Chapter Thirteen

Daniel

The day of the community bash, I stare down at the pot of sauce, bubbling in front of me. There’s twelve others pots waiting to go on the stove. The entire castle kitchen staff idles nearby, waiting for my orders.

Tentatively, I bring the spoon to my lips, take a small taste.

BLAND.

FLAT.

THIN.

There’s just something missing.

I remember when I first started cooking. I was probably around eight or nine when Ma started working late at her job. I wanted to make dinner for her so she had something to eat when she got home. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never get my food to taste like hers.

One night, she came home and saw me in tears on the floor, red sauce around me, as if there’d been a massacre. Actually the scenario was pretty similar to how I’ve been the last few days.

“I just can’t get it right,” I told her. “I’ve put all the same stuff in it that you do, but it doesn’t taste the same.”

Ma just raised a brow and said, “Well, of course it doesn’t. It’s your sauce, not mine.”

“But it’s missing something.” I ran up to her, my wooden spoon dripping red sauce. But she wouldn’t even taste it.

“How can I tell you what it’s missing?” Ma said. “You’re the chef of this dish, not me.”

I throw my spoon to the counter and bury my head in my hands. I try to block out the hushed mutters of the kitchen staff. I’ve changed the recipe fifty times and it still tastes like swill. Serving this slosh would be even more embarrassing than going to the Queen Dowager for help…which I know I’m going to have to do. I’m sure she’s ready to whip out the cucumber sandwiches and tea.

Suddenly, the door bursts open. I would scream if I had any energy left, but I can only blink at the walking mass of streamers, flowers, vases, and candles. Bell comes in a moment later, snatches the arm of the poor person buried beneath all those party supplies, and drags them over to me.

“Sacs. We. Need. Answers!” She grabs a vase from the mass of supplies. I see Tremblay’s head poke out. “What sort of arrangement do you want for the flowers? I was using my own artistic judgement when Eva came in and told me the arrangements looked like they belonged at a toddler’s birthday party! But I can’t ask her what she wants, because she’s dealing with the musicians! It seems the Queen Dowager needed the Royal Orchestra for an emergency tea party, so now Eva’s trying to train the local elementary school choir to sing Miserere mei, Deus!”

I just stare at her. It’s like I’ve entered into some sort of calm, like the warmth old explorers said they felt before they froze to death.

“Sacachelli!” Bell screams.

“Just leave me to die,” I say, looking up at the bright fluorescent lights.

“ARGH!” Bell screams and throws the vase to the floor. “We won’t have to arrange them if they’re broken!”

I don’t understand why they’re all worked up. I’ve admitted defeat. This whole thing is a failure. They just need to accept it.

“Settle down there, feisty pants,” Tremblay says, slowly backing away. “Let’s go find Madison…”

They back out of the kitchen, leaving me to drown in my own sauce.

What was supposed to be a great redemption for Prince Daniel is turning out to be just another reminder of all the reasons I should not be a prince, let alone a king.

I turn to one of the kitchen staff. “If you would be so kind, would you fetch the Queen—”

The double doors to the kitchen burst open and Eldredge stands there, his face flushed. “Prince Daniel,” he gasps, “there is a commotion in the courtyard. You must come right away.”

At least this will delay my inevitable and humiliating defeat to the Queen. “Fine.”

Eldredge leads me through the hall. Eva waits in the grand foyer, the first calm person I’ve seen all day. But she not only looks calm, she’s smiling.

“There’s a little surprise for you outside, Dan-Dan.” She smirks, then snaps her fingers and two members of the staff open the giant mahogany doors.

Outside in the courtyard is total chaos.

But it’s amazing chaos.

I stumble outside, feeling like I’ve entered some alternate reality. Because in the courtyard is my team—the Chicago Falcons.

And they’re…helping.

A booming voice radiates through the court: “PUT THE FLOWER POTS OVER THERE, GERVER! EVANS, SMOOTH THOSE TABLECLOTHS OUT. I DON’T WANT TO SEE A SINGLE WRINKLE! WHAT ARE YOU, A BARBARIAN, STICKLY? THAT’S TWO WHITE ROSES PER POT, NOT FOUR!” Coach Zabinski stands on a chair in the courtyard, blowing that damn whistle of his.

“Well, it looks like someone took care of organizing,” Eldredge trills.

My face grows hot and my eyes start to sting. Never in a million years did I think I would be so happy to hear that blasted whistle.

