Chapter Twenty

“Are you hungry yet?” Mallory asked for about the tenth time since they’d arrived at the imposing stone Parliament building. “I have a PB&J. Well, I think it’s almond butter, but close enough, right? Some dried fruit and nuts. And a banana.”

Kelsey had been on auto-pilot since Elias delivered his bombshell of a breakup. But Mallory’s offered buffet roused her curiosity. Especially since they hadn’t been allowed to bring their bags. Or their own clothes. Stylists had dressed both of them head to toe for the grand royal reveal.

She pointed at the baby-blue purse that matched the high-necked sheath dress Mallory wore. “You’re only carrying a clutch. Where’s all this food you’re promising?”

“In the purse. I took everything else out, even left my phone back at the palace. Because my sister’s health and well-being is more important than access to social media.”

Grimacing in fake outrage, Kelsey blustered, “That’s blasphemy. Take it back.”

In a far quieter, more serious tone, Mallory said, “You’ve barely eaten since Thursday.”

Oh yeah, since her world had come crashing down and her heart got ripped out of her chest? Nope. Not so much interested in scarfing down—or even nibbling on—anything. She flashed a tight, “don’t worry about me because I’m hunky dory” smile. “I’m not hungry.”

“Get there,” Mallory said. “The best step in recovering from a breakup is the guilt-free binge eating. And I can’t do it without you.”

Kelsey fussed with her three-quarter length sleeve. In a paler shade of lavender than Genevieve’s purple dress, although otherwise identical. Which she’d let slide this once, but…if she ended up staying in Moncriano? It would stop.

She hadn’t worn matching clothes with Mallory in twenty-five years. No way did she intend to start being cutesy now with her other sister. Not even in haute couture. Especially not in painful heels and a beauty-pageant-type sash that held a pearl encircled cameo of her dead mother.

But that was an issue Kelsey simply didn’t have the bandwidth to tackle today. Her hand covered the cameo with Serena’s face, suddenly craving contact with the mother she’d never really known. Wishing that she could sit with her and pour out her problems, and get the type of motherly advice that solved everything.

Because she hadn’t solved anything by herself.

Staying—and not being with Elias—didn’t seem possible.

Leaving because of a bad breakup seemed weak and immature, which just pissed her off.

Either way, the king expected her answer tomorrow.

And today she was about to be presented to the entire country as the missing Princess Valentina. It was time to pull herself together. Pouting was never a good look.

She pushed away the banana Mallory waved in front of her. Mustered up a bit of side-eye. “I thought you used to say that the best step was revenge sex?”

“That also has its merits.” Straight-ironed hair fell in a red stream across her shoulder as Mallory looked left at the lineup of minor royals and Parliament members milling near the doorway. “I’m not sure how easy that’ll be to accomplish with you being outed to the world in a few minutes. Let’s focus on eating all the pizza and pastries instead.”

“There’s this luncheon right after the presentation. Probably no pizza, but I’m betting the desserts will be killer. The palace chefs are in charge of the food.”

“Ludovico,” Mallory sighed with a far-off smile. They’d hunted down the pastry chef in the bowels of the palace to thank him after eating a sweet fried dough filled with cream and apricot jam that was basically bliss in a bun. The man was a magician. “You almost want to sleep with him just to see what yummy rolls or pancakes he’d make you the next morning.”

Kelsey ticked off points on her fingers. “I’m not sleeping with someone who’ll plump me up with impossible to resist sweets.” Because she was definitely off running as exercise now that she’d always associate it with Elias dumping her. “I’m not sleeping with a member of the staff.” Not again, anyway. Lesson learned. The hard way. “Oh, and I’m not sleeping with anyone in the near future because the only man I want is the man I can’t have. The one who refuses to be with me.”

“Shhh.” Mallory jerked down her hand and clapped a hand across her mouth. “Ix-nay on mentioning the odyguard-bay.”

“Mal, everyone in this room speaks not just two languages, but some three or four. You really think Pig Latin’s going to stump them?”

“I’m just reminding you to keep, you know”—she jerked her head toward Elias, standing against the wall—“a secret. You don’t want any blowback for your relationship, especially if you aren’t getting the perks of it anymore.”

