had something. He heard his own voice encouraging her to reel it in. Then the event played out before him. Her pulling on the line, her attention looking out across the lake, the stumble, and then the fall through the ice.
He paused the video and rewound it a little, then zoomed in to the area where Ellie had looked. A figure became visible, almost hidden in the trees. Then in the next frame, he came out from his position, camera in hand.
Luke allowed the video to continue playing, but it didn’t stop after Ellie fell through the ice. No, the screen went somewhat black, but he could still hear the voices. His and Ellie’s.
He must have pushed the phone into his pocket without turning off the recording.
Their conversation, his intentions, her response came through loud and clear. But was it important for any reason?
Text from Luke to Penelope and Izzy: I have an idea. It may take some of your magic to work, but right now, I’m banking on some. I’ll even take a bit of pixie dust too, if you have some to spare.
Penelope: Channel Julie Andrews. That’s even more reliable.
Izzy: And praying would probably be a good choice (you two heathens).
Luke: Well, I started with that.
Izzy: Nice. I’m glad to hear your priorities are in order. Not sure about Penelope’s sometimes.
Penelope: Hey now. Matt and I prayed for Luke and Ellie as soon as I stopped crying.
Luke: Well, keep ’em coming. I’m not sure how this will help and I get nauseous at the very idea of what I might have to do, but I think I know someone who can give me some direction.
* * *
“I don’t know how we can repair this, Elliana.” Her mother pressed her fingers into her forehead as she sat in a chair across from her in their parents’ sitting room. “And after you’d made such progress with your public reputation.” The weariness in her mother’s voice pricked at Ellie’s spine, but she attempted to maintain her composure.
She was not sorry for being with Luke.
She only hated another reason for her parents to have to fight for her public credibility.
“Oh, Elliana. I never wanted this for you, darling.” Her mother’s tender response drew Ellie’s attention. “Why did you go?”
Ellie paused. Myriad answers swarmed through her, all right and good, but how could she fully explain so her mother would hear her? She caught her father’s look and the idea emerged. “Because I love him and I wanted to spend one more day with him.”
“Love him?” Mother glanced over at Father as if he’d provide some help. “You barely know him.”
“I know him well enough to realize that I feel at home when I’m with him. That he makes me a better version of myself because I don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. And I love—” Air burst out in a voiceless laugh. “I love loving him. So yes, I wanted to capture whatever memories I could for whatever time I had, at whatever cost. And I’m sorry to have placed you and Father in this situation, but I am not sorry for choosing to be with him.”
“Life is hard for two people of such different backgrounds, Elliana. The sacrifices . . . the choices . . . the ridicule.”
“Would you have become the strong, confident woman you are right now if the road had been easy, Mother?”
Her mother’s expression softened and something close to a smile gentled her concern. “No, likely I would not, but I also would not wish such hardship on you—on any of my children, especially with all you’ve already borne.”
And then Ellie understood the stubbornness, saw it for what it really was. A mother’s protection. An act of love. Ellie moved forward and lowered to her knees, taking her mother’s hands in hers. “One of the best women I know was refined by love and hardship, and I hope to be half the woman she is.”
Ellie could count on one hand the times she’d seen her mother cry, but the regal woman’s eyes filled and overflowed down her cheeks. “Perhaps there are some things I can learn from you?” She sniffled through her light laugh.
“I think every royal house needs a thorough commoner thrown into it now and again.” Ellie stood and took the seat next to her mother. “Look at the excellent perspective you brought to Father’s life and this country. Your view on education reform has been the bedrock of so many healthy educational changes here, and it stems from your history. A history”—Ellie looked over at Father with a smile—“of which you should be extremely proud.”
Ellie reached for her bag and brought out the journal. “I found this journal at Cambric. It’s the beautiful story of simple people experiencing hardship, falling in love, and then becoming people who brought positive change to those around them. People from your town in Crieff.” She pressed the journal into her mother’s hands. “The regular people of Skymar want their royals to marry those who will support Skymar and bring good change to our country, no matter where that person is from. Because when we’re loved well, it is no matter whether that person be a king”—she gestured toward her father—“or a commoner. That type of love makes us stronger, better versions of ourselves so we can serve others out of the overflow.”
Mother’s palm pressed against her chest. “That’s . . . lovely.”
