Page 49 of Roaming Holiday

I shove my feet into slippers and check the time. 7:13. My eyes are still heavy from exhaustion. I poke my head outside my room, expecting to listen for any sign of life downstairs, but I jump at the strange man in Wesley’s spot. He has sandy hair, thick brows, and a lean build.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Silas.”

“Where’s Wesley?”

“He is sleeping in that room, Your Highness,” Silas replies in a strong accent, nodding to the room across the hall where the door lies cracked open. Of course. Did I expect him to stay awake forever? He needs rest.

“How long has he been asleep?” I ask, my voice suddenly quieter.

“I take over his spot for three hours.”

“Okay. Don’t wake him up.”

“He instructed me to wake him when you do.”

“Well, don’t. Let him sleep.”

Silas hesitates. He opens his mouth to speak, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I must do as he says.”

If I was him, I’d be frightened to disobey Wesley, too. He was fiercely protective last night. But not everything is up to him, and Silas should be more concerned about my wrath if he doesn’t let Wesley sleep.

I lean closer. “Silas, do not wake him up unless you want me to make your life a living hell.”

Do I know how I would do that? No, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. He stiffens, considers for a moment, then nods. “Understood, madam.”

Downstairs, I ask Dora in Maldanian if she could bring me a cup of coffee. She doesn’t stare at my neck like the other hotel employees. Dora brings me coffee with a slice of warm tora di pomke once I settle on a lounge chair under the shade.

“For you,” she says.

“Oh—gracea mucho, Dora.”

“Parafóré.”

I’ve been receiving special treatment ever since I arrived here, but Dora brought me this pastry out of pity. There are worse things than pity cake, I suppose. I spend the next ten minutes in the silence of the garden until Maia joins me. She doesn’t ask how I feel, thankfully.

“Where’s Beck?”

I sip my coffee. “Sleeping. I told the other guy not to wake him.”

“Dad and Ruby are on their way back. They didn’t find out what happened until they woke up this morning.”

I hadn’t even considered my parents over the last twelve hours. It’s a good thing Dad wasn’t here; he would’ve been overbearing and worsened my anxiety.

Dora walks outside, her shoulders tense and face struck. “Uh—Prince Jason and Princess Vanessa are here to see you.”

Her shock is endearing; I can only imagine her reaction when she learns out I’m royal, too. My cousins walk outside.

“Gracea, Dora.”

I sit up on the lounge chair as Vanessa lowers onto the edge. Jace pulls up another seat.

“How do you feel?” Vanessa asks, almost hesitant.

I clear my throat, trying to hide the aching wince. “Like someone tried to choke the life out of me.”

She falls quiet and glances at Jace, who leans his elbows on his knees.

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