Perks. Yeah. Kelsey assumed Mallory was talking about the toe-curling sex, which had been spectacular. But what she missed more was Elias by her side, solid as a rock. Listening to her. Laughing with her. Bolstering her. Taking lessons from his enviable sense of duty to his country that so helped her come to terms with her own.

As much as she appreciated Mallory dropping everything to come to Moncriano, it was Elias’s steady presence that had made the biggest difference. That had given her the strength to not just flounder in this strange land, but start to flourish.

In this room full of people who bowed to her, people who rejoiced at her simply being alive, people who were her family…

Kelsey had never felt more alone.

Mallory vaulted out of her seat like a Jack-in-the-Box. Having seen it happen repeatedly over the past two weeks, Kelsey knew it signaled another royal approaching. Her sister dropped into a deep curtsey.

“Your Majesty.”

“Miss Wishner.” The king was spiffed up in a lightgray suit, also wearing a sash. His bore a slew of fancy medallions on ribbons. “I hope you don’t find your duties as lady-in-waiting too onerous.”

“It’s a nice change of pace getting official recognition for putting up with her. I’ve often said I deserve a medal for it. Kelsey can be a pain in the neck.”

She squeezed her sister’s arm. “Mallory. Dial it back, okay?”

Her head dropped, red hair hiding her undoubtedly flaming face. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to badmouth the princess.”

But the king looked amused. “Nonsense. You should hear Christian and Genevieve peck at each other. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to be honest.”

“Honestly, Kelsey is the other half of me.” Mallory thrust her arm through Kelsey’s. “She’s wonderful. Once you get to know her, you’ll see. There’s nobody more loyal or caring or trusting.”

That might be more embarrassing than her previous character testimonial. Sheesh. But also sweet. Definitely enough, though. “Mallory, would you go grab me a bottle of water?”

“Sure.” She did a bow/curtsey combo to the king and darted away.

“I do look forward to discovering all those qualities in you,” King Julian said quietly, head cocked to the side as he stared intently at her. He did that, quite often. Kelsey wondered if he was seeing her, his dead wife, or still trying to figure out who this stranger was that happened to be related to him.

“I’m also irrationally competitive at board games. And a massive introvert.” She might as well tell him, in case her nerves got the better of her and caused her to let him down. “I always wanted to watch people, not be the one everybody is staring it.”

The king took her hand in both of his and squeezed. “So watch them. See your people. Focus in on individual faces, not just the swath of the crowd. Watch the joy and excitement it brings them to be here, sharing in this momentous day.”

Instead of trying to get rid of the fear—which was impossible—his advice simply did a one-eighty in focus around it. It could work. “That’s…really helpful. Thank you, Tata.” Kelsey reached up to throw her other arm around his neck for a hug.

After a few pats on her back, the king kissed her forehead. “I’d like you to walk out right behind me.”

“Okay.” It was nice that he wanted her close. But…oh. Did that placement mean something? Weren’t they all walking out together?

“Papa, that’s not right.” Genevieve’s sharp rebuke had most of the heads in the room swiveling toward them. And given the pissy pout on her lips, the king’s request did indeed mean something.

One eyebrow raised, he replied, “It is my choice, Daughter.” And yep, there was more than a little parental “do not test me” in his tone.

“It’s a slight to Christian.” She tapped at some medal on Christian’s heavily decked-out sash that must indicate his awesome specialness. Or that he won a spelling bee back in the day. Kelsey would have to ask Sir Evan for a key to understand all those things. “He’s your heir, he should be right behind you.”

Christian flicked away her finger. “I don’t think anyone will forget I’m the heir if Kelsey walks in front of me, Genny. Lighten up. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” she said. “Appearances matter now more than ever, with all this unrest over joining the European Union. Kelsey needs to be recognized not as an extra family member, but symbolically as third in line to the throne. Standing in her place, behind me. Proving that she’s one more bulwark in the steady constancy of this monarchy.”

Kelsey winced. A lot. “Geez, Genevieve. Please don’t call me a ‘bulwark.’ That word alone adds at least twenty pounds to my mental image of myself.”

