Her Secret Prince (14 page)

He hesitated. “No.”

She turned to Jed as her foot hooked around his calf under
the table. “And what are we thinking in terms of sticking around for a few days? You know, to give you two some time to get to know each other.” She gave her own opinion on the matter by nodding as she spoke. Less subliminal messaging, more blatant persuasion.

He held her gaze. “Not sure yet.”

“Because we passed some quaint little places on our way in that could be perfect for me while you two
bond.”

“No, please,” Oscar said. “If you stay, I’ll organize a room for you at the castle.”

Jed pressed a hand to his forehead as Dee rounded on Oscar, exclaiming, “This place has a castle?”

With a small wince, the sovereign prince of Leguarday nodded.

“With royalty in it?”

Another nod and a swift apologetic glance at Jed.

“And you could really get us a room there?”

He inclined his head,
in too deep to back out now. “I could make some calls.”

“Wow.” Eyes wide behind her glasses, Dee reached out and gripped Jed’s forearm. “You can’t say no.”

“Can’t I?” he murmured.

Her shoulders sagged. “A castle, Jed, with actual royalty. Imagine if we see a real live prince.”

The two real live princes at the table looked at each other. Oscar raised a helpless shoulder.

“Okay.” Jed sighed.
“But only if it’s no inconvenience.”

Dee faced Oscar. “Or only a small-to-medium sized inconvenience.”

Jed’s father smiled. “If we’re accepting medium inconveniences, I might even be able to arrange a personalized”—and here he met Jed’s eye meaningfully—“tour.”

He hoped to heaven that personalized meant no portraits of the royal family. Guilt squirmed through him, growing thicker by the second.
He’d lied to her. His wonderful Dee, whose buoyancy—or was it ignorance—had the royal guardsmen exchanging amused glances across the room. He was making a fool of her. Resolve set in his heart.

He would tell her today.

Regardless of whether he’d figured out how Oscar would fit into his life; how to realistically deal with having a prince as a father. One thing had become plain since arriving
in the café—his father bore no resemblance to the threat he’d always envisioned. Jed’s mother had lied, thinking she was protecting him, effectively cutting him off from a man who seemed as compassionate as he did powerful. He knew instinctively Oscar was worth his time and his future. That, at least, he could tell Dee with conviction.

“Now that’s settled.” Dee picked up a menu from the table.
“Who’s hungry?”

‡

D
ee couldn’t believe
her luck. This was quickly becoming the trip of a lifetime. First a darling old cottage and now a genuine stone castle from the eighteenth century, tucked bold and breathtaking between two mountains not far out of town, home to modern-day royalty. By the end of
lunch, Oscar had made some calls and arranged a tour of the castle and sprawling grounds. Their guide was a woman named Monique, who greeted them in the front hall with a delightfully formal bow, first towards Jed, then Dee.

As they set off into the blustery afternoon, Dee asked, “So Mon, how do you know Oscar?”

The woman appeared to bite her tongue and swallow it. Then she said, “I work for
him.”

“Is he a good boss?” She elbowed Jed lightly in the side. “You can tell a lot about a person from how they treat their subordinates, you know.”

He looked pained, but nodded.

“He is wonderful.” Monique tugged her coat tighter about her neck and gestured to the mountains and heavy green trees growing thick beyond the castle. “As you can see, Leguarday is picturesque with its coniferous
forests to the south and great lake to the east.” Lush grass coated the low hills in the other directions, scattered with rustic homes and vineyards. “In winter, tourists come to hike and ski in the slopes, and in summer, they come to swim and ski on the crystal blue water. The beauty of the city lies in the kindness of its people, the richness of its culture, and the history of its architecture.”
Renaissance and medieval structures stood in the oldest parts of town, complimented by a magnificent gothic cathedral in the city center. The castle itself was also gothic, with slim towers, narrow windows, and delicate flourishes. There were turrets and gables, balconies and pinnacles. Leguarday’s state flag snapped at the top of the tallest tower—the coat of arms on a background of white and blue.

It was magical.

If Dee thought the grounds were extensive, the inside of the castle was endless. Four stories tall and plump with sweeping staircases and tall corridors, marble floors and chandeliers, rooms and more rooms that only had a place in the home of royalty. A throne room, for heaven’s sake, and a sparkling grand ballroom. Monique pointed out an entire wing dedicated to servants, still
in use today. Dee gasped and sighed, wanting to spend days here, weeks, eternity, running her fingers along tapestries and climbing to the tallest spires. She was enamored by everything she saw.

Jed, not so much.

He regarded everything like it was a personal affront, as if the centuries-old stone was an insult to his very nature. Did he appreciate the luscious views of land and sky, the green
valleys and snowy peaks? No. Did he marvel over the stables and walk-in aviary? Not even a “humph”. Did he express any interest in peeking through the doors to the royal living quarters, closed off to general public? No. On that front, he was no help whatsoever.

“You could have created a diversion, at least,” she said to him, following as Monique led them back to their guest quarters. “I’d love
to see how the other half live.”

He flicked an impatient hand around them. “You’re seeing it.”

She frowned. “I was joking.”

Jaw tight, he didn’t answer.

Stopping at the door to their room, Monique tilted her head with a smile and asked, “What did you think?”

“
Loved
it.” Dee beamed at her. “Thank you so much.”

“And you, sir?”

