Page 2 of Engaged to the Mountain Man

He opens his mouth to continue his lecture but one of his attendants appears from the shadows. He bows before announcing Father has a call of great importance, adding it’s the one he was expecting.

Father stands and straightens his suit, scowling down at me the entire time. “Don’t overindulge on the pastries.”

I recognize a dismissal when I hear one, and I’m relieved that our monthly tea was cut short. I get to my feet and bow one final time before leaving the room without a backward glance.

* * *

“You have to go to him,”Violet says that night in my bedroom. All of my maids and attendants have been dismissed for the day.

“Go to who?” I fight a yawn as I comb my wet hair. I get my dark hair and eyes from my mother. I’ve seen pictures of her when she was my age. We could have been twins.

“Rafael. Bring him to the palace. He must take his place, so that you can take yours.” She pauses to set her tablet on my vanity table and pulls off the black frames she always wears. When she does, I realize how dark those circles are under her eyes.

“I don’t think I can kidnap him, even if he is my betrothed,” I joke to lighten the mood.

“Your father is ill,” she confesses.

Suddenly, her insistence on going to Rafael makes sense. There’s a law in Velkan. A stupid, archaic one that demands I wed before assuming the throne. If not, it passes to the next heir. My cousin, Nico.

Thinking about the man causes another wave of nausea. He’s a notorious womanizer despite being married to a sweet girl. He gambles exorbitant amounts of money, and he’s always at the latest nightclubs.

He’s not likely to grow up, even if he’s handed the kingdom. No, my cousin will destroy the country within a few years. He’ll create soaring national debt and make enemies of our closest allies.

But he’s been trying to win the hearts of our citizens and get their public support. He thinks that I don’t see what he’s doing. He’s trying to become the next leader, to show that he’s the king that cares for them. Except he doesn’t.

The moment he’s on the throne, he won’t concern himself with lowly matters like rising poverty among our elderly or underprivileged girls in dire need of better educational opportunities. All he’ll care about is chasing around the maid with the shortest skirt.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my mind spinning. My father’s illness means my single days are numbered. I can’t sacrifice the security and wellbeing of the citizens, even if a marriage comes at the cost of my own personal happiness. Still, I’d hoped for more time.

She flattens her lips, the way she does when she’s debating what to say. Finally, she offers, “Nico doesn’t just have the hearts of the people. He has your father’s ear.”

“And father wishes for him to be next in line,” I fill in the blanks. Of course, he does. My father has never made a secret of his disdain for me and my mother. Never hidden how much he’s hated the both of us.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get Rafael here.” My words may be confident but the knot in my stomach grows. I’ve promised I will live in this gilded cage forever.

“It’s important no one knows about this,” she whispers. “If word gets back to Nico…”

He’ll use it against me. Look at the princess, shirking her duties while her father is ill. How can such a young, foolish girl be trusted to run the country?

My mind spins with a thousand different ways to explain my absence. Still, I stand and gather myself. “If questioned, you’ll say I’ve been at the girls’ home.”

Her chin trembles. Only twice I have seen this woman cry. Both times it was for my mother. “You have to travel alone, as a regular citizen. You will announce Rafael publicly before the king and Nico can thwart the marriage.”

I give her shoulders a squeeze. She’s spent her life reassuring me and today, we’re switching roles. I am no longer the child she needs to calm. Now I am the future queen, and it is my job to soothe her. “I’ll return within a week with my groom.”

2

RAFE

“What’s wrong with you?”A sullen voice asks over my shoulder.

My skin is too tight. It’s too itchy, and I’m trapped on this metal tube that I can’t escape for another two hours. I try to remind myself that this will be over soon, but that does nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.

I don’t look at the young girl who’s spent the last hour kicking the back of my cramped plane seat. Still, when I speak, I manage to keep the irritation from my voice. She’s a kid. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Your hand is freaky,” she announces in a loud tone.

The other passengers pretend not to be listening, but I see the subtle glances my way. They were there when I boarded the plane too. When you’re different, people look at you with a mixture of pity—glad that they aren’t afflicted with the same problem and curiosity—insatiable for exactly why you’re different.

---