“I appreciate your instinct to highlight the safer-than-ever line of succession. But my decision stands.” Aaaand the king walked away after giving his royal command. Pretty slick trick. All parents should have the ability to shut up squabbling kids that easily.

Genevieve, to her credit, did look more worried than snitty. Or maybe Kelsey hadn’t fully learned how to read her yet. Squinting as though she had a toothache, she headed to the ornately swagged table of drinks and snacks.

Christian stayed put, however, and his violet eyes met hers in reassurance. “Genny wasn’t trying to put you in your place. Or make you think you’re less important. The three of us, we’re all equal, all in this together.”

Sort of. For now. Kelsey wavered her hand back and forth. “Until the day you put on the crown.”

“Yes, well, then I’m going to turn into a holy terror of decrees and orders and making both of you do my bidding. Be warned.” He gave a fake-evil chuckle, deep and long.

“Luckily, that’s decades away from happening.” She’d already lost her mother without getting to know her at all. Kelsey did not intend to have the same thing happen with her father.

“God, I hope so. I’m not ready to be king.”

“Is there such a thing as ‘ready’?”

“Well, if I was king, there’d be an insistence on my getting married and popping out heirs immediately. Tying myself to someone for the rest of our lives just because our titles mesh up well isn’t the love story of the century.”

“Why not hold out for love?” Kelsey wasn’t at all glad about getting her heart broken, but she did recognize that it was better to have experienced the fullness and fun of being with Elias than never having had that depth of feeling.

Christian scratched the back of his neck while rolling his eyes. “There are seven first-tier choices for my bride-to-be. Twelve second-tier, and twenty-one third-tier. All ranked in order of optimal pairing regards to titles, lands, political usefulness, and bloodlines. The chances of my falling in love with someone appropriate? You’d probably have better luck cleaning up at the baccarat tables in Monaco.”

“I don’t know how to play baccarat.”

“Exactly my point.”

They laughed again. Christian was easy to talk to. Much easier than Genevieve. He did feel like a brother.

“I just wanted to tell you not to be nervous. The announcement about your return—and your lovely new name—was blasted out overnight, so everyone who shows up today already knows. They won’t have any expectations for speeches. All you have to do is stand next to Papa and look like a princess.”

“Fake it ’til you make it?”

“Exactly. And you, Princess Kelsey, look elegant and quite royal today.”

“Even without a tiara?” The stylist had tried to pin one on, encrusted with diamonds in fanciful tiers. Insisted that it would convey her status, as a picture was worth a thousand words. Kelsey had stood firm. She refused to officially meet her subjects dressed like a Disney princess.

Christian roared with laughter. “I heard about that. Genny stood up for you, you know. Slapped back at the stylist for suggesting a tiara could be worn before six p.m.”

“I didn’t realize she agreed with me. That’s nice to hear.”

He reached out to touch a pearl on her cameo. “I’m very proud of you for accepting all these changes we’ve thrown at you. And I’m so very pleased to have my sister back.”

“I’m liking having a big brother, too.”

With a wink, he walked away. Mallory was instantly at her elbow, brandishing the bottle of water. “Here you go.”

“Do you have a pep talk for me, too?”

“Do you need another one?”

Kelsey chugged back a few glugs of water to buy time before answering. She didn’t want to come off as too needy. Mallory must be sick of walking on eggshells around her for the last three days.

“I know there’s no turning back now. There’s a stench of inevitability about this presentation. Like when I was twelve and had my tonsils out. Once I was on that gurney, I knew the operation would happen no matter how much I objected. So…yeah, I’m nervous.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness, but what you are is brave.” Elias had snuck up on her, but now that he was next to her, Kelsey felt every bit of his presence. “And bravery is having the strength to move forward despite acknowledging your fear. I’m very proud of you.”

His words bolstered her. She soaked up the compliment like a sponge. Actually felt her torso lean his way for a moment.

But then Kelsey remembered.

Remembered that they were crazy about each other, and yet he’d still cut her out of his life. Remembered how raw and sore her heart was. The tears she’d cried the past three nights. The empty ache at not having him anymore. Remembered that it had been his choice to be of service to the Crown, and not to be her partner.

