Page 53 of Some Like It Royal

She’d called Victor to meet her at the dress shop after she took the time to get her hair done. All that was left were her cosmetics and she still had an hour before she was due at the grand duke’s hotel.

Victor snapped his fingers and the two women who’d been assisting him stepped out of the room. Closing the door, he leaned back against it and folded his arms. “No, it is important. You’ve been crying on and off for hours. Your eyes are puffy, your nose is red and your voice is thick with the clog of tears. I cannot help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

As if to illustrate his point, she grabbed some tissue and turned away to blow her nose. “There’s nothing you can do, except maybe help me fix this bride-of-Frankenstein face.”

“Princess.” It must have been her imagination, but the cool brisk tones of her acting coach softened with gentle sympathy. The tears leaked out all over again.

“Don’t do that.” She sniffled.

“Do what?” He looked genuinely baffled.

“Be nice. Don’t be nice.” She pressed the tissue to her nose and turned around to face him. “Tell me to put my chin up and my shoulders back. Remind me that posture is important and that my tone of voice should always indicate interest no matter how dreadful the conversation. When I am outside this room, I am always on display and no one is to be trusted, not even my closest advisors, because royal stories sell whether I’m a real royal or not.”

A brief smile touched his lips. “Why should I have to remind you, Princess? The student has become the master. It has shown in every image taken of you. You walk with grace, you speak with poise and now, amidst all these dreadful tears, you stand as if you should be noticed.”

A watery laugh bubbled up. “That’s not helping either.” She dabbed at her eyes and fanned her face. She was so hot. Her cheeks blazed with it and her eyes burned. She was a dreadful crier and her red nose felt twice its normal size.

“Talk to me about it. Let out what is eating your soul apart inside. Perhaps it is not as bad as you think it is.” The cool, practical teacher was back, but the empathy in his eyes begged her to tell him everything.

“I shouldn’t gossip with the staff.” She sniffled and then chuckled.

“True. For the next—” he glanced at his watch, “—twenty minutes, I quit. I am no longer in your employ. I am merely a man who once taught you and would very much like to be your friend.”

“Really?” Did he mean it or was this just another acting lesson?

“Absolutely. So tell me,Alyx—” he emphasized her name, “—what’s wrong?”

Blowing out a breath, she dabbed at her eyes again. “The grand duke sent me a necklace with my family crest on it. He sent it via an old friend of his—I’m assuming that has some meaning, because you know, you don’t ask your friends to look up pretenders to the family and deliver a royal crest on an exquisite piece of jewelry.”

“No, that definitely has meaning.” Victor checked the door lock, then walked across the room to run a washcloth under cold water.

“So that kind of has me nervous about actually meeting him tonight. Mr. Prentiss said that I was the spitting image of our great-grandmother. It’s why the grand duke accepted me as a family member without meeting me.” She glanced down at the necklace nestled in the black velvet box on the vanity of the dressing room they’d taken over.

Victor crossed back over to her and plucked the tissue from her hands and replaced it with the cold cloth. One hand on her shoulder, he guided her over to the settee and nodded to it. “Sit—put that over your eyes and let’s see if we can get the swelling out.”

“My dress,” she protested. Yet another lesson he’d hammered home. When dressed for the evening, avoid sitting as much as possible to minimize the lines and wrinkles marring the outfit.

“We can take care of it. Sit.” He glared at her until she did as he ordered and pressed the cold cloth to her overheated eyes. She wanted to weep with relief. He arranged a pillow so she put her head all the way back, then moved away. The water turned on again. “Continue.”

“Why do you think there’s more?” She didn’t want to confess everything. Feeling a fool was one thing, admitting it something else. After all, she’d been born in the real world where there were real consequences for stupid actions.

“Because the grand duke’s gesture of friendship and family is hardly worth crying yourself sick, no matter how shocking you may find it. Foster care taught you to retreat from close ties. I understand that and eventually, the grand duke will as well, but this is a reason to celebrate. Perhaps weep a little for the previously lost chances, but not sob as though your heart is broken.”

She peeled the washcloth away from her eyes to peer at him. Victor returned with a fresh cold cloth and traded them out.

“So tell me. Why are you crying, Alyx?”

“I fell in love with him. He’s wonderful. He’s funny. He’s kind. He’s generous.” The words spilled out in a rush and Victor wavered beyond the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to love him. I wasn’t supposed to believe we could have something. It was all a masquerade, a charade to get his business deal.” Saying it out loud made her feel worse than foolish. “He never lied to me, Victor. He never told me that he wanted a real affair. He was plain as day when he propositioned me and I understood the terms of the contract. I said no sex and then I had sex with him.”

“I see.” Victor cleared his throat.

She laughed, a wheezing noise, and lifted her hand, palm up. “A lot of sex, and I knew—from that very first kiss this was a bad idea?—”

“Why?” he interrupted. “Why is it a bad idea?”

Pulling the cloth away, she stared at him. “He kissed me because you told him to.”

“No.” Victor shook his head slowly. “He kissed you because he wanted to. He protected you because he wanted to do that as well. I just gave him the excuse he was looking for.”

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