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“No.” I responded way too fast. “Of course not.” I spun around and headed toward the door, looking for escape.
The sanctuary intruder made it to his feet in record time and barred the way, excitement in his eyes growing exponentially. “You did. You just called the Crown Prince of Nolcovia Fitz. And by your accent—”
“I don’t have an accent,” I fired back. “You do.”
“By your accent,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “you must be the American.” He crossed one arm over his chest, perched his elbow on it, then cradled his chin in his hand, as though to mime deep thought. “Tell me, how do you know my cousin?”
Unsure of how to answer, I held my tongue as I considered the repercussions. “We met overseas.”
Not bad. Vague enough.
“He’s only been to America once,” the stranger interceded. He took lengthy steps toward me, cutting our distance by half and doubling my pulse instantly. “What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t.” I couldn’t screw this up for Fitz. And yet, I felt like I was navigating a treacherous trail through a crocodile-infested jungle. Was it just me, or was my friendship with the prince one of the most guarded mysteries in the kingdom?
“And if I asked it now?” He wasn’t backing down and he kept moving closer. How bad could it be to give my name? Most of the country knew it after last night’s broadcast.
“Michaela Caldwell.”
His hazel eyes narrowed. “Perchance, are you the infamous ‘Coco’ he used to gab on about?”
My nickname wasn’t common knowledge nor was our adolescent friendship. But something made me want to confirm the truth. Maybe it was because he was the spitting image of Fitz. A little taller and muscular with hazel eyes instead of brown and, of course, he didn’t have that stressed-out, forced-to-rule in the worst circumstances look that Fitz did.
But looking alike didn’t mean they were friends. I didn’t owe this stranger anything.
“I need to get going.” I shifted to move around him, but he quickly filled the space to block me.
“Answer something for me.” He had an uncanny way of hedging up my path without ever touching me. “I understand why Fitz would be a derivative. And for the record, I approve the nickname. It humanizes him… Poor stiff.” He squinted, showing his consternation. “But Coco? From Michaela? It makes no sense. I don’t see the connection.”
“Please,” I tried to appeal to him, “I don’t want to be late.”
“You won’t be,” he assured me. “He’s not back yet.” His scrutinizing stare watched for my reaction. “Does that bother you? Your Fitz out with other women?”
“He’s not mine.”
“Oh,” the stranger laughed at the thought, “let me assure you he is, dear Coco. You’re all he talked about until your name was banned from the palace walls.” He frowned as a new thought occurred to him. “I’m surprised they even let you disembark your plane.”
“What do you mean?”
All too smug that he had answers I wanted, he shrugged. “Explain Coco’s origins, and I’ll tell you.”
He wasn’t going to give up, so without knowing his name, I relented. “My mom gave me the nickname. I was born with dark hair and lots of it. She always said it was the shade of baking cocoa.” That’s all she called me. And it stuck. It explained the name, but not why the Crown Prince used it. I gritted my teeth, knowing I’d have to trade a secret for a secret. “Fitz was around my house so much, he got used to using it too. That’s all.” I crossed my arms like I meant business. “Now spill. Why wouldn’t someone want me here in Nolcovia?”
“That was hardly the juicy secret I was hoping for, but I suppose a deal is a deal.” He frowned, but even with time he couldn’t seem to find a loophole. “Aside from me,” he stretched the word out to give it emphasis, “you’re the biggest threat to the crown.”
Fitz
Iwalked Eirene back to the fire after our conversation. She hadn’t held back, and it left me feeling like she’d raked me over the coals. Problems in the kingdom ran deeper than I expected. Years ago, dukes had been appointed to oversee the provinces to ensure the people had food, employment, and everything they needed to be happy and live fulfilled lives. But, if Eirene was right, many had become corrupt and lived indulgent lives while their people suffered. The thought gutted me, and our royal ignorance stung even more.
I reached for Eirene’s hand and, to my surprise, she actually gave it. I wished I felt something more for her, but other than her brilliant mind, I wasn’t attracted to her at all. I was closer to offering her a position as an advisor than I was to asking for her hand in marriage. My lips grazed her knuckles, breathing in the cold from her skin. I couldn’t write her off yet though. Even if romance never bloomed between us, she would be a queen who would challenge my thinking and influence positive change.
“Thank you.” I meant it. “You’ve given me much to think about.”
Her demeanor had softened in our time together. “My deepest gratitude for your sincere interest, Your Highness.”
As she pulled away, I searched my heart, willing some romance to rise to the surface, but other than deep respect, I felt nothing.
“Gwen,” I sought her out by the fire, “fancy a walk?”
