To Steal a Prince Page 6

  The king gives the barest of nods.

  Nic guides me to the door. “Now go.”

  Doing my best to ignore the many stares, I run across the hall. Once I’m out of sight of the table, I duck behind a pillar to take off my heels.

  “Grace?” Damon steps through the door. Is he really coming after me? I peek around the pillar. Yes, his eyes scan the hall.

  “Son. A word?” The king puts his hand on Damon’s shoulder. I withdraw behind the pillar.

  “What do you want?” The prince’s voice is low and harsh. “You’re the one who drilled me in etiquette for years. You must have skipped the part on how to properly shame your child’s guest.”

  “Most guests don’t cost this city millions. You can tell the police any story you want, but they still report to me.”

  “I’m sorry about the car. She is too. It’s only money, Father.”

  “For now. That girl is trouble.”

  I don’t want to hear any more of this. I slip out of the hall, walking as fast as I can without attracting odd glances. I like Damon, but why does his family have to be so cold? Are they worried I’ll corrupt him or something? It’s not like I want to marry him. I don’t even want to be here much longer.

  I’m so tired that it’s hard to keep a placid expression on my face for passersby. The relief I feel when I reach my blue door makes me dizzy. I can sleep here one last time, then leave in the morning.

  I step into my room, the only place of sanctuary available to me.

  “Back so soon?”

  Eris is still here. Oh no.

  “I’m just tidying up. I’ll be out of your hair shortly.”

  I can’t help it. I burst into tears.

  “Miss? Oh, please don’t cry.”

  My shoulders shake as tears run down my face. I gasp, barely able to breathe.

  “My lady, er, Grace, I really didn’t mean it. I just thought it would be funny. Here, come sit on the bed.”

  She leads me there, which is nice since I can’t see a thing. I sink into the mattress. This is a great way to end the night, at my most vulnerable in front of someone who despises me.

  “Here, have a glass of water.” She pushes it into my hand. The unexpected kindness only makes me cry harder.

  “Miss, please. People do worse things in this court than bow wrong. They do them every day. No one’s even going to remember this tomorrow.” She dabs my face with a handkerchief.

  “It’s not that.” I take the proffered handkerchief and blow my nose violently.

  “It’s not?”

  “No. That was fine. Ridiculous, but fine.”

  “What is it then?”

  I hold back a sob. “They don’t like me.”

  “Who? The king and all them?”

  I nod.

  “Of course they don’t. If they did, then you’d have a real problem.”

  This manages to make me smile.

  “Rest here awhile,” Eris says. “Things’ll be better in the morning. If you still think it’s important that they like you then, we’ll find someone who can teach you how to be snotty and stuffy.” She wheels her cart toward the door.

  “At least I looked nice through it all, thanks to you.”

  “No need to thank me, Lady. That’s what I’m here for.” She shuts the door firmly behind her.

  Lying back on the bed, I try to relax. It’s mostly useless. I’m not sure I could face Damon again after dinner tonight.

  There’s a knock on the door. Reluctantly, I get out of bed to answer.

  “Did you forget somethi—”

  Damon’s standing there. “No, but you forgot your dinner. I brought you some.” He holds out a covered tray.

  “I’m not really hungry right now.”

  Ignoring my protest, Damon strides across the room. He presses a panel in the wall, and it slides over to reveal a fridge and microwave. “I’ll leave it here just in case.” The panel slides back.

  “Thanks.” I’m not sure what else to say. I only hope that my face isn’t still puffy and red from crying. I can stand being vulnerable, but that doesn’t mean other people have to see it.

  Damon leans against the wall, looking uncertain. I know that look. He’s weighing his father’s words, and finding them to have merit. And they do, of course. He’s crazy to let someone like me stay here.

  I’m not keen on dragging this out. “I can leave tomorrow. Or tonight, if you want. I probably need to call a cab, though.”

  “We have our own drivers. And I don’t want you to leave at all.” He comes closer, until we almost touch. Damon starts to reach out, then clasps his hands behind his back. “One lousy dinner isn’t enough to drive you off, is it? Is the girl who stole my car really worried about what my father thinks of her?”

