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Joseph let out an exaggerated groan and slumped back in his seat. Catriona crossed her arms over her chest and shot daggers at Joseph.
“You have the manners of a commoner, Joseph, and I won’t stand for it.”
As if to prove his mother's point, Joseph began to laugh, taunting her in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the formal dining room.
“I’d rather be a commoner. Why, I’m a like prisoner in this house! I'm allowed to act like a child if I’d like—what about my princely privilege? What are the benefits to being a prince if I can’t do what I like, when I like, wherever I like?”
He said this bombastically, in an exaggerated way that let people know he was joking—but his brother was in no mood for a joke.
For the first time all evening, Alex made a noise, slamming his fist down on the table and causing the china to clatter, making his whole family jump in their seats.
“YOU'RE a prisoner? You are? Paris, the woman I love, the woman I essentially kidnapped, is being held hostage somewhere in a CASTLE like a damn fairy tale princess, all because I was born into a marriage I never agreed to! Paris is the victim here. Paris is the one who has been dragged into this against her will. And you're whining because your dinner is late? Grow UP, Joseph!”
The silence in the dining room was palpable and only amplified when Mathias looked up from the table and blurted out, “Who is that?”
Celia was hovering in the doorway of the dining room, with Paris standing awkwardly next to her. Celia had loaned Paris some clothes, and she was currently wearing one of her dresses: a long, flowy pale pink strapless with little grey flowers scattered throughout. Her long, curly hair had been swept back into a loose bun, and Cat had given Paris one of her favorite necklaces, a sparkling pink diamond set inside a little heart. Every eye in the room was on Paris, but the only eyes she was even aware of were Alex's.
“Paris... how did you... when did... you look beautiful.”
Cat tried to hide her smile behind her hand, but she wasn't doing a great job. She'd never heard her son stammer like that in his whole life, not even when he was a child. She watched with fascination as the energy almost crackled between the two of them. If she wasn't sure before, she knew it now... Alex was in love with this girl.
As the room went quiet again, the King got fed up with all the awkwardness. He might have been considering throwing away decades of diplomacy over his son's love life, but one thing he wouldn't abide was an uncomfortable dinner.
“Well, what's all this standing about? Miss... Paris, is it? Please, have a seat. Celia, go inform Benson that we are ready to eat. Alexander... sit down and stop staring at the poor girl like she's an exhibition at the museum. Now. Paris, tell me. What brought you all the way to this side of the world from the States?”
* * *
After the dinner had been eaten and the dishes cleared, after polite conversation had waned and the coffee had been topped off, Cat gently kicked her husband under the table to signal it was time for everyone to go their separate ways. He flinched and groaned audibly, drawing every eye in the room to his corner of the table.
As he scowled at his wife, he grumbled, “Well, I'm feeling the need to exercise my brain. Joseph, Mathias, what do you say? Round robin chess tournament?”
The boys grinned at each other, more than aware that their parents were trying to break up the group so Paris and Alex could be alone, just for a little while.
Cat stood up first, brushing the wrinkles from her white silk pants. “I have some calls to make, and I've put them off far too long. Alex, why don't you take Paris for a walk around the grounds? But for the sake of my and Celia's sanity, could you stick to the areas behind the house? Just in case any of those basta... I mean, photographers, have managed to sneak onto the property.”
Paris managed a shy smile and Alex nodded enthusiastically, thrilled that his parents had changed their minds about letting them be alone. As everyone made their way to the door, the King's arms around his youngest sons, just like when they were boys, Cat and Celia already chattering with one another about the plans they had to make, Paris couldn't help but feel that same longing she felt when she saw happy families in restaurants. Or mothers and fathers in airports waiting excitedly for their kids to walk off a plane. It was the feeling that she may never be a part of a whole, functional family, not in the way she wanted to be.
She felt herself drifting into her sadness when suddenly, Alex's hand slipped gently around her own. Even as her anger resurfaced she couldn't help but feel the same butterflies she'd felt that first night when Alex had come to her rescue in the alley in Paris.
“Care to take a walk, Paris?”
* * *
The light of a blinding white full moon was already reflecting off the water when Paris and Alex got outside of the castle. Once they were a few hundred steps away, Paris allowed herself to turn around and take in the palatial estate in the starlight; it was even more stunning at night. The song of nightbirds echoed across the lake, causing Paris' heart to swell with emotion.
“I can't believe you grew up here,” she whispered.
Alex scuffed lightly at the grass, and took in a deep breath of the night air.
“I did and I didn't. I spent a lot of time at boarding school when I was a kid. Equestrian training. That didn't take. And then, a form of what you Americans have—ROTC, to prepare for my time in the Navy when I got out of school. But I was here during the summer, and on holidays. It was nice. I lucked out with my family... I know that. Many royals have no relationship with their family at all. Our parents love us, and each other. Everything else is just... filler.”
Paris turned from the castle and looked at Alex. Even in the darkness of the night, she could see the brightness of his eyes behind his glasses. He was so tall and strong, his face so honest and kind.
Her voice trembled slightly. “I hate you, you know. Just a little. You made me seem like an idiot.” The sound was a whisper but it seemed to echo over the lake and reverberate off the peaks of the mountains. The moon highlighted the tears streaming down her face.
He watched her steadily, aware of the pain he’d caused her—never having wanted her to find out this way. His heart clenched, aware that he was on the verge of losing her forever. He would do everything in his power to prevent that from happening. Alex took one step toward her and held out his hand.
“Paris—I love you.”
Even though she wanted to hang on to her anger just a little longer, she knew it wasn't possible.
Paris brushed a tear away from her cheek and ran toward Alex, into his waiting arms. Their lips met in a searing kiss as he just held her close and relished the feel of her body against his own.
He didn't know what he could say to make everything better, so he just kept whispering into her ear, “It's going to be okay, my love. I don’t know
how, but it's going to be okay.”
22
Hurricane Whitney had been blowing through the Royal palace in Estia ever since she arrived. Leonard had been calling King Alexander's phone all morning but getting no response, which was aggravating him beyond all belief, and driving him to drink earlier than usual. Most of the servants were used to Whitney's screaming, she'd been shouting like a madwoman since she was a child, but today, her anger was palpable and contagious. Everyone in the palace was in a terrible mood.
Rather than the usual tinkling ice cubes in a pitcher full of Bloody Mary's, the dining room was reverberating with the sound of plates and glasses crashing against the wall again. Leonard was guzzling the crimson liquor straight from the pitcher while Penelope held an ice bag against her head.
Once Whitney finally stopped screeching in gibberish, Leonard groaned in an exhausted voice, “What would you like us to do about it, my angel? Alexander isn't taking my calls, none of my contacts know anything. So, I'm open to any suggestions you have.”
Whitney threw a croissant at her father's head, which he didn't even bother to try and deflect.
“I want the plane. And I want it to take me to Dalvana. Right now.”
Penelope pulled the ice bag away from her head and looked at her husband with a terrified and panicked stare. Leonard knew the last thing he should do was allow his daughter to fly to Dalvana and cause further damage to Estia's already tenuous relationship with the country. But telling Whitney “no” wasn't an option in the best of circumstances. He let out a massive sigh and swallowed the rest of his Bloody Mary in one gulp.
