Missing Royal (8 page)

They ask me every question they can think of. Everything from who courted me to what I learned and how my adoptive parents treated me. They constantly hug me, wrap their arms around my shoulders, and hold my hand.

They show me the courtyard, through the gardens, and point out where the stables are. My heart quickens seeing them. I need to find my bag and make sure Star is all right, but my parents aren’t letting me out of their sight as we walk every corridor of the castle.

“And these are our quarters. Should you need anything at all no matter the time, you may always come to us,” my mother says firmly. I nod, and so the tour goes on.

Four hours pass and we approach my room—er, quarters. I’m ready to collapse. We didn’t make it out of the castle gates and already I’m exhausted.

“Edda will help you prepare for this evening’s ball. It shall be a grand event.” My mother smiles and closes my door as they leave.

I fall onto the bed and just lay there with no motivation to move. This is all too much. I can’t take it. I can’t handle it. So many words I’m not used to, all the curtsying is killing my knees, the walking hurts my feet, and my shoes have no support, and the dress— though beautiful — is hardly warm. The spring air still holds chills of winter and every room is drafty.

The sound of my door opening awakens me immediately. “Your Highness, it’s time to dress for the ball.” Edda touches my shoulder. I look up at her, not wanting to move. She offers a smile and begins going through the wardrobe again. I don’t move a muscle. I don’t want to go and I definitely don’t want to put on another dress. I’m ready for a pair of pants and a T-shirt.

“Can’t I wear this dress?” I moan, wanting to turn back over and sleep.

“I’m afraid it would be found rather curious and quite scandalous for the princess to appear at her own ball in a common gown,” she states. I laugh.

“Does it really matter? I mean, if it’s my ball, I should be able to wear what I want. Right?” I question, now looking at her. That’s when I notice the room is a little brighter. I throw the covers back and stand, marveling at the change.

I look at the curtains. The velvet drapes are gone, now replaced with billowing satin. They allow more light in. The chair has been replaced with one made of wood—no velvet in sight.

And the blankets on my bed are white and fluffy. “You did all this while I was gone?” I look around, impressed by how quickly all the velvet was removed from my room. I pass Edda and open the wardrobe. Every velvet dress has been taken out.

I spin and throw my arms around her. “Thank you!” She looks quite shocked as I step back.

“You’re welcome, Your Highness.” She curtsies again.

“Edda, are you not my maid for the remainder of my stay?” I question, walking around her.

“I am, Your Highness,” she says, still waiting for me to change dresses.

“Then I suggest you get used to the way I like things. First of all, no more ‘Your Highness’ crap. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, and honestly, I don’t like it. In fact, I hate it. So we should make it easier on both of us and just stop it. Second, you don’t have to curtsy every single time you see me. In fact, when it’s just you and me, let’s just not do that. Does that work for you?”

“Your Highness, it is my job to treat you as the royal being you are. You are above in me in every way, and if anyone ever saw me treat you as if we were equals and did not know it was at your request, I could be killed.” She curtsies again.

Her words shock me. “I may be royal because of my bloodline but that does not mean I am above you. And I don’t want you to think that I am. You are a strong woman who has her own opinions. All I ask is that despite our different positions, we be friends.” With that, I slip out of my current dress and allow her to help me into the other one.

“If that is your wish, it is one I promise can be granted. You are the first royal to ever treat me as her equal. And you are right, I do have my own opinions. I, however, cannot share them with anyone.”

“Share them with me.” I smile, glad she’s opening up to the changes that come with me.

“I have thought for a long time that the velvet should go. It brings so much darkness. This morning when you asked that it be taken out, I could have laughed with joy.” She giggles.

“Thank goodness. I was so worried it couldn’t be done. And now I have a confession to make.” I hate changing topics, but as she laces up this dress, with an even larger skirt—though shorter sleeves—I realize I am in serious trouble.

“Of course.”

“I don’t know how to dance.” I love the way the silk feels against my skin. This is most definitely a dancing dress.

“Well, then, I suppose it’s very well I have you dressed early.” She winks and spins me around.

Valentino is leaning against the wall beside my bed, a smile plastered on his face. “May I have this dance?” He holds out a hand.

I gladly take it, almost run to it. “You may,” I whisper.

“Come with me. I’ve found the perfect room to practice in. One where no one will see you falling all over yourself.” He laughs. I hear Edda laughing as well but I can’t say a thing. I am too. After leaving me, pretending we’re no more than royal acquaintances, I want to be mad at him. But it’s a hard thing to be when he’s standing here with me, hand in hand, smiling and laughing as if nothing changed when we left the home I’ve always known.

He leads me to what looks like a miniature ballroom. The floor is open, with not a piece of furniture in sight. Valentino takes my waist with one hand and one of my hands with the other. I put my other hand on his shoulder and let him guide me around the room.

He starts small, showing me the simple four-step. It’s like any other waltz. Then he spins me under his arm and back again. He throws me out and rolls me back in until I’ve got both hands on his neck, both his hands on my waist, and there’s very little dancing at all.

We just stand there, staring at each other, waiting for the other to move. But alas, then he smiles, and continues spinning us both around the room.

“Your Highness.” Javiar enters the room, looking at me, avoiding Valentino’s glare. We immediately stop dancing. Valentino lets go of my hand and takes a step back.

“The king and queen have requested your presence.” He bows before me. I nod, throwing in a curtsy for good measure. He offers his arm to escort me but I shake my head.

“I already have a companion for this evening.” I look to Valentino, hoping he doesn’t abandon me tonight.

“As you wish.” Javiar bows again and leaves, not looking happy in the least.

I look up at Valentino, who’s still glaring at the spot Javiar just left. I touch his arm, jolting him from his thoughts. “Why do you two fight so much? What is his story?”