  I study the tile floor carefully. “To be fair, I feel worse about wrecking it than stealing it. What would the king think about that?”

  “Let me tell you a secret. My father rarely approves of anyone, myself included. You just gave him reason to disapprove more quickly than most.” He sets warm fingers under my chin, encouraging me to look at him. His eyes are warm too, but they don’t meet mine. Instead, they linger on my lips. Is he going to try to kiss me again? He leans in the slightest bit…

  “Is it still hurting?” He touches his own lip at the spot where mine is split. “I’m very sorry.”

  I rock back on my heels. I’m glad I didn’t meet his lips with mine. That would have been the perfect cherry on top of this embarrassment sundae.

  “I’ve had worse.” I try to pull myself together. “Besides, I did it to myself.”

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “Did you know that you look lovely this evening?”

  “Even with my lip?”

  “Especially with your lip. It adds character.” He takes my hand, raising it above my head. “Spin for me.”

  I can’t say no when his eyes gleam like that. Trying not to blush, I slowly turn on one heel.

  “Beautiful.” The prince pulls me back to him. “Your dress really brings out your eyes.”

  “Really?” I’ve had men catcall me before, but no one’s ever said anything about my eyes.

  He smiles. “Walk with me?”

  I hesitate. Damon’s presence is magnetic, and I don’t want to leave his side. His body is taut next to mine, and I want to stay here as long as I can, basking in his presence. But I’ve already caused him enough trouble.

  “I’m not really up for any more adventures tonight.”

  “A leisurely stroll isn’t much of an adventure.” His pained expression melts my resolve. I thought I was the con artist. How can he bend my will so easily?

  “Fine,” I tell him. “A short walk. No cars or bodyguards involved.”

  His face brightens instantly. “I know just the place.” Beckoning me to follow, Damon walks onto the balcony. He leads me down a short spiral staircase, then onto a lit pathway. Judging by the high walls all around, we’re in the palace’s vast courtyard. The path branches many times, leading to courtyards within courtyards. We pass hedges, statues, fountains.

  I’m glad Damon knows where he’s going, because the path becomes a maze. My feet are getting sore. We head toward the center of the courtyard. I hope we won’t go much farther. I’m not sure I could find my way back.

  “Here we are,” Damon whispers.

  Somehow, quiet words seem appropriate. This feels like a hushed place. Fireflies wink in and out of the dusk, lighting a sea of roses. Their scent washes over me, powerful and pure. It feels strong enough to wrap me up and bear me away.

  I pull one of the flowers toward me. Its plush petals glow white under the moon. The rose is heavy in my hand, and I wonder how the stem is strong enough to hold it up. Its beauty is more bewitching than any work of art. I’ve stolen enough to know.

  “Do you want it?” Damon asks.

  Letting the flower go, I shake my head.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. Cu
tting one of these would just be wrong somehow.”

  Damon holds out his arm, and I thread mine through his. Silently, we walk down the gravel path that spirals through the rose garden. I like it here. It’s peaceful and picturesque. I feel like no one can disturb us here in the garden’s heart, not with all the thorns protecting us.

  The prince looks at me. “Do you like it?”

  “I love it.”

  His smile is bittersweet. “It was my mother’s. She was always the one to tend it. Now no one’s allowed to step inside or touch the blooms, save the gardeners. And me.”

  I stop beside a bush of lilac-colored roses. “I’m confused. I thought I met your mother at dinner tonight.”

  Damon shakes his head. “That’s my stepmother. She insists on me calling her that for appearance’s sake. Marc is my half-brother, though you’d think he was heir to the throne the way Sarina carries on.” He waves a hand through the rose-scented air. “No matter. They’re not even here, I won’t let them bother us.”

  A firefly lands on his shoulder, blinking in the darkness.

  “Does your father ever come here?”

  “Not anymore. It’s too painful. Too many memories.”

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” I say softly.