“It is.” Ellie smiled, tapping the journal. “And I think you’d like this story because it will remind you of the good of who you were, even as a commoner.” She gestured toward Father. “But also of the greatness of what being in love has done, even despite, and sometimes because of, the hardships.”
Mother looked over at Father, her pale eyes watery and tender. He smiled in a way that communicated his love for her.
“And this is how you feel for Mr. Edgewood?” Mother wiped at a tear beneath her eye.
“I do.”
“He’s worthy of a princess then?” Father chimed in, a smile in his voice.
Ellie looked from her mother to her father, her smile growing at the idea of Luke trying to fit into her world. “Worthy? Oh yes, but . . . while he may not be the sort of man you would choose for your princess, he is certainly the sort of man you should choose for your daughter. I would choose him, because he would make me a better person.”
“You could choose to go with him, you know.” Mother held her gaze. “This royal life doesn’t have to be yours.”
“The past three years, I’ve realized how much I love this country and the ability to serve our people. Before, I resented my station and my responsibilities, but now I see the honor and privilege of being an agent of change for good in a way few other people have the power or influence to do. I choose this family first, this calling as a royal.”
Her mother’s eyes filled with tears again. “And . . . and he won’t stay for you?”
The question stabbed her heart, but she raised her chin to face the reality head-on. “Should his love for his life and his people prove any less influential or important than mine?” The memory of how he’d wrapped his arms around her on the cabin couch and just let her rest against him came to mind, and she almost smiled. “If . . . if he thought I needed him to stay, I believe he would, because that’s who he is, but that isn’t fair to him.” She sat taller. “Or to me.”
“What do you mean?” Her father came and sat across from her.
“He should stay first and foremost because he chooses this life, not because he thinks I need him to stay.” She blinked back the tears, refusing them exit. “We both have made a choice to move forward with our lives separately because he knows I love this place, these people, and I will not betray your trust in me again, but he cannot spend all of his life in a royal world.” A sad sort of chuckle emerged at the thought of him in a world of constant balls and royal responsibilities. “He would try. I know he would, but having to live in this life all the time . . . well, I think a part of him would fade and I . . . I love him much more than to ask him to give up his world entirely for mine.” She drew in a breath, attempting to brace her heart against the ache. “And since there is not a world in between, then we’ve made this choice. Together.”
Chapter 21
The Daily Edge: Social Tattle from One Edge of Skymar to the Other
Our Prodigal Princess Elliana has taken another hard fall this week. Only two days before the most illustrious social event of the season, the Wild Hyacinth Ball, the Earl of Tallon has been taken to hospital and will no longer attend. Appendicitis appears to be the culprit, but some sources say that the princess’s most recent snowy escapade with her “American country boy” forced Tallon’s hand and he doesn’t wish to have his reputation at risk by her behavior.
With the ball only two days away, will the King and Queen still continue with their plans to give our scandalous princess back her royal duties? And if so, who will be her plus-one for this notoriously coupled ball? Our tattlers want to know.
Text from Maeve to Ellie: I hate The Edge. Not only are they doubting poor Timid Timothy’s health report, but they’re digging at you again.
Maeve: You have access to a whole host of torture devices in the archives of the castle. Maybe it’s time to see if they still work.
Ellie: I think you may need to stop watching medieval documentaries or cut back on the caffeine.
Maeve: Seriously, they’re trying to hit your reputation wherever they can. Do they even consider how you feel? No! You don’t have a date for the BIGGEST ROYAL EVENT OF THE YEAR! Jerks! Plus, I’m calling them a few very creatively nasty names in my mind.
Ellie: Putting things in capitalizations doesn’t help my nerves, Maeve. I’m fully aware of the importance of this occasion. Not only as a highly anticipated event but as a night for me, in particular.
Maeve: And your parents are still going to restore you? After everything?
Ellie: Yes. In fact, my mother even said something about growing from her own mistakes to stand by the woman they know I am, regardless of what the world may say.
Maeve: Your mom said that?
Ellie: The journal really impacted her. Grounded her, I think, in her past and the value of being loved well. She even said that being loved makes us stronger, but loving well does too. And she wants to love me well in this moment and in the future.
Maeve: I’m not crying, you’re crying. Wow. Ellie. That’s amazing.
Ellie: There was something different in both of them today. I can’t explain it. It was almost like they were attempting to contain their excitement for me, despite everything.
Maeve: I’m so glad to hear it. You ARE ready for this moment, friend.
