Courted: Gowns & Crowns, Book 1 (30 page)

“That’s what everyone said
before
, and that didn’t work out so well.” Em waved her hand at the now-quiet screens. She glanced to Nicki and Fran, bent over the computer, and another flush swept through her. “This is going to be on the Internet forever. You realize that, right? After your royal celebrations are concluded and the prince gets married or whatever,
I’m
still going to be the one who goes online and gets to see my name splashed across the web as ‘Princess Gold Digger.’ And forget me and my stupid problems. Forget that every time I apply for a job or audition for an orchestra, I’m going to be looked at with curiosity. Forget that my association with you has resulted in an entire
lifetime
of whispers and punch lines and probably memes, for all I know. That’s all beside the point. My mom was brought into this. And even if she’s not the queen of Garronia, she’s still
my mother
. And I’ve brought nothing but shame to her.”

“Stop being melodramatic,” Stefan said, his tone harsh enough that Nicki and Fran looked up from their computer, and Lauren sucked in a startled breath. Em took a step back in the face of his sudden, sharp irritation. “You’ve provided assistance to your parents for the past year and more, dropping out of college, deferring your scholarship. It’s due, isn’t it? And you’re not going back, I suspect.” He scowled at her, then moved on. “You’re making your living now not by performing at one of your country’s most revered orchestras but by teaching lessons to the children of your local school. Your parents are not idiots, Miss Andrews, to care about any of this. They will treat this situation for what it is and so should you and any future employers you seek. It is not a situation of your making.”

But Em had stopped listening as the realization behind his words struck her. She stared at Stefan’s cold aristocratic face openmouthed, knowing she was gaping, knowing that she probably looked the fool. But she no longer cared about that. No longer cared about anything.

“How did you know all that?”

But even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. Of course she knew the answer. Kristos had probably been given an entire file cabinet of information on her before she’d ever shown up at the Visitors’ Palace that first afternoon. Their entire two-day “escape” probably had been vetted and approved as the least distasteful option to contain the story about her. And all the media coverage that had been generated had been carefully manipulated to the advantage of the royal family, since the very first photos had been taken.

She felt beyond exposed, beyond vulnerable.

She felt betrayed.

“I want out of here,” she said, her voice gaining strength with each new word. “
Now.
”

Kristos sagged slightly as the last of the guests left after lingering in the Great Hall for far too long. His mother looked almost as haggard as he did, at least when she thought no one was looking at her. His father also had become increasingly taciturn as the guests had somehow seemed to thwart their every attempt to end the evening.

But now they were alone, and he turned immediately to the far doors. He’d lasted over an hour here after leaving Emmaline, and he’d spent that time laughing—talking. Clapping people on the back. No one would know that his hands were nearly shaking with fury. No one
could
know that. He’d sent word to Stefan for reports, but nothing had come of that yet, much to his increasing irritation.

He nodded to his parents. It was far past time he—

“Kristos.”

The king’s voice carried the sharp crack of authority, underscoring his position not only as king but as father. It was the only reason Kristos stopped in his tracks.

“There’s been another media surge. I am needed—”

“I know about what has been aired about Emmaline. It’s out of your hands now.”

That drew him up short. “What do you mean, out of my hands?”

Jasen drew a tired hand over his eyes. “You have to learn to think
strategically,
Kristos. You could have predicted that this was one of the paths the media might take after you’d read Emmaline’s dossier.”

“Her what?” Kristos shook his head. “I never read her dossier.”

The king’s raised brows were the only indication of his disappointment in that revelation, and he pushed on. “Her family is in debt. Significant debt. Emmaline may not have known it originally, but there was a reason why she needed to get a scholarship to pursue her studies. When her parents both left their jobs abruptly in the wake of the accident, their insurance covered only so much. Her father tapped any accounts he could find to pay for their care. Now their credit is compromised. Anyone with rudimentary skills of observation could see that, and suddenly here’s a young woman halfway across the world, kissing a prince. It’s not a difficult leap.”

Kristos could only stare. “You
knew
about this story, that they were going to take this angle? You knew it was brewing and yet you let Emmaline show up and wave at the cameras?”

“No.” It was his mother who spoke now, her voice cutting sharply across the conversation. “We didn’t know they were going to stoop this low. We should have guessed, but we didn’t know. The first broadcasts were only brought to our attention at the onset of the gala. The damage had been done. There was no point in changing course once everyone was inside.”

“But she is being
vilified
,” Kristos gritted out. “Surely we could have stopped that from happening.” He knew his anger was mostly directed at himself, but that didn’t help matters. He could have stopped it from happening, yes. But he hadn’t wanted to. In his selfish need to put his own life on hold, he’d compromised Emmaline’s. Again and again.

His father shook his head. “When the media take hold of a story, it’s no longer yours to change. It’s not something one person can do. I’m sorry, but this is part of being a member of a public family that you are going to have to learn to accept and endure, or simply stay out of the limelight altogether.”

Kristos bristled. Hadn’t he just said as much to Emmaline?
Hypocrite
. “She doesn’t deserve this. She didn’t do anything wrong except run into me.”

“Technically, it was the other way around.” His mother’s gaze was gentle, but still intent upon him, as if she was trying to see things that weren’t there anymore. Could never be there. The weight in his chest seemed to grow, dragging him down.

“That is exactly my point. At every turn, I have brought her under more and more scrutiny—the Visitors’ Palace—the chateau—the castle. She was living her life very well before I happened to her, and now she’s a virtual prisoner behind these walls.”

“Not a prisoner anymore.”

