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He had an affinity for frogs.
Maybe the rest would come together if I followed the instructions.
Almost as if he was right beside me, I felt an urgency to at least check it out. Flashlight in hand, I crossed the room to the bookcase and slipped Romeo and Juliet back where it obviously belonged. Searching the shelf, I quickly located a small metal frog. The rough surface grated my finger as I touched it. Pinching the sides, I tried to pick it up, but it didn’t budge. It was as though someone had welded the figurine to the shelf. Thinking of the note, I pinched the sides again and instead pushed it to the left.
The frog clicked into place, leaving an open track behind it. Grinding gears and squeaky mechanisms churned to life behind the wall. I stumbled back a step, fearful that I’d screwed things up again. The bookcase shuddered once before a thumping sound released a latch and the entire thing hinged forward.
Wide-eyed, I peered beyond the bookcase and stared into the depths of a pitch-black tunnel. Did Fitz want me to go in there?
Was I about to get into hot water by following through on his request? Fitz hadn’t even taken the time to meet me, and now he wanted me to go through some creepy dark tunnel?
I groaned and clicked on the flashlight. How bad could it be?
Michaela
My first steps beyond the entryway felt damp and cold.
Fitz wouldn’t make me do something dangerous, would he?
I’d never been a fan of spiders. I kept the beam of light on the ground in front of me to avoid seeing anything that might steal my courage. From the dank smell of the tunnel, I felt positive it hadn’t been used in years, maybe decades. Instinct kept my breathing short and shallow. With my luck, I was going to open the other side and stumble into the middle of some summit meeting, or release a deadly ancient virus on the world, or worse—anger his mother.
She’d never been a huge fan of mine as far as I could tell. Despite how much she loved all things American, something about me didn’t qualify for the adoration she gave to the rest of the old Red, White, and Blue. Fitz had told me for years about his mother’s different obsessions, from reality TV to monster truck rallies, to even Las Vegas and its showy lifestyle. She had nothing but warmth for the whole lot of it. But when it came to me, she was as cold as the snowy mountains surrounding Nolcovia.
Speaking of cold, while my room was downright balmy because of the fireplace, the tunnel had my teeth chattering, reminding me that it was definitely winter in the frosty country. The floor slanted upward. My apprehension mounted as the tunnel came to an abrupt stop. Shining my flashlight on the wall, I noted an ancient latch and a rectangular shape of what could pass for a door. While the walls were made of stone, the space in front of me was constructed of wood. Clenching my teeth, I locked my grip on the latch and said a silent prayer that I wasn’t about to start an international incident.
Though if I did, it wouldn’t surprise me.
The knocking sound of the latch sliding back echoed off the walls of the tunnel but with hardly a push from the tips of my fingers, the panel swung forward. Light flooded the darkness around me. I squinted and stepped through the opening. Blinking, I waited for my eyes to adjust to my new surroundings.
Deep hunter-green walls accented with gold trimmings greeted me. I quirked a grin because it was another aspect of his love of frogs and had always been his favorite color. A massive bed took up most of the far side of the room with a door that led to what looked like an enormous bathroom. I couldn’t even imagine his closet. Most of us wanted a walk-in. Did Fitz own a live-in closet? Sized for a family of three to live comfortably?
As I moved clear of the doorway, it struck me that I’d only assumed the bedroom belonged to Fitz. It was just as possible that I was wandering in some random fella’s bedroom. I stopped and turned back, facing the opening I’d come through. What if it was the king’s bedroom?
Visions of Alice in Wonderland popped into my head. With a country as old as Nolcovia, was the guillotine still in play? My hands immediately went to my neck.
Footsteps clacked against the wood floor in the next room. Driven, full of purpose, and headed straight for me. I scurried to the opening, suddenly realizing that the rectangular door was actually a painting on a hinge. If I could get inside, then I would pull it shut, sprint down the tunnel and no one would ever have to know I was creeping around in the king’s bedroom.
“Excuse me.” The voice stopped me mid-step. “Might I ask how you found your way in here? This is highly irregular and rather bold, maybe even impetuous, but if you can explain your presence then I do think it might be possible to—“
I spun so fast my hair whipped across my face, temporarily blinding me for a moment. But that didn’t matter. I knew his voice. Yes, it was deeper. It didn’t crack with every other word anymore. His accent had only deepened, but there was no way in the world I could ever mistake his voice. And if he was here, then everything would be okay.
“Fitz?” I waited with suspended breath. Did he recognize me? Would it all be as it was, or had too many years passed?
His eyes narrowed but quickly registered as they locked onto my face. A crooked grin tipped his cheeks, the same grin that had gotten me through some of the hardest times of my life. With a short laugh, he took the steps between us in huge strides, never pausing once before he threw his arms around me and pulled me into his tight embrace. Warmth from his frame had nothing on the glow in my heart. It had been years since we’d been together, but our bond didn’t understand time. It reached beyond the rules of the rest of the world and connected us in ways I’d never connected to another soul. My fingers locked into his jacket, clutching him like the treasure he’d always been for me. His face turned into my hair, close enough that his whisper tickled my ear. “Coco, how I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Tears filled my eyes. The product of too many emotions I couldn’t understand. “I never knew how much until now.”
He laughed and pulled me tighter. “Likewise. In fact, I may never let you go again.”
“That may make this whole competition a little awkward, don’t you think?”
A deep groan rattled in his chest. “Don’t remind me.” He released his grip enough to push back and survey my face. “I have to apologize. Reginald didn’t tell me he’d found you yet. I simply did not recognize you. Not until you spoke my name.” His hand shifted to touch my jaw, but quickly dropped. “You really grew up.”
“Happens to the best of us.” I cupped his ears between my palms. “You finally grew into these. I bet no one teases you about taking flight anymore.”
His head tilted to the left as he considered his words. “Here in Nolcovia, not many mock the Crown Prince.” His smile spread wide. “At least not to my face.”
The title brought me back to the reality of the moment. We weren’t kids anymore, and he wasn’t a foreign exchange student I was showing around for fun. He was next in line for his country’s throne, and I was there to help him find a wife.
