Page 23 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
Lacey nodded. “Like her dad.”
Waves lapped at the sugary white shore, and close to the water’s edge, a family built a sandcastle together. Colorful buckets and tiny plastic rakes lay scattered on the sand beside a young boy pressing seashells into the castle walls—cat’s paws, scallop shells and bleached white sand dollars. A man who Lacey guessed was the boy’s father dug a moat while two small girls filled buckets with sea water. The mother dripped wet sand from her loose fist into a tall, drippy turret.
Caught up in the nostalgia of their beach tableau, Lacey didn’t even notice Ava studying her until she gave Lacey a gentle shoulder bump.
“Wait a minute. You like him,” Ava said.
“Of course I do. I said he was nice.”
“No.” Ava shook her head, grinning from ear to ear. “I mean you like him.”
“What?” Lacey’s stomach churned. “That’s crazy.”
“No, it’s not. It makes perfect sense, actually. He’s a prince and you’re a—”
Lacey held up her hand. “Don’t say it. I’m not a princess. I work at a theme park, same as you. I don’t belong in a castle any more than you belong in a forest village plagued by wolves.”
Ava tightened her ponytail. The breeze was really picking up, like it always did on summer evenings at the beach. “Fine. You’re not royal. You’re unroyal, but you can still like Prince Henry. It’s not against the law or anything.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is common,” Lacey said. “I’m a commoner.”
Ava’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, hon. You’re anything but common.”
The churning in Lacey’s stomach calmed just a little bit. “You know what I mean. I can’t like Prince Henry—not in that way. Besides, I’m taking a break from dating, remember?”
This entire conversation was ridiculous. Had she just mentioned Prince Henry and dating in the same breath?
Ava sighed, clearly unconvinced. At the shoreline, high tide rolled in, sending foamy waves crashing over the family’s carefully built sandcastle. In a matter of seconds, it was nothing but a muddy mound of sand littered with seashells.
“I can’t like Prince Henry,” Lacey repeated. “And I don’t.”
Maybe if she said it enough times, she’d believe it.
Henry stood on the balcony of his suite of rooms at the Ritz-Carlton and watched the sun disappear into the horizon. It looked as though it were melting right into the bright-blue layers of the sea, gilding the crests of the waves with shimmering gold light.
Simon Dole had offered Henry and his guests the use of a special, private suite in the Ever After Castle on Once Upon A Time’s premises, but Henry had politely declined. Ian had security concerns about staying on park property twenty-four seven, and Henry thought Rose might like to spend some time at the beach while they were in America. Like most of the coastline near the French Riviera, Bella-Moritz’s beaches were covered in small pebbles instead of sand. Not so in Florida. The beach beyond Henry’s terrace looked like an upturned bowl of sugar—fine white sand as far as the eye could see.
After their first full day at the park, they’d come back to the hotel and eaten room service on the balcony—a traditional American cheeseburger for Henry and chicken tenders shaped like stars for Rose, a delicacy she never would’ve had the opportunity to enjoy back in the palace.
Henry smiled to himself as he gathered the plates and silverware and piled them back on top of the room service tray. His feet ached from walking around the park all day. He had no idea how Lacey did it in faux glass slippers. But it had been a good day—no, a great day. Over dinner, Rose had mentioned her cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
“I’m ready for bed, Daddy,” she said as she padded onto the terrace in her new Princess Sweet Pea pajamas and comically oversized hotel bathrobe, trailing behind her like the train on a queen’s coronation mantle.
Henry bent to press a kiss to the top of her little head. She smelled like fresh soap and no-tears shampoo, which made his heart twist for some strange reason. “Good night and pleasant dreams, sweetheart.”
“Good night, Daddy.” She let out a wide yawn and turned to go back inside, a storybook dangling from her fingertips.
Henry paused for a beat and then followed. At the palace, he was often still in governmental meetings or attending royal social engagements this time of night. Most evenings, when he went to bid Rose goodnight, he either found her fast asleep or struggling to keep her eyes open so she wouldn’t miss her bedtime kiss. “How about I read you that story?” he said, gesturing toward the slender book in her hands as she crawled onto one of the beds in their vast suite.
“Yes, please!” She hugged the book to her chest. “It’s new. Princess Sweet Pea gave it to me for my birthday.”
“Did she, now?” Henry had seen Princess Sweet Pea slip a flat, wrapped package into Rose’s hands as they’d been leaving the park earlier, but at the time, Simon Dole had been busy shaking Henry’s hand and checking to be sure they’d had a wonderful day in the Land Where Fairy Tales Come True.
Rose pointed at each word in the book’s title and read it aloud. “The…Princess…and…the…Pea.”
Henry felt himself smile.
Of course. What else would it be?
