Royal Date (19 page)

“Have fun,” Lemon whispered to me as I readjusted my backpack straps. I started to suspect that this had all been a scam on her part to get me alone with Nico, because she looked just fine walking back to the car.

I mean, I wanted to be alone with him. I just didn’t want to be conned into it.

“We’re nearly there,” Nico told me as he helped me climb up and over a big rock. “I used to have a much more direct route, but I promised my mother not to use it.”

“Why?”

He didn’t let go of my hand once I’d cleared the obstacle. Even through our gloves I could feel the heat of his hand.

“You met my father?”

“I did.”

“He was in a boating accident a few years ago. My mother is terrified the same thing will happen to all of us. So she asked us to stop doing anything that had any risk involved. Rock climbing was my favorite hobby. I used to climb up that face there to get to the top—you can still see some of the cams in the rock. But a promise is a promise. I gave away all my gear.” I could hear in his voice how much he missed it, and the whole thing struck me as unbelievably sad.

“You always do what you say, don’t you?”

He gave me a little frown, like I’d confused him. “Of course.”

I could rely on him. He wouldn’t let me down. He wasn’t like other men. I saw that when I looked at him, when I stood with him like this. There was something that felt like security. Strength. Confidence. He was safe. I felt safe.

I liked that more than I should. A heavy, warm glow started up in my heart and spread throughout my limbs.

We finally reached the top of the hill, and he walked me over to the edge. There was a rock carved into the shape of a bench. It overlooked the entire capital city of Imperia. I could see the castle in the distance, perched up on its own hill. Snow blanketed the valley floor, twinkling and sparkling in the afternoon sun. Forests of bright green pine trees filled the landscape. Behind us, I could hear a waterfall falling, crashing into rocks below.

“Everything here is like living in a postcard.”

We stood in silence at the edge of the world, holding hands. The moment felt so romantic. “This is like, the perfect spot for a proposal. You should bring your future princess here.”

While I wanted to smack myself around for the verbal stupidness spewing from my mouth, I was stopped by Nico’s expression. “I have no intention of getting married.”

“Ever?” It surprised me how important his answer to that question was.

He shrugged. “When I marry, my father plans to abdicate and make me king. I want to delay that as long as is humanly possible.”

I didn’t understand why it felt like a thousand tiny daggers were stabbing me in the heart over and over again. I went over to the stone bench, cleared a spot off, and sat down. I felt heavy and uneasy.

There was no future here. Not that in a million years I ever thought it really possible that I’d end up married to Nico, but there had at least been a possibility of it. A chance, however small, at a future. And now he was telling me that there never would be one. My throat felt thick.

Which shouldn’t upset me.
Light and breezy, remember?
But it felt like something had just died.

I cleared my throat. “I can understand that. It seems like you have a pretty sweet single life. Traveling the world, doing whatever you want, going to parties and balls.”

He sat down next to me and took my hand again. “That’s not what a king does. My father still takes care of as many administrative things as he can, and I do the rest. I had scheduled much of the next two weeks as a holiday, but even then you can see that I am still constantly busy. It is fortunate that you came into my life when I could spend time with you.”

“You only like me because I didn’t want to go out with you.” I was feeling contrary. Like I wanted to pick a fight.

He pinned me down with his intense gaze. “That’s why I was intrigued by you. But that is not why I like you. And you know it.”

I did know it. He’d spelled it out pretty clearly in Paris. I was just being obstinate. I let out a loud, annoyed sigh.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas festivities?” he asked. He was always good at the changing the subject tactic if things started to go wonky between us. I decided to allow it because I had no real reason to be upset.

“I’ve never really liked Christmas. My mother was either gone or passed out.”

“You’ve never had even one happy Christmas?”

I paused, remembering. “I did have one. Sort of. I was nine years old. My dad had just gotten out of prison, finally sober, and he took me to his parents’ house for the holiday. It was the first and only time I remember meeting my grandparents. I don’t think they liked me too much. Anyway, my dad had just started a new job, and he bought me a present. A Holiday Barbie. She was so beautiful—she had a blue velvet dress with silver lace all over it. She was the Millennium Princess. She was the prettiest thing I had ever owned. I didn’t even want to take her out of the box. I was happy to just sit and look at her. It reminded me that someone loved me.”

Nico squeezed my hand. “And then one day I came home from school and my mom had pawned it. I cried for days. A few weeks later, ironically enough, my dad got hit by a drunk driver and died. So, no, not a lot of happy Christmas memories.”

He wrapped both of his arms around me then, putting his cheek on top of my head. “I am so sorry,
cuore mio
.”

I nestled into him and took all the comfort he wanted to offer me. Even if we didn’t have a future, and this couldn’t go anywhere, I decided to take what I could while I could.

