Chapter 29

CHARLES:

I followed Isabella out to the courtyard, my thoughts racing. Esmeralda had just confirmed to the entire room that Mila Benson was Felix’s Destined Bride, and the poor girl had not a clue.

I had always despised Felix. For the first born son of a king, he certainly seemed to resent his position of privilege in the world. Obviously, the Dragon Knight curse was troubling for him, and for my parents as well, but they acted like Felix dying would be the end of the world when they had another son available who was just as capable of running the kingdom.

It was infuriating.

I had been hoping for years that Felix wouldn’t find his Destined Bride and that this whole thing would just blow over. Now, there was a girl in the picture, and my once-clear path to the throne seemed foggier than ever.

I needed an ally.

Isabella was weeping in the garden when I found her. She was a snob, for sure, but she also was fairly simple-minded, distracted by the latest shiny thing. She wanted one thing and one thing only: to be queen. It would be easy enough to manipulate her feelings for Felix and get her to join my cause.

I draped an arm around Isabella. “There, there,” I soothed. Her sobbing eventually subsided and she looked up at me through puffy eyes.

“She’s so poor and I’m so beautiful and I don’t understand why Felix chose her,” Isabella sniffled.

“I understand,” I said. “I don’t want them to get married either.”

Isabella laughed slightly. “You just want to be King,” she said.

I paused. Maybe she was smarter than I had originally given her credit for.

“I want what’s best for my brother,” I said carefully. “And I don’t think Mila is what’s best for him. Besides, I’d much rather have you as a sister-in-law.”

Isabella giggled at the compliment. “She’d be a terrible royal.”

“She would be.” That we could agree on. “But I need your help. We need to break up Mila and Felix.”

Isabella crinkled her nose. “What’s your plan?”

“Mila doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who would appreciate being used,” I mused. “And we both know Felix doesn’t actually have feelings for her. He’s only pretending to woo her because she’s his Destined Bride.”

“Doesn’t he need to marry his Destined Bride to break the curse?” Isabella sounded doubtful.

I steadied my breath. This was the lie I had been preparing all evening, since she first crashed the family dinner.

“The Great Witch has ways of keeping him alive,” I lied. “He just has to find the Destined Bride, not necessarily marry her. That’s all the curse stipulates.”

Isabella tilted her head, considering. “Huh. I never realized that.”

“And he’s found her now,” I pressed on. “Which leaves the door open to marrying you. As soon as Mila finds out about the Dragon Knights, she’ll be so furious she’ll move back to America.”

Isabella clapped her hands in glee. “Isn’t it treason to share the secret of the Dragon Knights with anyone outside of the royal family?”

“It is,” I said, leaning back a little. “But I don’t think we tell her outright. I think we just leave little hints here and there. Prey on her insecurities about dating a prince. Make her suspicious. No one’s to blame if she does the digging and figures it all out on her own.”

Isabella looked up at me with trusting eyes. “Why are you doing this, Charles?” she asked. “Not that I mind, I’m just curious.”

“I want what’s best for the throne,” I said. That was at least true. “And I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

Isabella nodded. “Then count me in. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. As long as I get to marry Felix and send that bitch back where she belongs, I’ll be happy.”

I smirked. “Then we have a deal, Lady Isabella.”

The games were about to begin.

MILA

The day after dinner with Felix’s parents, I set off on my new job search.

I’d had a difficult time sleeping the night before. My dreams were filled with the memory of what Felix and I had done in the shower.

The morning was bright and clear, and the day smelled like hope. I needed that–a fresh start, a way to prove to myself that I was worthy of Felix.

There were plenty of restaurants in Fresia, and most of them were hiring. My first stop was a charming coffee shop about two blocks down from my motel. The owner was only a little older than me, and she seemed surprised when I walked in and asked for a job application.

“The sign in the window says you’re hiring,” I said, to her confused expression.

“Well, I am, but…” her voice trailed off.

“I know I’m American,” I said, “but I’m really qualified for this. If you look at my resume–”

“Aren’t you the prince’s consort?” she asked.

I frowned. “Yeah, but… how did you know?”

She pointed at the small TV in the corner of the cafe. Sure enough, all the headlines today were all about Felix finding the love of his life–me. Great. This was certainly going to complicate things.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said finally.

