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Heart of a Royal

By Hannah Currie

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If mortification could kill, I’d be six feet under. And Nurse Kristiann over in the corner would probably still be trying to hide her laughter at the funeral. Some help she was. A word, a jerk of the head, even a cough would have been enough to warn me the three of us were no longer alone.
“Well? What happened next? Did Prince Thoraben find another pair of pants or did he have to stay sitting there until the princess left? What did the king say? Was he mad?”
I did my best to ignore Kristiann’s muffled laughter and the bemused prince standing in the doorway and focused instead on the wide gray eyes of the little girl in the hospital bed. The one intent on getting me into trouble. Even if she had no idea she was doing it. Not that I could really blame her. I had been the one to tell the story.
“He, uh…”
Seventeen years and nine months of living in the palace should have taught me better than to share personal information about the royal family. I’d never betrayed their confidence before, steering well-clear of anything which would put the family I all but called my own in a bad light but Roni had looked so worried this morning, staring out the window, the bright shirts she favored swapped for a colorless gown as she counted down the hours till her heart surgery. Even her curls were drooping. I would have done anything to make her smile, so when she asked if Thoraben, who she idolized along with the rest of Peverell, was as perfect as he seemed, I’d told her the first story that came to mind.
“Well?”
“Uh…” My gaze drifted beyond Roni to Ben, still standing in the doorway, all six foot of him. He’d crossed his arms now, a half smile quirking the side of his mouth as he leant against the door, no doubt waiting to see what I’d do next. As if I had any idea. What had I been thinking? And how had I not noticed him standing there? King Everson aside, Prince Thoraben was the most powerful man in Peverell, drawing the public eye wherever he went. Once upon a time, him catching me sharing one of his most embarrassing moments would have only made me embellish it more, teasing out each moment until we laughed so hard we couldn’t talk.
Once upon a time, we’d been children. “He…um…”
A hand rubbed its way across his smile, doing nothing to wipe it away. I don’t know what manner of pleading or apology he saw in my expression, nor how much he’d make me pay for it, but with a shake of his head and a few strides forward, he finally spoke.
“He made up a story about needing to leave, borrowed his little sister’s pink jacket under the very gallant guise of carrying it for her, tied it around his waist – desperately hoping it was long enough to cover the split in the back of his pants that lengthened as he stood – and walked back to the car. Where he proceeded to sit for the next forty minutes, waiting for his father to finish his meeting, not sure whether he regretted more the fact that he’d tried to impress Princess Taryn with a cartwheel or that his little sister and her best friend, Lady Kenna, had witnessed it and were still giggling. Thankfully, his father, the king, never found out.”
“Prince Thoraben!” Roni straightened in her bed, a thin, almost translucent hand fiddling with the gown she wore, tucking it tighter round her shoulders. “You’re in my room!”
He grinned as he pulled a chair over to her bed and sat. “I heard you were having an operation this afternoon and thought I’d come and see if you were okay.”
I hadn’t thought her eyes could have widened any more, nor my respect for this man grow any higher than it already was. Somehow, they did. “You heard about me?”
“Sure. Lady Mackenna, here, talks about you a lot.” He winked. She blushed. “And me, it seems.” Heat rushed across my cheeks again as he turned to me, eyebrow raised. I should have been thankful he found the situation so amusing. Perhaps I might have if I hadn’t been so busy berating myself over the fact that, once again, I’d let my heart get in the way of my better sense.
A princess always considers her words carefully before speaking.
A princess must be respectful at all times.
I wasn’t a princess. Not in blood nor in title, but while I lived at the palace and acted in their name, the same rules applied.
“She thinks you’re handsome,” Roni piped up, drawing his attention back to her.
“She does, does she?”
And there went the tips of my ears. Burnt to a crisp. Any second now my hair would start smoking and set off every alarm in the place. Roni’s heart might not have worked properly but her matchmaking mind certainly did. Last time I visited, she’d tried to set me up with Blake, one of her nurses. The time before it had been her uncle. Apparently, she’d now decided to skip those options and go for the most eligible man in Peverell. As if he even had the option of marrying me.
I sent a desperate glare in Kristiann’s direction, begging for intervention. Surely, she could come up with something. Nurses always had something they could do. Take a temperature, check a dressing, chart the level of pain…
“Yep. And the nicest man she’s ever known. I said she should marry you because she’s a princess and you’re a prince but she said she’s not really a princess so she couldn’t but my mom said she might as well be because she acts like one but when I told Lady Kenna that, she said—”
“You know, maybe you should marry him,” I interrupted, not sure where she was going with this conversation but certain Ben didn’t need to hear it. Amused as he currently seemed.
Roni sighed. “I can’t. I’m too young. Mom said so. But you’re not, Lady Kenna. You’re exactly the right age, and you did say he was—”
“Okay, Roni,” I interrupted, again. Yep, definitely going to get me in trouble. “I think we’ve told Prince Thoraben enough of our secrets for today. Look, Nurse Kristiann is going to check your blood pressure now—” whether she needed to or not – “And then as soon as your mom arrives, you’ll be ready to go.”
The loss of her beautiful smile was instant and like a hammer to my chest. If mortification wouldn’t kill me, perhaps regret would finish the job. Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry…” I reached out to take her hand, tucking it between mine. “I know this is scary but you’ve done it before and Nurse Kristiann and her friends will look after you and Doctor Jasen is so good at what he does that you won’t even know—”
“What if the Rebels come while I’m asleep?”