 Then they spot me. An uproar of “SACS!” fills the air and suddenly, the whole team is running toward me as if I’ve just scored the winning goal of a playoff game. It’s a regular old dog pile as I embrace my teammates.

When they finally pull away, I gasp, “How? Why? What are you guys doing here?!”

“Madison organized it.” Tyler Evans runs a hand through his blond curls. “She basically said you can’t do anything without us.”

Coach Z pushes through them and smacks me on the shoulder. “And Falcons soar…even across the Atlantic, it would seem.”

Then I feel her presence behind me. I turn to see Madison. She looks up at me almost shyly.

“Y-you did this?” I stammer.

“Well, Eva dealt with the whole flying a hockey team to Europe thing.” She plays with a strand of hair and looks down. “But yeah, I called them. Each one. And do you know how hard it is to track down hockey players during their summer break? Christ, Evans, how many jobs do you work?”

I feel something warm bubble up inside me. I reach down and pull Madison against me. Her arms wrap around my neck and I place my mouth on hers. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I murmur against her lips.

She pulls away, smiling. “This isn’t all.” She tilts her head toward the entrance to the courtyard.

My whole body stops working and I just stare. Walking through the giant ironclad gate is a short, skinny woman. Her long brown hair flows in the breeze, and she’s wearing her high-waisted jeans and floral blouse.

“Ma…” I breathe.

In a flash, I sprint across the courtyard. “Ma!” I call. She throws her head back with laughter and starts to run toward me, too. But I’m already there, wrapping my arms around her and spinning her around. I’m so much bigger than her now, but I still feel like a child in her arms.

“Danny!” she says, covering my cheeks with kisses.

I make sure my back is to my team so they don’t see how red my eyes are. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Your friend Madison called me!” Ma says. “She said you’re planning a big spaghetti night for the kingdom.”

Damn. Even Ma knows. Just another person to disappoint. “Yeah, well, that’s off.”

“’Cause you’re having some trouble with your sauce?” Ma shakes her head. “Madison filled me in. She said you needed my help. I can’t tell you what’s missing—”

I place my hands on her shoulders. “I know what you’re going to say, Ma.” I look to my team, the Falcons. Tremblay and Bell have joined them now. Madison and Eva stand beside them. Finally, I look back to Ma.

I think of my sauce, all those pots waiting for me in the kitchen. “But I think I know what it’s missing now.”

…

Madison

Oh my God.

That smell is to DIE for.

Everywhere I look, people carry heaping plates of spaghetti. I worry my lip, studying their faces for any sign of discomfort, nausea, or an impending riot against the new monarchy.

They’re all smiling. Laughing. Dancing to the strum of a guitar that Eldredge plays. Many of them pick up hockey sticks and face off against the Falcons in a game of street hockey.

Somehow, miraculously, it has all come together.

And Daniel stands behind the steaming pot of noodles, serving each person himself. Asking their name, what they do for a living, shaking their hands, introducing them to his mom, who stands beside him with pride.

Perhaps he isn’t so much a king of the people, as a king for the people.

“Are you Madison?” A deep voice drifts above all the others.

I turn to see a tall, burly man with bushy blond sideburns and a thick mustache. Looking up at him is like staring up at a mountain. I don’t think I’ve ever met him before, but he’s somehow familiar…

“Mr. Oak!” I say. The owner of the pub that burned down. “Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m Madison.”

He smiles brightly. “The Prince tells me I have you to thank for all of this.” He gestures around him.

A flush rises to my face and I glance at Daniel. “Oh, Daniel, I mean, the Prince, is just being modest. It really was his idea.”

He places a beefy hand on my shoulder. “However it be, miss, you have my thanks.”

“I just hope we can raise enough money.”

“Any help is appreciated,” he says, eyes shining. “And when I have my pub back, you and the Prince will drink for free every night.”

He laughs, and I do my best to laugh with him. I don’t have the heart to tell Mr. Oak I won’t be in Eldonia for much longer. That Daniel will have to find someone new to drink with.

I stare at Daniel, smiling, laughing with his subjects. For the first time since this whole crazy adventure began, I think we might actually be pulling it off.

And instead of filling me with excitement or pride, my body slowly fills with sadness, as dark and consuming as the night.

The closer I get to achieving my goal, the further away Daniel slips from me. Soon, an entire ocean will stand between us, and any hope I had of making him see me as more than his friend will die completely.

“You did well, Mads,” Alice says, coming up beside me. She wears her bright blue Falcons jersey, and her short hair sticks to her sweaty forehead. “Some of these Eldonian kids are pretty good. We should get them to come to Chicago.”