Jed was still lost in his own world of dissatisfaction. “It’s
implausible.”

“It’s a shame we didn’t see a prince,” Dee said, peering around Monique as several people approached down the hall. “It would be exciting, wouldn’t it?”

“Very,” the tour guide agreed after a hesitation.

“What’s the royal family name, anyway?”

“Montaigne.”

“How gorgeous.” Dee splayed a hand over her heart. “Are they gorgeous?”

Monique glanced at Jed, who promptly turned and
marched into the guest chambers.

“Exquisite,” she replied.

*

“What is your
problem?”

The bedroom door clunked shut across the room. In a glance, Jed saw Dee’s arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Not a great lead-in to his confession, he knew, but considering the chaos tearing him up like a maelstrom, he thought he’d behaved rather well.
Stiffly, he turned to look back out the window as Dee continued. “So what if your imagination doesn’t extend to the fairy-tale? You could at least be polite. This is supposed to be fun.”

The city spread out below him. His father’s city, rich with a heritage and history he knew nothing about. A history he suddenly ached to learn and a heritage he could no longer deny.

The tour had rocked him.

Look at this, and this, and this—these are the holes in your soul. The holes you’ve always felt, empty and echoing, as you were dragged ignorantly around the world. But you were not dragged home. These are the reasons you’ve never felt whole, all right here, if only you’d known.

He knew now.

The key to feeling whole, feeling grounded, was right beneath his feet.

Leguarday was in his blood.

The chaos churned, threatening a decision of unprecedented gravity. The last thing he’d expected was to
consider
this life. He’d made no plans, no preparations. He had no defense against the impact of his homeland. It wasn’t greed or power that moved inside him, tempted by a life of control, but something far greater.

Belonging.

He couldn’t stop his heart rushing over the sensation, manic like
a beggar who’d stumbled upon paradise.

“I’m preoccupied,” he finally answered.

“And I’m not?” Dee stalked across the room, ignoring the resplendent bed hangings and lush carpet. “I’ve got a script due in four days and no idea how it ends. But Monique just gave up two hours of her day as a favor to her boss and you didn’t even say thank you.”

“I’m Oscar’s son,” he stated numbly, turning to look
at her.

She paused, tilting her head. A little of the fire left her eyes. Then she sighed, sympathy winning out. “I know.”

“He lives here.” In this castle, this palace.

She put a hand on his arm. “I know, honey.”

“He rules here.” In this city state, halfway across the world from Los Angeles.

Dee’s head angled a little further, and he felt his world tilt with it. “What do you mean?”

“He rules.”
Jed tried to swallow the guilt in his throat, but it was secured with merit. “This city. These people. Oscar is…he’s the sovereign prince.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She rolled her eyes. “I thought we were about to have a serious conversation.”

“We are.” He grabbed her hand as she turned away and she let herself be held. Unimpressed, she faced him, and dismayed, he said, “I’m so sorry, Dee. It’s
the truth.”

“What is? That Oscar’s a prince? Are you making fun of me because I like this place?” She looked genuinely peeved. “Because that is so lame and not at all funny.”

“I’m not.” But of course it sounded like it. The notion was madness. Jed pulled his phone from his pocket and with an unsteady hand, brought up the website Felix had sent him. In a castle filled with confirmation, he let
her find out as he had. Wordless, he passed it to her.

Exhaling through her teeth, Dee plucked the phone off him. Then she read. She frowned at first. Tilted her head again. Readjusted her glasses and brought the screen closer.

“So. Wait.” She tapped around and seemed to find an answer. Again and again, for minutes that stretched him like torture. She scoffed and hummed, until finally the phone
lowered and she pinned him with the betrayal in her eyes. “Wait.”

Jed swallowed around the guilt. There’d be no moving it, not in this lifetime.

“So Oscar isn’t actually your father?” She looked how he’d felt at the airport. Struggling to understand what it all meant and failing horribly. “Is this some devastating misunderstanding? I mean, it makes sense, because you guys look seriously alike,
but he seemed so happy at lunch. You both did. Did you not know yet, that you weren’t his son?”

“It’s not a misunderstanding.” He held her stare even though it killed him. “My mum confirmed it. Oscar is my biological father.”

An unbelievable yet inevitable conclusion found itself in her eyes. She frowned. “So you’re…”

“If Oscar claims me as his son,” Jed said. “Then yes, I’m a prince.”

“You’re
a prince.” After a moment, her brows rose and he saw typical Dee amusement twist her lips. The whole thing was outrageous. Of course she’d find it hysterical. She pointed a finger and said, “
You’re
a prince?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a prince.” She gave a single nod.

And then she laughed.

She laughed so hard she doubled over. She clutched at his arms, laughing until she no longer made sound. Jed stood
silently, letting her grip slide down his wrist to his fingers, letting her forehead press against his chest. She splayed a hand over his heart and went right on laughing. He said nothing as she struggled to regain her breath, nothing as she straightened and hauled herself under control. Then another peal of disbelief bubbled forth and she was off again, laughing like she’d never heard such a joke
in all her life.

His darling Dee laughed until she cried.

Not tears of amusement, in the end, but those of a most gut-wrenching pain. She lowered herself onto the window seat, fingers mangled together on her lap, staring up at him with tears still running. “You knew?” The words tumbled out with her pain. “You knew before the tour?”