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At least, that’s what I would’ve said.
But Fitz had always been stronger than me.
Our eyes met, a faint smile slipped across his face, and he nodded slowly as if it was all he’d needed.
“Michaela and Blair, please come forward.” Fitz rubbed his palm over his face, weary in every movement. “We can finish this here.”
Like I had in many pageants, I held Blair’s hand as we stepped into the spotlight. Somewhere, I knew Tom and Corbin had to be lamenting the prince who’d gone off script again. He forgot to call us ladies, he didn’t pause at the last charm to create drama and let the lighting crew make it show-stopping.
But, as close as I could tell, Fitz wasn’t playing their game tonight.
Laughing dryly, he shook his head. “Now, considering the last ten minutes, I understand if you both want to flee for the nearest exit. Everything has clearly gone to pot, but please, for all that’s holy, tell me you’re willing to stick it out.” He held up the two charms. “What do you say?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Tom’s languished cry of frustration likely made it on camera.
“Uh… well…” Blair could hardly put her thoughts into words. “I—”
“She means yes, Your Highness.” I lifted Blair’s arm up to display her bracelet.
Amused, Fitz barely held back his smile. “Pleased to hear it.” He fastened the charm to Blair’s bracelet, then took her fingers and lifted her hand to meet his lips in a tender kiss. “I look forward to tomorrow, milady.”
Blair all but melted into a puddle. Their connection was so strong, I nearly got a contact swoon out of it. As she floated away on her fantasies and daydreams, Fitz turned his attention to me. I lifted my wrist for him to attach the snowflake in its place. He made quick work of it, all the frivolity draining out of him as though he’d sprung a leak. I wanted to ask what was wrong. I needed to know that this was about Fallon and not something bigger. I wasn’t here for the competition. I was here for him. Worries about his father, his timeline, his own health billowed up in my mind, but I kept my lips pressed together.
“And there you have it!” Corbin stepped forward, stealing the spotlight, confirming again that the American contender didn’t warrant airtime. “Your top nine, Nolcovia. Join us again in three days for the next live…”
Fitz hadn’t released my hand. In fact, his grip tightened, as if to pull me closer. As his thumb grazed my knuckles, Corbin’s voice faded away. I glanced up, locking eyes with my best friend in the world. But once again, I was struck with how much we’d changed since our early years.
We weren’t kids anymore. When he held my hand, it wasn’t as simple as it used to be. My heart fluttered with anticipation as he took another pass, dragging his thumb slower this time, deliberate, gaze locked on mine as if he needed to see my reaction.
The world churned to life around us, the broadcast ended, winners had been selected, but we hadn’t moved. The sadness lingered in his eyes, and I ached to throw my arms around him and hug him tight until everything made sense again. His stare dropped to our joined hands. As though he realized his mistake, finger by finger, he released his grip. As our final connection pulled apart, his whisper was meant only for me.
“What would I do without you, Coco?”
And without another word, he turned and left.
Michaela
Ipaced my room, hands wringing, mind racing, Christmas music playing. Normally it calmed me, but Carol of the Bells hit differently when a girl was trying to psych herself up to do something crazy.
Once I came back to my room, I couldn’t find peace. I kept thinking of the way they’d deserted him, more concerned with the king than the prince who’d been threatened moments before. Was that normal for him? Who took care of Fitz?
In a way, that had always felt like my job. Our letters gave him a place to speak his mind and he had, quite frequently. Knowing what I now knew, that those letters were low-key illegal, it made even more sense that he could tell me anything and still feel safe.
I used to get the letters, feel his anguish, and ache to be at his side. Obviously, an ocean away, I couldn’t. But this time it was different. This time, I was one secret tunnel away from him. He needed me and I literally had a passageway.
But there had to be some law about sneaking in the back door to the prince’s bedroom, and I really didn’t want to end up in the tower or the dungeon.
My mind went back to the moment he nearly shattered, hands clenched around his head as if he couldn’t silence the taunting in his mind.
He needed me.
In my teal pajamas, I made my way over to the bookcase. I didn’t have to go into his room. It was entirely possible that he wasn’t even there. With a little peek, I could see if Fitz was okay.
My fingers gripped the bronze frog and pushed, releasing the mechanism that would open the hidden corridor.
Fitz needed me.
Nothing else mattered.