The owner smiled. “Here, take your coffee on the house. Is there a pastry you’d like? You can stay here for as long as you’d like and get work done or read or something.”

She slid me my latte.

“Thank you, but really, I just want to work here,” I explained. “I’m a very experienced chef. I can handle any course, including dessert and breakfast, which might be helpful for you. I got a Royal Chef Badge last week–”

“I’m not really hiring cooks right now,” the owner interrupted me. “But I would love it if you could become a spokesperson! I have a PR budget and I think you’d be a fabulous fit.”

Disappointed, I thanked her and moved on to the next place–an upscale restaurant that I assumed rivaled Samara’s Place.

It was the same conversation up and down Main Street. No one wanted me as their new chef, rather, they wanted the Prince’s Consort to be the public face of their establishment. My resume was thrown out at every restaurant, instead, patrons were begging for a photograph with me.

Some didn’t even ask. I could sense people whipping out their phone cameras as I passed them on the street. I felt very self-conscious, and a part of me yearned for my old mask.

At the end of the day, I trudged back to my motel room and freshened up. I was supposed to have a date with Felix, but I wasn’t really in the mood. I just wanted to curl up on the bed and cry.

That night at dinner with Felix, I was quiet. I didn’t know how to tell him about my day. Lucky for me, he was somehow able to guess.

“The job search isn’t going well?” he asked, pouring me a glass of wine.

I looked at him curiously. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

It was true–Felix always seemed to know exactly what was going on in my mind. It was almost a little strange, how accurate he was all the time. A part of me felt a twinge of fear at that. Was the prince spying on me? Was this how he typically wooed women?

You’re different to him, I reminded myself. His first consort. Maybe even his last.

For a moment there, his expression was unreadable. His face was blank as he eventually said, “I just know you, I suppose.”

It was a measured response on his part. My slight insecurities still tugged at the corners of my mind, but I chose to push them down and focus on our meal.

I picked at my plate. “Yeah, the search isn’t going spectacularly well. Everyone just wants me to be a spokesperson for their restaurant, like being the prince’s girlfriend will give them some level of prestige. No one wants me to actually get my hands dirty and cook for them.”

“But you have a Royal Chef Badge!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, that happens to be the least interesting thing about me right now according to the restaurant scene,” I mumbled. “But I can’t afford a place of my own until I get a job, and I can’t get a job if no one will hire me. It’s exhausting.”

“Is there something else you’d rather do?” Felix asked.

“I’d like to own a place of my own someday,” I admitted. “But that’s a long way off.”

Felix looked down at the table for a long moment before speaking.

“Mila, please, let me help you somehow.”

I sighed. “Felix, I don’t want to be rescued. I want to do this myself.”

Felix looked at me. “That’s the thing, though. I just want to give you some money to open a place–the rest is all you. If the food is bad, Mila, people won’t go. That you will have to prove on your own.”

He had a point, but I didn’t want to tell him that.

“Yeah, but…”

“Think of me as an investor,” Felix interrupted. “I believe in you and your product. I want to help launch you. You wouldn’t say no to an investor, would you?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Great.” Felix leaned back in his chair. “Besides, I can’t bear to see you unhappy. Really, if anything, this is a present for me.”

“I didn’t say it was a done deal,” I said. “I just said I’d think about it.”

“You can make me a major shareholder, if that makes you feel better,” Felix suggested. “That way it’s entirely by-the-book.”

“You would do that for me?” I was touched.

“I would do anything for you, Mila,” Felix murmured.

I smiled at him.

“Then I’ll allow it,” I said finally. Felix’s eyes lit up.

“But,” I continued, “nothing big or fancy. I want a small space to start, so I can really get settled before I think about attempting anything huge.”

“That seems fair,” Felix conceded. “Do you know where you want it?”

I hesitated. I did, but…

“You already have a space in mind,” Felix guessed. “Where? Just tell me.”

“There’s a little corner space near the castle,” I admitted. “We’ve driven past it a few times. It’s an old cottage that’s been renovated. It’s been on the market the entire time I’ve been here. I don’t know how much it costs, but…”

My voice trailed off when I saw the expression on Felix’s face.

“I think it sounds perfect,” he said.