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The woman did not look comforted.
Now would not be a good time to be tackled by an air marshal, Paris! She chided herself.
Paris in Paris. It was a life-long dream.
As a kid, she used to travel all over the United States with her mom, so generally, travel was second-nature. Her mom was a nightclub singer, sometimes getting a headline gig, but mostly a few opening acts, and she made her living driving from state to state, chasing the next job, and hauling her three kids along with her. But not once in her whole life had anyone in her family ever travelled outside of the US, let alone left the continent.
As a kid, every time she had to start at a new school (17 schools in 12 years, by her last count) she always hung her head whenever she had to be introduced to the class.
“Paris! What an unusual name!” The new teacher would inevitably exclaim. “Were your parents fans of Greek mythology?”
By fifth grade Paris had learned to answer “yes” to that question. It was better than telling everyone that her mom had thought it cute to name her kids after the town they’d been conceived in.
Worst of all, thought Paris, I wasn’t even conceived in Paris, France—I was conceived in Paris, Texas. Still, it could have been worse, she supposed. She could have been conceived in Milwaukee or Albuquerque. Her sister, Atlanta, and brother, Orlando, had gotten off relatively easy too. Thank goodness her mom had stopped there.
Though after all the teasing she’d had as a kid about being conceived in the “City of Lights,” Paris—the city—had taken on almost mythical proportions. She had sworn that someday—someday—she’d get there.
And now? Someday was here.
As a first year medical student, and the first person in her family to go to college, Paris had been elated when she’d been chosen—out of all 200 students in her cohort—to attend the prestigious Salon de la Formation Médicale conference in Paris, France.
Sure, she'd have to attend a few lectures, but she'd actually get to sight-see the rest of the time! Once she finished medical school and started her residency, she knew that chances to travel would be few and far between.
Paris didn't know any of the other students that been chosen to come on this trip, but that didn't really matter. All she was interested in was checking out the city, practicing her rusty French, and maybe learning a little bit about the history of European medicine while she was in Paris. Realistically, she knew that this trip was going to be a whirlwind mostly focused on classes, but there was always the chance that she would get to climb up the Eiffel Tower, or perhaps even wander the Louvre for a few hours after a glass of wine at a cafe.
Ah, daydreams. Paris opened her eyes as the plane landed with a jolt, shaking her out of her reverie. She muttered a little prayer to thank God for the safe landing, finally loosening her grip on the arm rests.
Struggling with her oversize suitcase, Paris had barely even made it off the plane before she was being jostled in the massive crowds at France’s busiest airport. The student group she was with was nice enough to make sure she didn't get lost initially, but there was nothing romantic about the City of Lights when you are being herded like cattle onto a smelly bus bound for a discount motel in a very questionable corner of the city. Some of the sights from her tour book flew by her via the tiny window in the back of the bus, but she didn't have time to register anything, as she was mostly too busy trying to not throw up from nervousness and motion-sickness.
What were obviously the posh areas of Paris quickly disappeared, leading to a far more seedy side of the city that Paris could have lived her entire life without seeing. However, she reminded herself, free was free, and as long as she could keep herself from puking all over the nice blonde girl sitting next to her, she was determined to have the time of her life.
If she ever got off the damn bus, that was…
Thomas, Alexander’s bodyguard, spoke quietly into the microphone hidden within the sleeve of his coat. Alexander had been through this routine a thousand times: his people had already cleared out this entire wing of the Louvre just so he could spend some time amongst the paintings without being assassinated by a rogue killer who happened to be waiting there for the Crown Prince of Dalvana to stop by.
But now, they were sweeping the museum a second time, just to be sure no one had snuck by any of the fifty men surrounding the outside of the buildings. It was tedious.
All he really wanted to do was see Mantegna's Madonna della Vittoria in person, and perhaps be left alone to stare at it for a while. His father liked to tell him that his Great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother had been the one to pose for it, but Alexander had never been quite certain if his father hadn’t just been telling an impressionable boy a tall tale. However, it was certain that several other Lennox relatives had their portraits in various Louvre galleries, and he w
as always fond of trying to find a family resemblance in the point of a chin or the curve of an ear.
But Thomas, his chief bodyguard since he was a teenager, was already encouraging him to hurry. “You have a meeting with the Royal Society for the Prevention of Orphans in two hours, a dinner date with King Leonard and Queen Penelope of Estia at 8pm, and after-dinner cocktails with Whitney at 10pm. Your father specifically stated that you are not to be late for any of them.”
Ah, poor diligent, dutiful Thomas. Little did he know that Alexander had no intention of being at any of those meetings, especially not dinner with Whitney's parents or drinks with her afterward. He knew the only topic of conversation would be why he was still stalling on setting a definite date for the wedding.
No, Alexander had already formulated alternate plans for his night in Paris. But Thomas didn’t need to know that…
Alexander had been slipping his security detail since he was eight-years-old, having always been a big fan of privacy, but destined to live his life rarely being given any.
The first time he ran away from his guards, the entire Lennox family had been on a photo-op trip to the zoo in Dalvana's capital city of Kara's Vale. His youngest brother Mathias had just been born and all he did was scream like a banshee. Joseph, who was four, never stopped stealing things, breaking things, or stealing and then breaking things. Neither of his brothers had changed much over the years.
Alexander had always been expected to be the son who posed for the cameras. He was always the one who was required to be well-mannered and behave like a proper young gentlemen, even when he was a small child. That day at the zoo, though, he’d had enough of all of it!
He had whispered to one of the bodyguards that he thought he'd seen a sneaky man with a camera hiding in the bushes, and as soon as the guards had descended on the foliage a few yards away, Alexander had taken his chance and made his escape.
Chaos ensued when his father, King Alexander, finally realized that he was gone. When Alexander was at last located forty-five minutes later, he was sitting quietly by the edge of the duck pond, chatting happily with a gardener.
Stealing away for a bit of solitude had become one of Alexander's favorite hobbies. Recently, it had become even more important to his mental health with all of the wedding nonsense weighing on his mind. Whitney wouldn't leave him alone about every pointless detail, and it was beginning to get to the point where he even resented the sound of his phone ringing.