  “Thank you. I wasn’t ready to lose her.” He exhales. “She wouldn’t want me to still be moping about. And she would be very upset to know that I was carrying on about her instead of paying attention to my lovely companion.”

  I take his hand in mine. “I don’t mind. Do you want to tell me more about her?”

  “She had the prettiest laugh. And told the most terrible jokes.” He lets out a deep laugh.

  “Tell me one.”

  “Well… Do you respect me?”

  I nod.

  “I’ll tell you one when that’s worn off a little.”

  “Hey!” I cuff him on the shoulder.

  He wags a finger at me. “That’s better, but you’ve still got a long way to go.” Damon pins me to his side, presumably so I can’t hit him again. “I’ve spent too much time talking about my family. I really want to learn more about you. You said you’re from California. How did you find yourself on our shores?”

  I hate talking about myself, but under his gaze I find the details spilling out. “I spent three semesters at USC, but it didn’t really work out. Even though I was broke, I wanted to travel the world. I got work on a cruise ship, washing dishes and serving food.” I don’t mention that I also made a pretty penny slipping watches and wallets off unsuspecting wealthy passengers.

  “How long did you do that?”

  “Just long enough to go through the Panama Canal and cross the ocean. I hopped off in Portugal. I made enough money to explore the coast, and I kept going until I ran out of cash.”

  “That happened here?”

  “Yes. I saved a man from being pickpocketed, and he offered me a place to stay until I got on my feet.”

  “Gabe?” Damon asks.

  I nod. Gabe had asked me how I saw the pickpockets when he hadn’t felt them strike. I never told him that I’d marked him as a target myself, and I don’t plan on telling Damon now.

  “It worked out pretty well. He gave me a couch, and I brought in whatever money I could. I still owe him about a year’s worth of rent, but I also saved his wallet two more times. He’s not the most vigilant person.”

  “And you are?”

  I turn my nose up haughtily. “I tend to be aware of my surroundings.”

  “How else would you know which cars still had keys in them?”

  I wish I could disappear into the rosebushes.

  “Don’t go.” Damon pulls me closer. “I’m just needling you. If you hadn’t crashed so spectacularly, I would have laughed at the time. It was all so surreal.”

  “Yeah. 4.8 million dollars’ worth of hilarity.”

  “Don’t feel bad. It’s only money.”

  I let go of his hand, sitting heavily on a bench. “It’s only money if you have some. There’s no way for me to ever pay you back.”

  “I don’t need you to pay me back.” He sits beside me, though he leaves me some space. “I have plenty of money. Other things are more important.”

  “Like what?” I glare at him, daring him to name one thing.

  “Like curtseying.” Leaping from the bench, he dips deeply.

  He completely breaks me from my foul mood. I can’t help but laugh at how solemn and regal his movements are.

  “Don’t laugh. You need to learn these.”

  I try not to giggle my way off the bench. “Why should I? I already have a signature move.”

  “Yes, but it makes you look ridiculous.” Damon daintily lifts an imaginary skirt.

  Now I really am in danger of falling. The prince comes to my aid, pulling me to my feet.

  “Watch me, Grace. It’s not hard. Now, this is how you curtsey to your monarchs.” He bends deeply at the knees, pulling an imaginary skirt slightly behind him.

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I watched the girls for hours in finishing school. Purely for academic purposes, of course.” He flashes a rakish grin. “Don’t bend as deeply when addressing the court. And place your feet like this when meeting a foreign dignitary.”

  I stomp my foot, refusing to be ladylike at this hour. “Why do I need to know all these?”

  “In case you want to retain your dignity.”

  “Even if I ever met a foreign dignitary, how am I supposed to remember which curtsey to use?”

  Damon bows. “I can remind you if necessary.”

  I have no reservations about rolling my eyes in the darkness. I’m sure he can’t see me. Damon seems determined to teach me useless etiquette, despite the fact that I’m not even a chambermaid. Does he really think I’m going to hang around the palace long enough to use a knowledge of curtsies? It’s not like I’m going to meet the King of Russia on my way out the door tomorrow.

