Page 31 of Once Upon a Royal Summer
“It does, doesn’t it?” Lacey nodded.
A few years ago, the park had even had all the carousel horses restored by a special preservationist. Before the ride had found its home at Once Upon A Time, it’d been an attraction at one of the oldest state fairs in the country. When the theme park had opened, it purchased the carousel and had it moved from New England all the way to Florida. The graceful horses that bobbed up and down on the carousel’s brass poles had been carved from smooth mahogany way back in the early 1900s. They were gorgeous—hand-painted with painstaking, whimsical details and buffed until they shone like sparkly bits of confetti.
Best of all—they were completely non-threatening.
“Ava, you’re a genius.” Lacey clinked her wine glass against her friend’s. “You’ve just given me an idea for the perfect way to end Rose and Henry’s trip.”
If she was going to have to say goodbye, she could at least do it in fanciful-theme-park-princess style.
Rain beat down on the windows in Henry’s suite at the Ritz-Carlton. The leafy palm trees that surrounded the hotel’s infinity pool overlooking the Atlantic Ocean fluttered madly in the wind. Every few minutes, swollen gray clouds boomed, and flashes of lightning stretched from sky to sea.
Lacey had warned him Florida was known for its summer thunderstorms—a function of the state being surrounded by water on almost every side. The rain had started up mere minutes after their Ferris wheel ride, once again preventing Rose from seeing Once Upon A Time’s nightly fireworks display.
She still has one more chance, Henry thought as another boom of thunder rattled the windows.
Dramatic rainstorms were almost unheard of in Bella-Moritz, outside the French Riviera’s tropical cyclone season. The weather was usually mild in Henry’s modest little kingdom, in keeping with the principality’s reputation as a picturesque summer paradise. Bella-Moritz was best known for its rocky, jagged cliffs overlooking vivid turquoise waters dotted with houseboats and its charming, hillside pastel cottages. Like Florida, it boasted an abundant amount of palm trees. They lined either side of the wide avenue that stretched from Grand Flower Park to the palace. On the night of the royal ball, twinkle lights were strung from palm tree to palm tree, crisscrossing their way to the castle.
Henry watched the storm churn the deep blue sea, feeling every bit as tossed about as the lawn furniture on the deck of the infinity pool.
Tomorrow was their last day, which would’ve been fine, if not for the fact that a certain phrase from Rose’s bedtime story keep dancing through Henry’s thoughts.
So the prince returned to his kingdom with a heavy heart…
His jaw clenched. Why was he letting a children’s book mess with his head so much?
“Daddy, it’s not going to rain tomorrow, is it?” Rose said, blinking at the scene outside the window with concern etched in her dainty features.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. Tomorrow is supposed to be bright and sunny all day long.” Henry lifted his daughter into his arms and squeezed her tight. Fresh from yet another bubble bath, she was dressed in her Sweet Pea pajamas again and had a book pressed to her chest. He knew without asking exactly which storybook it was. “You’re not worried about missing out on your last day at the park, are you?”
She nodded, and her damp hair brushed against Henry’s cheek.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t you worry. We have another fun day planned, and we won’t let anything stop it. Our trip isn’t over.”
Yet.
Rose yawned and rubbed at her eyes with her free hand.
“It looks like someone is ready for bed,” Henry said as he set her back down.
The toes of her bare feet wiggled, and she held the book out toward him. “Can you read more of the story to me? Please?”
“Absolutely.”
Henry tucked the book under his arm and followed Rose as she dashed toward the big bed where she’d been sleeping during their stay. Her bedroom in the suite was situated directly opposite Henry’s. If he was really still, he could sometimes hear her at night, shifting beneath the covers or breathing softly in her sleep. It was such a stark contract to the palace, with its expansive hallways and thick, heavy walls.
He liked being close to his daughter like this. He told himself it was because he wanted Rose to feel a little bit less isolated, less lonely. But sometimes he wondered if he was the one who missed having someone he loved so near.
“Do you remember where we left off?” he asked as he settled beside Rose on the downy white duvet and she rested her head against his shoulder.
Rose flipped through the book until she landed on the page with the illustration of the forlorn prince, back in his lonely castle after his fruitless search for the perfect princess to marry.
“Right. That’s the one,” Henry said, sighing. “Let’s see what happens next.” He turned the page. “One night, a terrifying storm settled upon the kingdom. Lightning crackled in the sky, and dark clouds poured buckets of rain onto the royal castle.”
Henry glanced at the windows overlooking the choppy sea. Thunder rolled in the distance while Rose flipped to the next page. He reminded himself—again—that the story was only a fairy tale, not any sort of commentary on his personal life. But he could’ve done without the more striking similarities.
He continued reading. A princess showed up at the castle in the middle of the rainstorm, because of course she did. The royal household invited her inside, even though she looked more like a drowned rat than royalty. The prince took an immediate liking to the dripping-wet stranger, but the queen wanted to make sure she was indeed a “real” princess.
“Look, she put a pea in the princess’s bed.” Rose pointed to a drawing of a tiny pea being placed on the mattress.