Maeve: So do you need me to be your plus-one for the ball? I am willing to drop the total ten I’m bringing if you need me. I just want you to know how much I love you.
Ellie: Your willingness to sacrifice humbles me, but I just had a talk with my parents and . . . I’ve decided to go alone.
Maeve: Is there even a precedent for that? The Hyacinth has been around for two centuries, and I’ve never heard of anyone, especially royalty, showing up alone.
Ellie: I admit I’m terrified, but I’ve been living in the fear of what people think for much too long, and I think it’s time to set a new precedent. At least to show the skeptics I’m not afraid of them anymore.
Maeve: I am so proud of you, my friend.
Maeve: But if you do get extra nervous, look my way. Or take my arm. Or whatever you need to do. I’m here for you.
Ellie: Just pray I don’t stumble down the stairs along with walking alone. If I’m going to enter on my own, I would love for it to be grand, glorious, and accident-free.
* * *
This was crazy.
Luke pulled at the collar of his button-down as he waited for the door in front of him to open.
Ridiculous. Probably the craziest thing, outside of college, he’d ever done.
He looked over at Jackson, the PR person for the king. He’d been good enough to give Luke a thorough review of what would happen during the press conference. Once Taugen House released a part of the video of Ellie breaking through the ice to their trusted news sources, then every other network would snatch it up like chocolate at a junior high girls’ sleepover. He shuddered. He’d been witness to too many of those in his lifetime.
“We will permit a few questions,” Jackson relayed, dipping his head in Luke’s direction. “But only a few. Enough for the reporters to feel somewhat engaged, and then we will finish.”
“Ten minutes at most, you said,” Luke repeated back to the man from their earlier conversation.
Jackson dipped his head again. “Keep to your script and our conversation. You will be fine.”
Luke swallowed the lemon-sized lump in his throat and rubbed a sweaty palm down the side of his slacks. He hated speaking in front of people. And right now, he was getting ready to speak to the press. What sort of idiot was he?
He squeezed his eyes closed and Ellie’s face came to mind.
An idiot in love, it seemed.
Love. Bah.
And yet even his internal Mr. Scrooge gave way to a sweet sort of warmth at the memory of Ellie in his arms. Her laugh. Her humor and conversation.
He was a sap.
A stupid, sentimental, ridiculous sap.
And he’d never been happier than when he spent time with her.
His shoulders slumped.
A stupid, sentimental, ridiculous sap who was giving his first press conference and then leaving Skymar with a broken heart and some of the best memories of his life. Who wrote this story? He looked heavenward with a raised brow.
“One minute,” Jackson said, touching his earpiece and meeting Luke’s gaze for a second.
Luke took a deep breath to help calm the nerves, but it was just a stupid trick that never worked.
In an attempt to prepare himself, he’d spent a good half hour looking up press conferences on YouTube before arriving at Taugen House. Even—his stomach twinged at the mental admission—watching the scene from Notting Hill since it involved a commoner and a famous person.
A truth he was NEVER revealing to his youngest sister.
“It’s time,” Jackson said, leading the way forward.
Mr. Erikson—another advisor—followed behind Luke and held the door.
The paper in Luke’s hands crinkled in time with the mild squeak of the door, and then Luke crossed the threshold.
A few flashes greeted him from the dozen reporters in the room. A smile or two maybe, which took him off guard. He wasn’t quite expecting people to be foaming at the mouth and shouting, “Off with his head,” but a sense of welcome certainly hadn’t been in the mental script.
Luke waited by the door as Jackson approached the lectern. The poised man greeted the room and then continued with his introduction.
“As many of you are aware, a video was released earlier today giving evidence of Her Highness Princess Elliana’s near-death experience in a frozen lake in the North Country. This incident was instigated by the presence of paparazzi on private property within the Yarrow Fell. It is an unusual step for the royal family to respond to recent allegations related to the princess’s private life, but since these false allegations include a private citizen who is a guest in our country”—he gestured toward Luke—“Taugen House has called this press conference. The private citizen, Mr. Edgewood, has offered to take a few questions in the interest of truth.”
Jackson’s steely gaze roamed over the audience, the pause creating a palpable discomfort. “Keep in mind, Mr. Edgewood’s courtesy will only last as long as you are polite.”
Jackson stepped back from the lectern, giving way for Luke to approach.
