Page 27 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
He glanced around. “Hear what, exactly?” They were surrounded by all manner of sounds and unique noises that made up the very specific soundtrack of a theme park—the clanging of ride chains, the whoosh of rollercoasters, happy screams, lilting music streaming from speakers overhead and, above all, laughter. He had no idea which one she could possibly be referring to.
“That chirping sound.” Lacey’s brow knitted, then she bent down to inspect a small grassy area beside the spot where they were standing.
Rose followed her, of course, imitating Lacey’s exact posturing. “Look!” His daughter pointed a finger toward a tiny, squirming, feathery lump in the lush green grass. “It’s a bird.”
Lacey gasped. “A hummingbird! See its long, narrow beak. It looks like a needle.”
Henry and Ian exchanged a glance. Was this real, or some sort of the theme park magic? Henry honestly didn’t know.
He crouched down beside Rose for a closer look. It was a hummingbird, all right—a real one, with green feathers and cherry-red coloring on its throat.
“He’s got something stuck on one of his wings.” Lacey pointed to a tiny wad of pink at the tip of the bird’s feathers.
“I think it might be gum,” Ian said.
“Oh, no.” Rose peered up at Lacey. “We should help him.”
“Of course we should,” Lacey said. Then she dropped to her knees, and her ballgown puffed up around her like frosting on a cupcake.
A crowd began gathering around them. Henry’s body tensed. He kept his head down and pulled his baseball cap low over his eyes.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Ian murmured, barely loud enough for Henry to hear him. “They’re not here for you. They’re here for her.”
Henry glanced over his shoulder. Ian was right. Every set of eyes in the vicinity was trained on Lacey, awestruck by her handling of the delicate bird. She gently went to work disentangling the gum from short blades of grass until she was able to cradle the tiny creature in the palms of her hands.
Henry couldn’t tear his gaze away from her graceful hands. The tenderness in her touch made his throat grow thick.
“Here, can you hold him while I the gum off his wing?” Lacey angled her head toward Henry as if asking him to hold onto a hummingbird was an everyday occurrence.
He held out his hand. “Of course.”
The colorful bird was as light as air, and Henry held his breath, worried about hurting the little guy. But his new feathered friend stayed perfectly still, tiny black eyes fixed on Henry’s.
“He’s so cute,” Rose whispered.
“Isn’t he, though?” Lacey said, gently prying the bits of chewing gum from the bird’s wing. “Let’s see if he’s good to fly again, and if not, we can take him to the first aid station and see about getting him to a veterinarian.”
Once free, the hummingbird rolled to his feet, blinked, and then sprang from Henry’s outstretched hand, flying in a buzzy loop de loop over their heads before disappearing.
Lacey stood and shielded her eyes with her hands, looking up into the sky as Rose cheered.
“Wow,” Ian said.
“That was—” Henry paused, swallowing. “That was really something.”
“Like I said.” Lacey grinned at him over her shoulder. “Always make friends with birds and butterflies.”
Henry’s heart leaped inside his chest.
Who was this woman? And where did the make-believe character end and the real Lacey begin?
Shortly after the impromptu hummingbird rescue, Henry found himself strapped into a hollowed-out log with Ian situated behind him and Rose and Lacey seated directly in front of him.
As the log meandered slowly down a stream of impossibly bright turquoise water, Henry’s gaze kept shifting from the banks of the meadow on either side of the log to the back of Lacey’s head. Her buttery-blond hair was fashioned in its usual updo, swept off her graceful neck with soft tendrils framing her face. One of the pins holding her enormous crown in place was poking out just a little, and Henry had the completely inappropriate urge to tuck it back into place.
He balled his hands into fists in his lap to keep himself from doing so. He’d already almost held her hand in plain view of everyone on Jack’s beanstalk—just the sort of mistake he knew better than to make. He wasn’t sure what had come over him all of a sudden or when exactly he’d begun to consider Lacey more of a friend than someone who’d been ordered to be his companion for the duration of his stay in America. All Henry knew was that her story about why she’d become Princess Sweet Pea had moved him and made him feel things he hadn’t known he was capable of anymore.
You’re a prince. You can’t be attracted to a woman who, for all practical purposes, is in your employ.
