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“Come with me, Hailey.”
I look over at my fiancé, who grins that charming grin that made me fall for him in a dozen photographs before we met.
And how could I say no to that face?
There’s only one other person whose opinion matters right now.
“I need to call my mama.”
24
Torben
Home.
Back to everything I know, but without a proper plan.
Chaos awaits us as the private jet taxis toward the main hangar. We landed before dawn at the private airstrip with little fuss, only to find a crowd so large that it may be visible from space.
Hailey texted and phoned family, friends, coworkers, and her boss until her phone died, and she finally passed out, her head lolling against my shoulder. She left everything behind for me.
I was ready to hear her say she couldn’t leave her mother behind, but it was her mother who finally convinced her to go.
“It’s your time, baby girl,” Susan had said. “I risked far less marrying your daddy, and that didn’t turn out the way I expected. But I don’t regret loving him because he gave me my children.”
A little piece of my heart broke for her, and I felt humbled that Hailey’s mother would trust me with her daughter.
Because she’s ultra-responsible, Hailey spent much time on the plane talking with her bosses. A great deal of time to me, perhaps, who never experienced a real job with an actual paycheck.
Hailey’s superiors at the highway department were relieved she was finally going to be using up all of her accrued vacation days and promised she could have her job back if things don’t work out “with that fancy English fella,” and Hailey had to correct them on who I was.
At the moment, Hailey sits forward in her seat, gazing out the plane’s window at the waving crowds and photographers, barely being held back by the royal guards. “Is that all for us? Oh my god. I look like hell, Torben!”
“How dare you say that about my fiancée!”
She shoots me a look. “You know what I mean. Frick and Frack grabbed us right after we came from Mama’s house. As you recall, we showered, and you put on Daddy’s borrowed clothes. I didn’t have time to pack anything but the overnight bag I took to the hotel. You,” she says, gesturing toward my simple jeans and hoodie. “You look amazing because of some ancient royal magic or whatever. But I look like a deep-fried hick, not in a country-chic way. I can’t go out there to meet the people of Gravenland looking like this!”
I lean past her to count precisely how many people we’re dealing with. I’m used to looking average in front of a crowd. We’re not a judgmental sort of people. But I understand why she’s nervous. As I’m about to reassure her, I see the royal motorcade drive to the opposite end of the tarmac.
“You’ll be meeting my parents sooner than expected,” I say.
She sits up straight, following my pointer finger. “What? What’s that?”
The plane slows and comes to a halt while we watch the police cars park in formation around the royal limousine. A royal footman exits the passenger side and opens the back doors of a black Bentley, lending a hand to help my mother exit the vehicle, followed by my father, the king.
“Oh…no,” Hailey breathes. “No, no, no, no. This is not happening. I smell like hushpuppies! Turn this plane around right now and take me to a shopping mall.”
I have a better idea.
I turn on my phone for the first time since I fled the country, and it explodes with at least fifteen text messages from my sister Flora, one from Sig, and seven from the queen’s assistant.
I ignore them all and text my sister.
Me: Small favor?
Flora: Are you serious? After your disappearing act?
Me: I’m sorry I made you worry, and we’ll sort through all of that later, but this is a fashion emergency, and I need your help.