Kristos turned, his fury stoked even higher to see Stefan’s cold face as his older cousin sauntered into the room. “What are you doing here? I asked you to protect Emmaline and her friends.”

“And we have.” He nodded to Dimitri, who stood stiffly at his side. The bodyguard’s face was also a mask of cool civility, but something dark and fierce swirled beneath it, something barely able to be contained. “They’ll stay at the Hotel Garronia tonight, and leave tomorrow for the airport. Given the additional scrutiny, I’ve arranged for a charter flight to Galileo Galilei, then private transport to their villa in Tuscany.”

“At the Hotel—are you insane! We’ve already seen how inadequate their security is. That’s unacceptable.”

Stefan didn’t honor this with a response. He looked to the queen. “They left behind their gowns and completely understand if you cannot ship them—”

“Of course we’ll ship them,” his mother said, waving tiredly. “I’ll have an aide make arrangements for cleaning and transport. It’s not as if we don’t have their addresses.”

Her words galvanized Kristos once again. “They figured it out, didn’t they? Emmaline did, most certainly.” He glared at Stefan, who stared back at him, unconcerned. “She found out about our dossier on her. That was the final straw.”

“She made an educated guess that I did not dispute.” Stefan shrugged. “What did you think was going to happen, exactly, when the curtain came down on the charade you were playing with the woman?”

“Charade!”

“Stefan.” King Jasen’s tone held a warning, but Stefan’s eyes were flinty as he glared back at Kristos.

“She’s an American with an brain-damaged mother and a clinically depressed father who’s barely able to bring himself back from the edge of ruining her entire family, after an accident he believes he could have avoided. You can’t expect to swoop in and carry her along the tide of your largesse and expect she won’t be changed by it in the aftermath. You made her into an overnight sensation with your juvenile posturing and swagger, and, like it or not, she is going to be the one to pay the price for that.”

“Stefan, that’s enough,” Catherine said. “We’ll provide every statement we can to help ameliorate the media’s portrayal of Emmaline—”

“No,
we
will not. I will.” Kristos seethed, his fists clenched. It was everything he could do not to launch himself at Stefan, but a part of him, once again, knew that his anger, his outrage was as sharp as it was because of the
truth
in Stefan’s words.

The royal family had not done this to Emmaline and her friends.

He had.

In only a few short days, he’d managed to turn her life into a media circus. And in so doing, he had taken a sweet, caring, beautiful woman, and had transformed her into the horrified shell he’d seen in the conference room earlier this evening. The last sight he’d ever likely see of her was that of her shocked eyes, wide and disbelieving, as the reflection of a dozen news videos splashed across her face.

He refused to wish away the last three, perfect days he’d spent with Emmaline, though he knew she probably did. She had no reason to ever forgive him, and he would never ask that anyway.

It was finished.

Chapter 21

Em and her friends had been waiting for hours in what had to be the most comfortable jail cell she’d ever seen, but it was still a jail cell. Dimitri had joined them a good forty-five minutes ago and had stood stone-faced, looking straight ahead. His only words were that they needed to wait until safe passage could be assured for them. As if they were criminals, or hostages. Or both.

She felt sick. She hadn’t meant to incur the Crown’s enmity with her sudden need to flee, but what else was she supposed to do? Sit around and eat chocolate-covered fruit while every television in the kingdom blared with accusations of her gold-digging ways? Her stomach plunged again, and she placed a balled fist against it.

“You need to stop obsessing,” Fran murmured beside her. “Everything that’s passed is unchangeable, and everything forward doesn’t have to be tainted by it.”

Em glanced at her. “Do you tell that to convicted criminals too?”

“Every time I get the chance. But you’re not a criminal, Em—and you don’t have to be a victim either.”

“That’s beautiful.” Nicki rolled her eyes. “But that doesn’t change the fact that some assholes are out there saying things they should be held accountable for. Em wouldn’t even know how to
begin
going on a gold-digging expedition for a prince—a prince none of us had ever heard of before this week except Lauren, and Lauren doesn’t count. She had to do something when she wasn’t shopping.”

“At least I have a decent wardrobe to show for it,” Lauren shot back. “You spend every day in shorts and jog bras. And don’t tell me you’re pursuing your dream life in your work as an ‘adventure blogger.’ I’ll throw up.”

“I’m twenty-three!” Nicki shrugged. “A normal job will be there when I’m ready for it. And this isn’t about me. How’d this get to be about me?”

Em smiled, knowing her friends were only trying to cheer her up. The fact that it was working wasn’t the surprising part. The fact that she was letting them do it was.

Maybe Fran was right. Maybe she was worrying too much. The people who knew her, knew that she wasn’t some needy, grasping harridan out to sink her nails into an unsuspecting prince. The thought was laughable. True, she still could barely make ends meet with her father’s hospital bills and probably even more creditors that would start popping up when word went out that she was back, but she was making it work.

She had her job at the school and was giving lessons, just as Stefan had said. She also helped make doughnuts most early mornings at the shop her father loved, though that was more to be there whenever her dad came in to see his pals before his workday at the library began. It was the only time of day he really relaxed, really became the man she remembered before the accident.

The time stretched on another hour as they waited, and Em checked her phone for the millionth time. It was past three a.m. now, and Nicki had already dozed off on the couch, Fran drowsing next to her, looking for all the world like they were teenagers at a sleepover kept up way too far past their bedtime. Dimitri still stood like a rock at the far end of the room, and Lauren followed Em’s gaze, scowling at him. “What’s his name again?”