Chapter 46

MILA

All thoughts and concerns about being a foreigner to the Fresonian people flew out of my head the second Felix proposed. I couldn’t stop staring at the ring on my finger. It was a massive diamond–a family heirloom, apparently–and caught the light whenever I moved my hand. I moved through the world like I was floating.

Felix also seemed delighted. He kept trying to discuss wedding details and a time frame, but I was levitating on air. I didn’t have time to think about wedding planning, not when my head was entirely occupied by exclamation points and cartoon hearts.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get married right away?” Felix asked yet again while I tried to photograph the rose petals and candles, desperate to capture the moment.

“I just don’t think we need to be in a rush,” I said, kissing his face over and over. “I’m just happy to be with you. And besides, I’m sure royal weddings are quite involved. Won’t that take some time and coordination to figure out?”

“I suppose,” Felix said, his face shifting slightly as he thought through what I was saying. “Like I said, we can keep talking about it.”

We weren’t able to reach his parents to share the good news, so we instead enjoyed a breakfast out on the veranda. The engagement glow had yet to wear off, and we ended the breakfast with me in his lap and his shirt somewhere on the ground.

Felix suggested that we go into the town of Carnea for some shopping and lunch. I gleefully changed into a white cotton romper (my new signature color, I thought smugly) and grabbed one of the parasols that Mrs. Raven had packed for me. I wanted to continue to protect my privacy, especially now that I was engaged. The word did not need to get out before we were even able to tell the King and Queen.

Felix grinned at me as I met him by the front door.

“You look beautiful, fiancée,” Felix said. “Especially your new jewelry.”

“Oh, this old thing?” I demurred. He laughed and took my arm.

“It suits you,” he said. “It was my great-grandmother’s ring. I didn’t know her well, but she and my great-grandfather had a wonderful romance that is rather famous in our family history. She was a poor milkmaid in the Fresonian mountains, and he was the heir to the throne. They met when he was going on a grand tour of the country, and it was love at first sight.”

“Did the people accept her?” I asked, thinking about what Felix had said about the importance of nobility.

“They did, because she was a good and gentle queen,” Felix said. “They learned to love her once they got to know her.”

“Good to know,” I responded, looking down at my ring again.

“The people of Fresonia will love you too,” Felix assured me. “They just have to get to know you. Once they see how passionate and kind you are, they will be thrilled to have you as their Queen.”

Frankly, I had not put a lot of thought into the fact that marrying Felix meant that one day I would become a ruler of Fresonia. That felt like an enormous responsibility that I was truly unprepared for.

I decided to push all thoughts of the monarchy out of my head as I sat down to put on shoes. Felix grinned and helped me to my feet, opening the front door and letting in a stream of sunlight.

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you the town.”

Carnea was a lot smaller than Fresia–the whole town was maybe three square miles, but every inch was packed with something–a tiny, colorful house, a flower store, a bakery. It felt like a small town, with everyone greeting each other as they passed on the street. I used the parasol to shade my face from most of the passersby, acutely aware of the attention Felix and I had attracted when we were out shopping in Fresia.

To my surprise, and delight, no one really seemed to care that the Prince of Fresonia was walking the streets with the rest of them. We were able to shop and browse in peace, which was a welcome change.

Felix was right–Carnea was full of beautiful, unique, handcrafted furniture that would be perfect for my restaurant. Felix helped me place a rush order on sets of intricately carved tables and chairs, each with their own special design and character.

I was obsessed with the city. I loved every street corner, every hidden alley. We got some art pieces for the apartment, and I even found a lovely hand-painted scarf to bring home for Mrs. Raven.

Felix was acting more relaxed than he had in ages, and I was starting to wonder if one of the reasons he had been acting so strangely was due to nerves over the proposal. Being in Carnea made it seem like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, which I loved to see.

Something about being by the sea, with the man I was going to marry, made my steps lighter. I was almost skipping down the streets, forcing Felix to keep up.

We got lunch at a small cafe that overlooked the sea. The food traditions in Carnea dated back almost as long as their furniture making, so I was eager to try some of the local cuisine.

I was not disappointed. The food in Carnea was magnificent. Mainly variations on seafood, which made sense, but the cafe also offered a chicken, mushroom, and wild rice dish that had me making notes in my recipe idea notebook.

“The work never stops, does it?” Felix remarked playfully as I notated all the flavor profiles I was trying.

“Making food for other people never feels like work,” I told him.

“It doesn’t?” Felix asked, popping a mussel in his mouth.

“No,” I said. I searched for the words to explain. “It’s more like it feels like a nice thing I can do to improve the world around me, and that never feels like a chore.”

“I feel that way about some of my royal duties. Not all of them, but the ones that involve… helping people, as silly and cliché as that may sound,” Felix admitted. “I suppose that as a prince, it was drilled into me from an early age to seek passion in doing things for other people.”

After lunch, we went for a walk down on the boardwalk that went along the coastline. The water was cerulean blue, and I couldn’t tell where it ended and where the sky began. It was the perfect afternoon.

From across the street, a man caught my eye. He was tall and lanky, with pointed features and a sharp jawline. His red hair swooped lazily over his forehead, and his eyes darted around, as if looking for something. He had a sleeve of tattoos on one arm, and was the only one not smiling and greeting the people he passed on the street.

It was like I had been frozen in place. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. All I could think about was showing up in Fresonia, waiting at the airport, feeling my heart sink as I saw every face that wasn’t his. How he had once promised me forever, only to take my money and run.

And now he was here, in this peaceful place, stirring up long-forgotten feelings of anger and resentment.

Derek.