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“I guess we could but—“
A knock at the door behind me cut off the rest of my sentence. “Prince Leonidas, the delegation is here and ready for you. Shall I help you dress?”
Reginald. The last thing I needed was for him to see me in Fitz’s bedroom.
“Uh, no, thank you. I’m dressed.” The door started to rattle, and Fitz spoke faster to stop him. “Or I will be shortly. Give me a moment.” His hands pushed me toward the tunnel entrance, hurrying me to make my exit.
“I get how this looks, but surely they know I’m not here to try to win a crown or seduce you or anything.”
Fitz pulled the painting back and urged me inside. “All they understand is the crown, Coco. And you are a threat to that.” He didn’t elaborate. Gripping the frame, he issued one more word of caution. “Don’t let anyone know about this tunnel or let on too much about our friendship. To the rest of the competition, you’re the dark horse.” His tone softened. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re here. I mean it. I need you, Coco.”
His words touched my heart. Our friendship was bigger than curtsies and protocol. As crazy as it all was when I thought about it, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be than helping him.
“I’ll see you tonight.” With a sneaky smile, I added, “Your Royal Highness.”
Fitz
I held the painting closed over the entrance until Coco had a chance to latch it. The tunnels had been put in by my great-grandfather, but they were a highly guarded secret of the royal family. I could get anywhere on the palace grounds by using them, but they were meant as a method of escape. Though, I felt confident that my great-grandfather might have approved of sneaking a girl into my room as well.
Her final words rattled around my brain. ‘Your Royal Highness.’ Never once had it sounded so sweet, but I couldn’t pinpoint the difference. I’d heard it since I was a child, but something about Coco’s voice made it new.
Was it the fact that she’d finally acknowledged my birthright? Or was my pride bolstered, knowing that she, an American, was bowing to me? Maybe it was simply the sweet voice of a beautiful woman that got under my skin.
She’d certainly grown up in our time apart. While she teased me about my ears, Coco had finally grown into her oversized eyes. When we were kids, I thought she looked like a lemur, perpetually wide-eyed, but as a woman… I found myself staring into the depths of her crystal-blue pools more than once.
I caught myself and righted my thinking. Michaela was here to help me find a wife, and if I could be derailed by a couple of moments with her, I was likely to be sent flying off the tracks into a heap when I met the rest of the women. I had twenty-five to meet in a few hours and I had to send ten home on first impressions alone. I didn’t have time for fanciful daydreams. Reginald knocked again, a true reminder of pressing duties. I moved toward my chamber door.
When it came down to it, my relationship with Michaela was deeper than anything I would ever find in the parlor later. We’d been in contact for well over a decade, even if we weren’t face-to-face any of it. She’d grown into a beautiful woman, there was no denying that, but she couldn’t be the queen. Boundaries would have to dictate the nature of our relationship. No romance. Only friendship.
I set my grip to the doorknob and drew in a breath, preparing myself. Reginald would enter and I needed to put these foolish thoughts away. I wasn’t a boy anymore. Duties awaited me. Fantasies from my youth were for a life that would never be mine.
Michaela
Alady’s maid.
Couldn’t claim I’d ever had one of those. Even when I was in pageants, I was required to do my own hair and makeup. I’d spent years perfecting the craft and so when Dahlia, my lady’s maid, started in with the blue eyeshadow, I was quick to dismiss her.
“Milady,” she frowned, “it will make your blue eyes brighter. It matches.”
“While I see your thinking...” I took a deep breath and fought through the jetlag that was erasing my internal filter. “I need to set down some rules. No blue eyeshadow for me. I’ll look like a Madonna video from the eighties.” I snatched the brush from her hand. “How about you work on my hair, and I’ll do my makeup?”
“Very well, milady.” She gave a quick curtsy and returned to the tools she’d left on the dresser. Meanwhile, wiped away the bright-blue swash of color she’d put all the way up to my eyebrows.
“Have you been doing this long, Dahlia?” I popped open my compact and went to work on my foundation. “Lady’s maid and all that?”
“You’re my first charge, milady.”
I took my blender out of my zip-up bag and started working. “Look, I get that there are appearances to keep up, but I’m really not comfortable with the milady stuff.” I caught her stare through the mirror. “Can you just call me Mick?”
“Oh, milady, I don’t think it’s proper to—“
“I don’t mean in front of anyone else.” I paused for it to sink in. “Just when it’s the two of us. For my sanity.”
Relief flooded her features, quickly followed by a fair amount of rebellion. “Yes… Mick.”
“Sweet. Thank you.”
We worked quietly for a moment, me blending and highlighting and Dahlia searching for something. I pulled out my favorite eyeshadow kit and looked up just in time to see Dahlia returning with a pair of silver scissors.
