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“Prince Oliver!” a child screamed.
Spotting Enzo, Renzo, and Aunt Honey coming our way, I urgently called out to them, “Follow us! We need to get out of here!”
We ran past the spinning teacup ride, the chaos of the pursuing crowd amplifying with each step.
Oliver looked at me with a sheepish grin as we ran alongside each other. “That certainly escalated quickly.”
I laughed. “What a royal mess you’ve gotten us into!”
Breathless and frantic, we followed Mr. Stoic into an eatery, through the kitchen, and out the back door, stopping next to a trash dumpster.
I bent over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. “Okay, that’s my exercise for the week.” I stood back up and froze as Aunt Honey, Enzo, and Renzo’s gazes were darting back and forth between me and Oliver.
Aunt Honey shot me a smirk. “What exactly happened to you two?” Before I could answer, she waved it off. “Never mind. I think I’ve got a good idea.”
“It’s not what you think!” I said in a pleading manner.
She crossed her arms. “When do you think I was born, sugar? It’s exactly what I think.”
Oliver looked genuinely confused and asked, “Why is everyone staring at me like I’m a guilty accomplice in a heist?”
“You’ve got Grace on your face,” Renzo said.
Despite the embarrassment, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Oliver blinked, then said, “You mean a little paint?” He touched his face, then glanced at his fingers that now had paint on them.
I winced. “I’d say it’s more than just a little.”
Oliver winked. “It was worth it.”
Aunt Honey pulled out a makeup wipe from her purse and handed it to Oliver. “Here—use this, darlin’. Works like a charm. It has aloe vera.”
“Thank you,” Oliver said, attempting to clean up his face, but failing miserably.
I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him. “Maybe you should let a professional handle this.” I grabbed the wipe, first focusing on the area around his lips. The very lips that had moments ago left me breathless.
“I just can’t get that kiss off my mind,” I said. “I want an encore.”
Whoops.
I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.
Oliver’s eyebrows shot up.
An awkward silence descended on us, and Enzo and Renzo stared at us like characters from a cartoon, eyes wide and mouths agape.
Aunt Honey beamed with satisfaction. “I knew it.”
Heat rose to my cheeks as I quickly handed the wipe back to Oliver, trying to regain my composure. “Maybe it’s best if you finish up on your own.”
“You may be right,” Oliver said, pulling out his phone and turning the camera to selfie mode to see himself while he cleaned up.
“I am confused, Cousin Oliver,” Renzo said. “Are you still getting married to Princess Veronica?”
That question certainly got my attention.
Oliver sighed, his face reflecting the weight of the situation. “Technically, the wedding is still in the works, but do I want it? Does Veronica want it?” He shook his head, expressing doubt. “Honestly, no. Neither of us does. The issue is that both our countries would benefit significantly from our union. Veronica’s country supplies over seventy percent of vital grains to Verdana. Canceling the wedding would practically shout to the citizens that we’re selfish and don't care about them.”