I smile, but it feels forced. “No, Daniel will need them here.” Each word is heavy. “You know his first act as King will be to start a National Eldonian Hockey League.”

Alice isn’t always the best at picking up feelings but she squeezes an arm around my shoulder. “I know it’s sad that Daniel won’t be coming back to Chicago. But you’ve done good. The people are so excited about him.”

“Yeah,” I say. And despite the colored lanterns, the laughter of children, and the beaming smile on Daniel’s face, I feel cold inside.

“Besides, you have your audition to think of,” Alice croons. “Imagine telling your parents you got a huge gig. Proving to them you can do this.”

My blood quickens. Lies on top of lies on top of more lies. “I don’t think my parents would be very proud of me right now.”

Alice gapes at me. “Are you kidding me? You’ve got an entire kingdom convinced you’re the Prince’s girlfriend. If that’s not Best Actress material, I don’t know what is.”

I want to tell her to stop talking, ask her why she can’t see that all my accomplishments are built on my selfish lies.

I shake my head. I’m not very proud of myself right now, either. And because I was too scared to ask for what I really wanted, I’m going to lose Daniel forever.

“Hey, Bell!” A familiar voice breaks over the crowd. “Tag me in. I’m exhausted!”

Tyler Evans, the third amigo in Daniel and Hayden’s BFF group, runs out of the pick-up hockey game.

Alice takes a deep breath and says to me with a wink, “Duty calls.”

I breathe a sigh of relief as Tyler and Alice swap places. At least Tyler doesn’t know all of my selfish secrets.

“Looks like you’re getting your butt kicked by some kiddos,” I joke to Tyler as he runs over. With his curly blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, I always thought Tyler looked more like the frontman of a British boy band than a hockey player. Actually, Tyler, Daniel, and Hayden would make a great boy band. Tyler the sweet one, Daniel the bad boy, and Hayden the silent, brooding one. I should pitch them the idea.

“It’s pretty typical,” Tyler says, laughing. The blue of the jersey brings out his tanzanite eyes.

“Hey,” I say softly, “thanks for coming. Daniel needs you guys.”

Tyler smiles, and like always, it’s warm and genuine. He’s always such a nice presence to have around, whether it’s at the rink or at a party. He’s a little too much sugar and not enough spice for my taste, but he’s a good friend and—I’m pretty sure—the only Falcon on the team never to have made a pass at me while I was bandaging them up.

“Daniel’s my best friend,” Tyler says. “I’d fly around the world—or to a small European country—for that guy, anytime.”

I laugh and then…Tyler and I both simultaneously draw in our breath.

The Queen Dowager, with Eva on her arm, is walking down the steps of the castle to the courtyard. Her one black streak of hair glints in the sun, and her eyes are searching, judging. She came. The Queen Dowager actually came to Daniel’s community event. I can’t believe it.

I also don’t know why Tyler is acting so strange. I mean, I’m pretty sure he has no idea who the Queen Dowager is, unless he’s done some serious Googling on Eldonia. But then I notice he’s not staring at the Queen.

He’s staring at Eva.

Okay, okay. Eva is flawless in her pale pink dress, with a lacy fascinator on her luscious long locks. But it’s the Queen’s presence that’s the real big deal right now.

“Who is she?” Tyler breathes.

“Umm, just Daniel Sacachelli’s one and only baby sister.” I give him a don’t-even-think-about-it stare. “And the princess of Eldonia. You’d better watch out. She’s kind of intense, and not just in the sexy-smouldering way, but also in the she-might-behead-you way.”

Tyler’s mouth hangs open and his face reminds me of a baby owl. If Eva asked him to get in the guillotine at this moment, I have a feeling he would stick his neck in with pleasure.

“Oh my God,” I say, grabbing Tyler’s arm. “The Queen’s going over to Daniel.”

“Ow!” Tyler says. “Nails!”

“Oh sorry.” I loosen my grip slightly. “BUT SHE’S GOING OVER TO DANIEL.”

The Queen Dowager and Eva head straight toward Daniel’s spaghetti station. I bite my lip and wring Tyler’s arm between my hands. I hear him grunt but ignore it.

Daniel’s face is stricken and I cover my eyes. I can’t bear to watch.

“You okay, Madison?”

I shake my head and peek through my fingers at Tyler. “Please tell me there’s no fighting.”

“No fighting,” Tyler says with a smirk. “Just spaghetti.”