I started at the change of subject, coldness blanching the heat from my face like an avalanche. Even Kristiann seemed taken back, pausing halfway between her cart and the bed, cuff dangling forgotten in her hand. “Is that what you’re worried about?” I asked, careful to keep the trembling from my voice. Not the seriousness of the operation, not the pain or the recovery but terrorists attacking while she was under? What had brought this on? I looked at Kristiann, questions in my eyes. All she had to offer was a shrug.
“Did someone say something to you about the Rebels?” I asked Roni. She nodded, the action tipping tears from her eyes.
“The nurses were talking yesterday when they thought I was asleep. They said a Rebel group were suspected of being near the hospital.”
“Oh, honey, that hasn’t been proven. It’s just people talking. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“But if they attack while I’m in surgery, I won’t be able to hide.”
This time, the hammer to my chest took my breath away. I wanted to wrap my arms around the precious little girl and assure her I’d always be there to protect her but I couldn’t. Even within the walls of the palace, we lived in fear. Especially at the palace, because we were the ones the Rebel group were after.
A glance at the man beside me showed Ben’s smile, also, had given way to stoic sadness. Was he thinking about the last time the Rebels had attacked? The day he’d lost his mother and the kingdom of Peverell their beloved queen? There had been minor skirmishes and attempts since but nothing to rival that one. That day had changed us all.
I squeezed Roni’s hand, refusing to let my fear grow hers. The poor girl had enough to worry about and surely even the worst of criminals had enough decency not to attack a hospital full of chronically-ill children. I hoped. My smile was genuine, if a little shaky.
“You’ll be safe here. I promise.”
“How do you know?”
How? I didn’t. Not at all. But I couldn’t tell her that. My mind sped through a thousand answers, trying to find one that would satisfy Roni, never quite landing until Ben’s hand reached out to cover both of ours. Whether he did it to comfort Roni or simply to offer strength, in that moment, the words came.
“Because Prince Thoraben will protect us.” I leaned in closer, gesturing with my free hand for her to do the same, a thrill of success jolting through me when she did. I would fix this. She might still have a hundred things playing on her mind today but Rebels wouldn’t be one of them – even if the thought of them attacking had me jumping at shadows for the rest of the day. My voice dropped to just above a whisper. “I don’t know if you’ve seen, but he looks pretty impressive dressed in his uniform. He even has a sword! The Rebels would take one look at him standing there in all that majesty and run for cover as quickly as their weak little legs could carry them.”
Her giggle was worth every bit of embarrassment saying such a thing in front of Ben cost me. I hoped he would believe it to be a silly bit of prattle meant to calm the nerves of an anxious child and not the truth but the ears once again singeing my hair had me doubting it. I tilted my head forward just enough to let my long hair cover them, ignoring Ben’s knowing smile as I did. The man saw far too much.
Roni’s mother’s arrival was just the distraction I needed.
“Oh look, your mom is here. We’ll go now but I’ll be back to see you tomorrow. You be the brave girl I know you are, okay?” I gave her thin hand another squeeze before standing to greet the woman who’d entered. I couldn’t hear what Ben whispered as he bent down to Roni’s ear but whatever it was, it brought a smile to her face bigger than any I’d seen today. It was all that stopped me crying as I blew her a kiss and walked out, Ben closing the door behind us. Seeing these kids in pain was always difficult. Seeing them scared wrenched my heart. But seeing them smile?
“Thanks.”
I didn’t qualify what it was I was thanking Ben for as we walked down the hospital hall together but the word alone seemed enough.
“Kenna?”
“Hmmm?” Stop thinking about the Rebels, Kenna. You’re safe. Truly. They won’t come here. They wouldn’t. Roni is fine. The breath I filled my lungs with smelled of disinfectant laced with some type of flowery air-freshener but it was enough to ground me. I glanced at my watch. Who next? Martin in bed eleven would be getting back from his appointment soon. I’d missed him last week. And I’d promised Jordana a visit, although with grandparents, two aunts and several cousins currently in with her, that could probably wait till later. There was only so much room in there. Perhaps Millie? Chatting with that precocious two-year-old always brought a smile to my face. She’d have woken up from her morning nap by now.
“About the Rebels…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not really counting on you to protect us. I just said that to keep her happy. I know, I should have kept my mouth shut.” Regarding more than just the Rebels. King Everson would be furious if word ever got back to him about the story I told. But I couldn’t change that now so there was no point in ruing it. Bed five for Millie. I turned to head back to the other end of the ward.
“No, wait, that’s not what I—” Ben stopped, frowned, that action in itself enough to give me pause. I hugged my purse against my chest and waited, hoping whatever he had to say wouldn’t take too long. “They’re not—” He pursed his lips. Another sentence broken off. Another frown.
He looked down the hall, smiled at a passing doctor, looked back at me, considering for a long moment before he quirked his head. Grinned. “You think I’m handsome?” I stopped just short of whacking his arm. One did not hit a prince. Even if the prince was practically one’s brother and well-deserving of it. Especially since, as Mother reminded me almost daily, he wasn’t my brother.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
“Looking for a wife. Though apparently, neither you nor Roni are takers.”
“Very funny. What are you really doing here?”
“King Dorien and Prince Marcos are on their way from Hodenia. They’ll be at the palace in—” He checked his watch. “—approximately forty-seven minutes.”
My purse dropped several inches before I caught it. “And you’re only just now telling me? It takes twenty minutes to get back to the palace! And I’m not dressed or—”
“You look great.”
I was wearing jeans and tennis shoes. Designer, of course, stylish, perfect for an afternoon tromping around the hospital, sitting cross-legged on beds while chatting with kids. Not so much for greeting visiting royalty. And if I was this nervous…
“Alina’s going to be a wreck.”

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