“Now I feel guilty that my memories are all full of family, love, and laughter. I wish I could share those feelings with you so that you would know what it was like.”

“Me too.”

“I will just have to show you over the next few days. Starting right now.” He stood up, brushing snow off his pants. I got that dizzy, sweet feeling when he pulled me up and then in close to him so that we were pressed together. He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Will you let me show you what it’s like to enjoy Christmas?”

I was starting to feel a bit like a light bulb with my moods—on again, off again. I had been upset about the no future thing, but now I felt myself responding to him and wanting to keep that smile on his face.

“Okay.”

As he led me down the hill I realized something significant. I wanted more. I wanted things to progress.

Even if we weren’t going to be in a relationship, I was going to kiss him again.

And soon.

Lemon tried asking me what was wrong, but I brushed her off instead of confiding in her. I didn’t want to talk about it. I already knew how stupid it was to be upset about something that would have absolutely no effect on me and my future at all. Nico’s choice to not marry had nothing to do with me, right?

Right?

Giacomo told me that we would be having a special Christmas Eve feast where seven different types of fish would be the main course. It was supposed to be like a fasting or purifying meal before a holy day, but he said over time people had lost that religious part of it, but still kept the tradition.

Lemon had left his gift on my bed, and I handed it to him. I didn’t know if he’d have the next day off, so I wanted to make sure he got it. “For you, from me and Lemon. Merry Christmas.”

He held the thin box in his hand and blinked several times. “For me?”

“Yeah. Open it.”

He paused again and then finally tugged at the ribbon surrounding the box. He very delicately lifted the tape up, opening it up perfectly without a single rip in the wrapping paper. He lifted the lid and pulled out the tie, holding it up.

“Thank you very much, Signorina Kat.”

“You’re welcome.”

He put the tie back in the box and closed it. He cleared his throat before he spoke again. “You will be expected to wear a cocktail dress. The black or the blue in your closet will suffice. Enjoy your evening.”

All stiffness and formality on his way out the door. “Merry Christmas, Giacomo!”

He stuck in his head back in the door and with a slight smile said, “
Buon Natale
, Signorina Kat.”

I decided on the blue dress, leaving my hair down and a little bit of makeup. Nico could make fun of me if he wanted to.

But he didn’t. When Lemon and I entered the formal dining hall, Nico headed straight for me, looking amazing in a black-tie tuxedo. “Stunning,” was all he said before he kissed both of my cheeks.

He offered his arms to Lemon and me, but before she could accept, Dante had whisked her away.

Nico pulled me closer than was necessary and nuzzled my cheek with his nose. Conscious of his family all around us, I stepped back. But not too far.

Queen Aria was seated in her chair by Rafe, which signaled that the rest of us could also sit. Nico helped me into my chair and then helped Serafina, who kept insisting, “I can do it myself! I don’t need your help!”

I remembered back to when I wouldn’t let Nico open my car door. And realized that I’d had the emotional response of a seven-year-old girl.

The queen had raised her hand to signal for the first course when the dining hall doors opened. Everyone looked toward the doors, curious. And then everyone was on their feet.

It was King Dominic.

Another seat and place setting were added to the table next to Chiara, as the king rolled his way over to his wife. She had tears streaming down her face as he took her former position at the table. She leaned over to kiss her husband. I looked away, feeling that I was intruding on something very personal.

Chiara was also openly weeping, and Serafina was jumping up and down. “Papa’s here! Papa’s here!”

“Why is everyone staring? Shouldn’t we eat?” the king asked, and the servants brought out the first course. The king looked over at me and nodded. I smiled back uneasily. What the frak had that been about? Why did he single me out? Had something I said in his room affected him?

Nico reached for my hand under the table and didn’t let go. I had to eat everything left-handed, which took forever.

But it was totally worth it.

During the dinner, the queen read letters from the children expressing their love for their parents. Nico’s made me teary-eyed and emotional. I didn’t know why, exactly. He explained that it was a tradition for children to write letters to their parents and read them on Christmas Eve. I thought it was beautiful.

After dinner we headed to the family’s private drawing room, and in the fireplace, we lit the biggest log I’d ever seen. “
Festa di Ceppo
,” Nico whispered in my ear. “We’re burning the Yule log to celebrate life and hopes for a prosperous new year. They will keep it burning until New Year’s Day.”

Then it was to the front door where a horde of servants waited with our boots, coats, gloves, hats, and scarves. There were cars that would drive us to the city center, and we would walk to the cathedral for Midnight Mass.

The king and queen took a separate vehicle that could transport his wheelchair and take them directly to the church. The rest of us piled into a giant limo. Everybody in the car was excited and talking over each other. Nico was a silent, warm anchor at my side.