I chance a look. Mama Sacachelli is loading up Eva’s plate with meatballs and sauce, and Daniel’s passing the Queen a plate of noodles. The Queen and Mama S exchange a few words and smiles and then the Queen even laughs. She laughs!

Then she and Eva take a bite—the Queen’s a bit more dainty than Eva’s. Daniel looks like he might pass out at any moment. But the Queen smiles.

And takes another bite.

“She likes it,” I dare to say. “Tyler, she likes it!”

“Who wouldn’t?” He shrugs. “Daniel’s mom is the best cook.”

“But Daniel made it himself,” I say with pride. Because it’s not just spaghetti. The Queen Dowager came. And maybe, maybe, she’s starting to see Daniel for what he is—not just the rightful king, but the right king.

“Oh my God,” Tyler says, his voice breathy. “Do I look sweaty?! I feel sweaty! Touch my head, am I sweaty?”

Tyler grabs my hand and throws it under his blond curls.

“Ew, yes. What’s your deal?”

I feel her presence before I see it.

“Hello, Madison.” Eva’s heels click methodically on the cobblestone as she approaches us. I can tell her mask is on and shields are up.

“Oh, hey, Eva.” I quickly push my hair behind my ears and straighten a wrinkle in my sleeve.

It’s like someone turned on a heater beside me. Tyler has gone as red as one of Eldonia’s famous tomatoes.

Eva hardly gives him a glance. “I just wanted to thank you. For helping Dan-Dan put on such a wonderful event.” She still holds her plate of spaghetti. “This was a great idea.”

“Thanks to you, we got Daniel’s team here.” Hmm, I can’t pass up an opportunity like this. “Like his BEST friend, Tyler Evans. Tyler’s a defenceman on Daniel’s team. Actually, Tyler’s the BEST defenceman. They don’t call him Tyler “THE BOULDER” Evans for nothing.”

Tyler squeaks, “Actually, no one calls me that—”

“Do they really?” Eva finally looks at him. “My bodyguard is called the Boulder. What a wonderful coincidence!”

I take a step back. Tyler’s not able to get out a reply, but Eva’s on a roll, saying how the Boulder happens to be not only her bodyguard’s last name but is also very fitting because he is both the size and shape of a large rock formation. I narrow my eyes. Actually, I think this is the most I’ve ever seen Eva talk to anyone but Daniel, like, ever. Maybe hanging out with Alice and me has rubbed off on her.

“Hey.” I bump backwards into something that actually feels quite boulderish. But when I turn around, I see it is the hard, chiselled chest of Daniel Sacachelli.

“Hey,” I say back, trying to sound as casual as he does. “So, the Queen Dowager—”

“Said she’d match every donation,” Daniel interrupts. A huge grin spreads across his face.

“What?” I squeal and bounce on my toes. “Really?”

“Really,” Daniel says. “We did it, Mads.”

I give him a genuine smile. “I’m proud of you, Daniel.”

“Everything about today,” he says, “is because of you.”

And maybe it’s for the people. Maybe it’s for the press. Or maybe it’s for me, but he wraps his arms around my waist, and I push myself tight against his chest.

And for the sweetest moment, everything fades away, and it’s just the two of us.

And then there’s Eva. I guess she got tired of waiting for Tyler to say something. He’s still standing behind her, looking at the back of her head as if she’s a golden idol.

“A wonderful event, Dan-Dan,” she says. “Mama is quite pleased with you, and she’s quite taken with your mother.”

“Is she actually?” Daniel lets me go.

“Yes. You know, I think it was good for her to meet your mother.” Eva looks down. “I think…I think Mama always thought your mother was some sort of American harlot. She didn’t realize that she’s kind and warm.” Eva’s eyes sparkle. “Just like her son.”

Daniel’s gaze drifts from the spaghetti station, where his mom and the Queen are still chatting, back to his sister. “And you…are you happy?”

She holds her plate of spaghetti out to Tyler. An awkward beat passes before he realizes what she wants him to do and leaps forward to hold it for her.

With her hands free, Eva floats to Daniel and grabs his hands in hers. “Oh Dan-Dan, I’m so happy. I think…I think this is really happening.”

Daniel stiffens. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

“So what’s next?” I cross my arms and take a step closer to them.

“Next,” Eva says, not taking her eyes off Daniel, “you will come to my arena, this time. And pledge your intent to take the throne in front of all the dignitaries, statesmen, and officials of Eldonia.”

“Oh,” Daniel squeaks. “Just that.”

“And on the anniversary of Papa’s death,” Eva says, kissing him on the cheek, “you shall be king.”