Page 21 of The King's Fake Bride

“You sit down, then. The first coffee is on the house.” The woman smiles and grabs a white mug, starting a shot of espresso. “I’m Beatriz. Moved here from Brazil nearly thirty years ago to be with my husband. He’s passed away now, but this is home.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I select one of the little blue tables by the counter, sitting down on the cushioned chair. “I’m so sorry about your husband.”

She clicks her tongue. “It was a long time ago now, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave once he passed. Going back to Brazil didn’t seem like an option when we made lives for ourselves here.”

“I still don’t know if moving here is the right choice.” I smile my thanks as she rounds the counter with the cup of coffee and sits down across from me. She puts a little plate of pastries in front of us, the fruit on top shiny and inviting.

“Why do you say that?”

I grab one of the pastries, nibbling at the flaky crust. “I think I’m making the right choice most of the time. Everything seems great, but there’s the little voice in the back of my mind that says leaving New Jersey is insane and I probably should go back home to my normal life.”

“What is normal?” She grabs the other pastry and takes a large bite, catching a piece of strawberry that drops. “Life is too short to worry about doing the right thing. You should just think about doing the right thing for you.”

“How do you know what that is?” I take a larger bite, moaning as the strawberry hits my tongue.

“It’s more of something you feel than something you know.” One side of her mouth crooks, showing off the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “We were given intuition for a reason.”

“I think mine might be broken.”

Beatriz laughs. “Give it time. Katastinia is a beautiful country, and there is much to see here. You should take a castle tour. They offer them every weekend.”

Little does she know that the castle is my new home for the next nine hundred and eleven days.

“Are the royal family nice?” I ask, even though I know I shouldn’t be prying for information.

I’m curious about Xander, though. The answers he did give me the other night were vague at best.

“The new king is young. He seems like he’s trying to do right by the country, but the truth is that Xander wasn’t raised to be king. He was supposed to have an easy life. One that involved all the money of the crown but without the responsibility.”

“And what about his parents?”

“His mother, the queen, she died unexpectedly a few years ago. The king’s health deteriorated quickly after that, and he passed just a few months later. Yorgos took over, and then when he died, Xander took the lead. It’s only been a few months — the boy has barely had time to grieve, never mind learn to rule — but the tabloids aren’t kind to him.”

“How bad is it?” I ask, already worrying about what those same tabloids are going to say about me.

I can see the stories now.AMERICAN MARRIES THE KING. COUNTRY HEADED FOR NATIONAL EMERGENCY.

It won’t take the people long to figure out that I don’t know the first thing about being a queen.

Beatriz crosses one leg over the other, her skirt kicking out around her foot. “It’s not good. They spend every moment they get trying to dig up information on Xander or his cousins. No matter what that poor boy does, it’s always the wrong thing to them.”

Forcing a smile, I take another sip of coffee. “It can’t be easy to wear the crown. I don’t think I could ever do it, if I was given the chance.”

“Thankfully, the average person will never have to see the inside of that castle and know what it’s like to rule from it.” She laughs and gets up as another customer enters the café. “Enjoy your coffee, and don’t be a stranger. I could use someone to talk to.”

“Thank you.” I smile and sip the coffee again, the warm notes of chocolate and cinnamon melting on my tongue.

I finish the coffee while watching the people coming and going from the café, all of them talking to each other and not even noticing my existence.

How much longer will that continue once the engagement announcement is made?

The little gold ring on my finger with the stunning oval diamond feels like it weighs a million pounds.

I take a deep breath and put my mug in the dirty dishes bin on the counter before heading for the door.

Passing several people, I head for the road back to the castle.

However, a magazine at a little stand on the side of the road catches my attention.

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