He takes my hand in his and kisses my fingers. “Later, Princess. You’re needed for the festivities to begin.” He takes my captured hand and puts it around his arm. I smile and allow him to lead me to the banquet hall.

Long tables make a semi-rectangle around the room. It appears that everyone who attended my welcoming home is here now, and more. Valentino leads me behind the tables and around to the head of the room, where the king and queen sit beside their advisors. With two available seats, one beside the queen and one beside that, I’m grateful Valentino came with me. I take my seat, and without hesitation, he sits beside me.

I breathe, not realizing I was holding my breath at all. The tables are filled with food. So much, in fact, that there’s hardly room for our plates of shiny gold and matching utensils. Goblets with red jewels in them sit before the queen and king. Mine is gold with green jewels. I don’t know why they are different but I’m curious.

I turn to Valentino to ask why but he holds a finger to my lips for a millisecond and shakes his head. I look around the room. No one is talking, no one is eating. So I sit back and remain silent.

A serving girl approaches the king and dishes food onto his plate. She steps back once finished and waits before him. He grunts before removing his black gloves and picking up a piece of what I sincerely hope is chicken. He bites into it and chews for what feels like ten whole minutes.

Once he’s swallowed, he picks up his glass and takes one long gulp before slamming it back onto the table. “All is well!” he shouts, and the silence is broken. People begin talking, food is consumed. As I watch these people eat, I wonder why we have utensils at all. They pick up their food and eat with their fingers, shoving food in their mouths. The sickening part is how much food falls back out.

Watching those around me, I can hardly bring myself to touch the food. I look over and see Valentino eating like a total gentlemen. My mother is also using her utensils. Feeling a little less awkward, I pick mine up and begin eating the food in front of me.

It’s all savory, filled with spices I’m sure don’t exist back home, and everything is a bite of heaven. I’m also pretty sure I was making noises and faces of appreciate because Valentino starts laughing at me.

Music begins playing, and from a door I did not see before comes a group of people dressed in bright costumes. Three of them are all smiles and laughs as they begin juggling, passing items back and forth. Another displays a sword before swallowing it.

I’m entertained. But it’s the lone man furthest away from me who has my attention. He begins spinning what look like chains of some sort. In one movement, they start on fire.

The man spins them in circles, over his head, as if he’s having a dance with the fire he’s controlling. It’s enchanting. I can hardly take my eyes off him.

The longer they entertain, the more exciting the music gets until finally, tables are being pushed to the walls as people join them, dancing around them. What Valentino taught me? Not even close to what these people are doing.

Line dances, dances where you change partners. I’m entranced, watching them move in perfect sync with each other. “Do you want to join them?” Valentino whispers in my ear.

“No, I would only mess up their flow. It’s enthralling to watch but I could never keep up.” I lean closer to speak never taking my eyes away from the dancing.

“Please?” he asks, and it’s heart-melting. One word and he has me won over.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.” I smile. He is ever the gentlemen and pulls my chair back before guiding me to the dance floor. As we approach, cheers are thrown that I am joining in the festivities. I look back, and even the king and queen appear happy I am no longer just sitting at the table.

Everyone lines up again and starts back into their dance as if it were never disrupted. But it feels like they’re going slower than it appeared from the table, which makes me wonder if they’re testing my ability to keep up.

Determined to prove I can do this, I join in full swing, not caring when I slip up. Because my partner changes every three steps, I only get to dance with Valentino once I’ve gone the whole round. I spin and fall into the arms of the next gentlemen.

I wasn’t expecting Javiar. “You are stunning,” he whispers, keeping perfect time with the dance.

“Thank you.” I’m tense. I’m not sure why but he sets me on edge. Before more can be said I’m passed onto the next man. The dance continues on, going full circle. I land in Valentino’s arms again just as the song ends and the music slows down a bit.

“Might I steal her away for a moment?” Javiar asks, startling me as I didn’t see him approach. Valentino doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me to see who I’m going to choose.

“I’ll be right back.” I run my hand down Valentino’s arm before letting Javiar sweep me away into another dance.

“I hope I am not too forward in saying that I believe you are the most beautiful woman here. And deserve far better company than that of the stuffy prince.” He motions toward Valentino. I bite back any defense and instead ask him a question.

“Why don’t you two get along?”

“Because he hurts you. And I hate him for it.”

“Why do you think he hurts me? And why would it make a difference to you at all?” My tone is sharper than I meant it to be.

“He pretends to be like you, from your world, so you don’t feel lonely in this one when it’s just the two of you. But the moment he thinks someone is watching, he turns into the stiff, snot-nosed prince that he is. He’s a spoiled brat and always has been.” His words are clipped, angry.

“If that is even true, again, why does it matter to you?” I say, softer this time.

“Why
wouldn’t
it matter to me? You don’t want to be treated like a princess. He should respect that and treat you how you wish to be treated. But the rules mean more to him than anything. He has to keep his perfect princely image. It is what matters most to him. The real question is, why can’t you see that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. That isn’t the Valentino I know at all.”

“There’s your problem, Princess. You’re so infatuated, you can’t see his faults. Best to keep your eyes open around him,” He says before being swept up in the dance. Valentino surprises me by cutting in line and becoming my next partner.

“Please tell me he was a gentleman.” He stands a little closer than needed for the dance but I don’t mind. In fact, I prefer it. I just nod, not wanting to repeat the entire conversation. It doesn’t matter what Javiar says—Valentino isn’t like that.

And there is more to Javiar than meets the eye. He has secrets, something clawing at him from the inside turning him bitter. Whatever is hurting him affects the way he treats those around him. All those except for one—me. He treats me the way I want to be treated, like a regular person and not royalty.