  “You look tired,” Damon says, perhaps a polite way of telling me that he’s tired of my belligerence. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

  Arm in arm, we walk from the garden. The scent of roses fades, making me a little sad. It feels like I’m leaving a place of magic behind.

  The crushed shells of the pathway crunch under our feet. Damon slows as we reach my balcony, as if wanting to draw the night on a little longer.

  At last, we come to the stairs. “We’re here,” I say, gently reminding him that our walk is over.

  Damon lets go of my hands to reach into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a long-stemmed red rose. “Here. It reminded me of you.”

  I stare at him, wide-eyed. I never saw him pluck it. Stunned by his gift, I try to think of something appropriate to say.

  “This has thorns, you know.” I clap my hands over my mouth as soon as the words escape.

  “I told you it reminded me of you.” He laughs.

  I twirl the stem between my fingers. The blossom fills the air around us with its perfume. “What about your mother?”

  “She would have wanted you to have it.” Leaning in, he kisses me on the cheek. “Good night.”

  His lips make my skin tingle. I want to throw myself at him, to press my lips to his until we collapse. But he just winks at me before turning and walking into the darkness. I stare at his retreating back, his tailored suit tight in all the right places. I really regret that this is the last time I’m ever going to see him. The night swallows him, and all that’s left are the fireflies.

  Climbing the stairs, I grip the railing. The whole palace is opulent, too good to be true. Just like my hopes of having Damon. Kicking off my shoes, I fall into bed. I drift to sleep to the sound of the waterfall.

  6

  I wake to a grumbling stomach. Opening my eyes, I take in the silk hangings overhead. Oh right. I’m in the palace. If I weren’t so hungry, I could believe I was still dreaming.

  Forcing myself out of bed, I fumble for the panel Damon opened last night.
A tray chills in the fridge, and I whip off the silver cover. It’s a small chicken on a bed of greens. I tear off the drumsticks, ignoring the greens for now. It’s an odd breakfast, but it will have to do. I can’t ask Damon where to get food. He’d try to charm me into staying again.

  I’m hungry enough that I eat the legs cold. They’re smaller than I’m used to, and taste a little off. Maybe I’m actually eating a pheasant. That sounds like something rich people would eat. I’ve never even seen one.

  Satisfied with my meal, I set the tray back in the fridge. Reluctantly, I also return the heels I’ve been wearing to the closet. They gleam silver, making me wonder how many months of rent I could get for them. I shut the door firmly. I need to get out of the palace, and hopefully shake this newfound conscience.

  As I scoop up my bag, I notice the rose on the nightstand. It seems wrong to leave it to wilt. After a quick hunt through some drawers, I unearth a sea green glass jar. I fill it with water in the bathroom, then stick the rose in. The stem is too long for the jar, and the rose threatens to slip out. It doesn’t quite fit, a feeling I can relate to. Maybe it can hold on longer than I did.

  I walk from the room, feeling a pang of sadness as I close the blue door behind me. I’m going to miss the thrill of living in this place, the wonder of possibilities. And, if I’m being entirely honest, I’m going to miss Damon.

  The morning is already hot. A car idles by the steps. I recognize Rashad inside.

  “Lady Sparrow!” He steps out of the car. “Are you looking to go somewhere this morning?”

  I’m relieved to see a familiar face. “I want to go to the city center, but I don’t want to bother you.”

  He waves me off before I can ask about cabs. “I can take you.” Walking around to the passenger door, he opens it for me.

  “Are you sure?”

  Rashad gestures for me to enter. I do, not wanting to waste even more of his time arguing. We drive through the gate, leaving the palace and peacocks behind.

  The sun beats down on the city, warming roofs to a bright orange. Noise and traffic build as we wind our way into its heart. My shoulders relax. I definitely feel more comfortable here. I can blend in wherever I want, get lost in a crowd. No one could find me if I didn’t want them to follow. If I do everything right, no one will even notice me.