She sort of wished she was wearing a tiara to go full princess-zilla on him. Lacking that, she drew herself up straighter and lowered her lids snootily. “You don’t get to be proud of me. Employees…staff…do not get to opine on my emotional status. It isn’t appropriate.”

Beside her, Mallory gasped, and Elias physically jolted at her harsh words. His brows drew together, mouth downturned, and he swayed backward. Regret and hurt washed over his features before his face shuttered into bodyguard mode.

“My apologies, Your Highness.” He bowed and turned on his heel.

“That was harsh,” Mallory clipped out.

“Hard to do, too.” Kelsey put her hand on her churning belly. “Could we maybe skip the food binge and go straight to a vat of wine?”

“Tonight. Although I’m going to insist on food if you want to drink away your misery. We’re smart enough to know that hangovers are not worth it.”

“I have a hangover already. An emotional one. A physical one would at least distract me from that.”

A staff member by the door said something she of course didn’t understand—the staff didn’t always remember she only spoke English—and they headed into a line.

Mallory squeezed her shoulder before getting into place. “My pep talk’s pretty short. I love you, Your Highness.”

Wow. A shiver chased down her spine. It was the first time her sister had used her title. Now it felt official. Well, that and the herald trumpets blaring an anthem as they crossed through the marble entryway.

The king wasn’t actually first. A row of a dozen bodyguards led the way. Even louder than the double line of trumpets was the chanting coming through the enormous curved doorway. “What are they saying?” she asked King Julian.

“Welcome home.”

Oh. That was lovely. The sound morphed into a solid wave of energy that practically picked her up and carried her outside, down the wide stone steps. Kelsey kept her eyes glued to the ground so the country’s first sight of her wouldn’t be a face-plant.

When King Julian stopped walking, she slowly looked up.

Right in front of her, at the bottom of the steps, was Elias. Breathtakingly handsome in an almost brutish way. His jacket bunched as he lifted his wrist to his mouth, communicating with the rest of the security team. Even though he wasn’t hers anymore, Kelsey let herself, one last time, siphon strength from him.

Then she looked out at the smiling, clapping, cheering throng. It wasn’t just the park in front of the parliament building jammed shoulder to shoulder. Hundreds, no, thousands of people filled the streets, rooftops, even across the bridge where Elias had taken her on their last date.

Her father had been right. They were happy, thrilled to see her with the rest of her family. Their joy was both contagious and tangible. Kelsey didn’t feel like an out-of-place American.

She felt like a Villani.

She looked right, at her father, so tall and commanding—a father to the entire country. Then to her left were Christian and Genevieve. Maybe they hadn’t ironed out all their personality kinks yet, but with siblings you took the good with the bad. This was her family. This was her place.

And Kelsey finally accepted, even embraced it.

There was no choice to be made. She belonged right here. This country, these people—they were her birthright. Her duty. Her destiny.

She’d never be the Princess Valentina an entire country had mourned and missed. But she’d stay, and figure out how to be the best possible Princess Kelsey for them.

From right behind her—in what the royal publicist had sniffed at as “unprecedented access for a commoner”—Mallory thwapped her elbow. “Wave. Smile.”

It was the least she could do. Kelsey was their princess, and her people deserved the respect of a greeting in return, although she should’ve practiced how to wave. The queen of England did that weird sideways scoop with her hand she and Mallory always made fun of.

Crap. Was that the official royal way to do it? She peered down at Genevieve. A little elbow action. A little wrist. Totally doable.

A man near the crowd control fences along the edge of the lawn lifted the flag of Moncriano overhead. At least she could recognize that now. He shouted something Kelsey wished she understood. She smiled right at him and waved enthusiastically.

In the next moment, it was like having a car land on her. Kelsey flew sideways and hit the steps with Elias clamped tight around her. It drove the air out of her, and her diaphragm seized up. His hand cradling her head was the only thing that kept her from blacking out.

She felt the crack of her wrist on the stone in a lightning burst of pain at the same time she heard three loud pops.

The cheering turned to screams.

The king was surrounded by four men and all but carried inside at a run. Christian and Genevieve were similarly strewn as her on the steps, bodyguards covering them.

And then Kelsey turned her head to the side to see Mallory lying a few feet away, gasping, with blood spreading across the front of her blue dress.