Page 19 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
Still, it would’ve been really great if he’d stuck a name tag to his innocent-looking athleisurewear. Hello, My Name Is Prince Henry of Bella-Moritz, so maybe refrain from making silly royal jokes. You’ll only end up embarrassing yourself.
“Skulking around beneath a baseball cap and pretending to be someone you’re not isn’t technically lying, princess.” He flashed her a wink.
Her stomach did a fluttery little flip-flop. Lacey wished she could blame it on the motion of the sleigh, but the Snow Queen ride was one of the tamer attractions at Once Upon A Time.
“So you admit you were skulking,” she heard herself say.
Did Bella-Moritz have a tower, like the one in London? If so, Lacey was definitely going to end up imprisoned there.
The sleigh pulled away from the blue spruce forest into a darkened tunnel as it made its way inside the mountain. A rush of cool air washed over Lacey, and goosebumps broke out over every inch of exposed skin from the sweetheart neckline of her ballgown.
“No more skulking. You have my word,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper in the darkness.
Lacey snuck a glance at him. She could just make out his profile against the interior of the mountain tunnel, frosted with crushed crystals and faux pearls, and again, the moment felt strangely intimate, like when they’d waltzed together in the ballroom.
She drew in a shaky breath and faced forward. Their sleigh was approaching a hollowed-out cave where two animatronic reindeer pawed at the snow and tossed their huge heads against a backdrop of aquamarine gemstones and stalactites, hanging from the ceiling like snowy chandeliers. “I supposed skulking is indeed out of the question now,” Lacey said.
Henry was dressed slightly more regal today in a pressed linen button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of tailored khaki trousers—high fashion for a theme park. Most guests wore shorts, but perhaps there was a rule against exposing his royal kneecaps.
“I just wanted to give my daughter an hour as a regular person before word got out that we were here. I wasn’t trying to deceive you.” He turned toward her in the darkness, and Lacey could hear the bittersweet smile in his voice.
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Your—” Lacey had to bite her tongue to stop herself from using his title. “It’s your vacation. You have every right to spend it as you please.”
“I found your tea party quite charming. Let me guess—it seemed like I was mocking you.”
“A little bit, yes,” she admitted, instantly feeling acutely vulnerable. She stared hard down the dark tunnel in front of them. “But I might have overreacted. I’ve been a tiny bit out of sorts lately.” Why, oh why was she being so honest with him? She was supposed to be playing a fairy tale character, not baring her soul.
“Can I ask why?” he said, sounding impossibly tender against the piped-in howling wind noises that had just begun swirling through the ride.
Lacey could feel her pulse in her throat all of a sudden. She took a deep breath and hoped he didn’t notice that the gentle tone of his voice had just made her go all soft inside. “It’s nothing, really. Not even worth talking about.” No way was she going to tell him about her recent break-up. He was a royal prince, not her BFF. She already had one of those.
“Fair enough, but can I ask you one last thing?”
They’d reached the part of the Snow Queen’s Mountain Sleigh Ride where huge crystal snowflakes hung from the ceiling, and the wind gave way to distant yodeling. Soon they’d come upon a shaggy animatronic St. Bernard perched atop a snowy cliff—the last thing they’d see before the sleigh exited the mountain tunnel and plunged them back into the Florida sunlight.
“Probably. That depends on what the question is,” Lacey said.
The St. Bernard came into view, looming over them with a brandy keg fastened to his neck as snow made from foam drifted down from the ceiling.
“What’s your real name?” Henry turned toward her with delicate snowflakes dotting his hair as they made their way toward the light.
Warmth spread through her, as if she’d been sipping from the St. Bernard’s keg.
She couldn’t tell Henry her name. Doing so would break every rule in the theme park princess handbook. He was a guest, and she was Princess Sweet Pea. Period.
But he’d asked her to call him Henry, and they were about to spend the next four days together. Was she really supposed to expect him to address her as princess that entire time? And technically, wasn’t she supposed to be catering to his every whim? Even the ones that broke the rules?
“It’s Lacey,” she heard herself say. “But I’m not supposed to tell you that, so it has to stay our secret.”
The sleigh slowed to a stop, their journey through the magic winter wonderland officially over. Ian and Rose stood on the platform, waiting for Lacey and Henry to climb out of the sled and accompany them on their next adventure.
“Your secret is safe with me, Lacey,” Henry said.
Then he climbed out of the sleigh and offered her his hand, as if she were descending the steps of Cinderella’s grand coach instead of a mechanical sleigh at the base of a mountain made of glass and steel.
Lacey placed her hand in his and reminded herself that even though the prince in this land of make-believe might be real, everything else was still just pretend.
Henry’s seatmate for the remainder of the day was Ian. Rose practically glued herself to Lacey’s side, and Henry had to admit they looked awfully cute together in their matching cotton candy ballgowns. He snapped a sweet picture of them together in front of the glittering Ever After Castle, and in a moment of rare familial sentimentality, he texted it to his mother. But the second after he pressed send, an email popped up on his phone from her private secretary.
