Page 110 of Stolen Princess

I swallow thickly and lick my dry lips.

“If that’s what you want,” he continues, softening his approach to my visible unease. He’s giving me the choice, and now those tears that had been glistening fall. God, I’ve done nothing but cry this week when crying wasn’t really my thing before.

“I’d like that. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Your Highness, there are a lot of people who are very anxious to meet you. But there are also people who are anxious to stop that meeting. We’re going to need to keep this very tight.”

“I understand.” And I do. That’s been the story of my life since I walked out of the cottage. Possibly even before. “I’ll answer whatever questions I can, though I’m not sure how much I know.”

“If your friend hadn’t called and told us about you, we wouldn’t have been this close today. We wouldn’t have known about you, nor would we have believed it if you’d called. He saved you.”

My eyes close, and I release a shaky breath. “He did. A few times.”

I don’t care about the reward he was after. He deserved it. He should have gotten it and his retirement. If I hadn’t gotten so upset, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t be dead now. I know he was trying to let me go. He had been not so subtly hinting at it. He didn’t feel the same way about me as I felt about him. It sucks. But he was still good to me. Better than he needed to be.

I shake my head and wipe at the insipid tears.

I wish we could have had more time. All the time. All the kisses and caresses and moments. I wish I could have tracked him down on his island. We could have had more.

God, I hate this. He’s gone, and I yelled at him. I told him I hate him when what I feel for him is the opposite of hate. He wasn’t there with me. But what I felt for him was real. I won’t excuse it away and say it was simply the situation or that he was the first guy to ever flirt or show interest.

I’ll hold onto it—onto him—for the rest of my life.

A few minutes later, my nurse returns with some clean clothes for me and discharge instructions. I need a shower and a proper meal, but my nerves are running this show as Gabe keeps his arm around my shoulder and guides me to the elevator. We’re greeted by another man who introduces himself to me as Javier. He’s older and has kind eyes. I recognize his accent as the one I spoke to on the phone.

I’m helped up into a helicopter, strapped in, and given a pair of giant headphones to put on. It’s surreal. In the span of a week, I went from Genevieve, a girl who lived an isolated life alone in a cottage, to a girl who’s escaped death three times and is now being transported via helicopter to a palace where I’m to meet a family I don’t remember and haven’t seen since I was an infant.

Oh, and the woman who raised me and claimed to love me had me drugged and sent two killers after me.

I haven’t processed anything. I’m not sure how to even begin doing that.

The helicopter takes off, and I spend the trip staring out the window at the world around us and the ground far below. My stomach is in my throat, and no amount of deep breathing or mental pep talks can get it lower.

We land on a field in the middle of nowhere, and I’m guided to a large black SUV. I don’t ask questions. I simply go where I’m taken, and when we park in front of the massive—and no joke, it’s fucking massive—palace, two women are there waiting for me. One is petite with curves, brown hair, blue eyes, and a giant smile. The other is a taller blonde with green eyes and reserved features.

“Hi!” the brunette chirps with a warm, welcoming hug. “I’m Bellamy, Sebastian’s wife. It’s fantastic to meet you. This is Marcella, Rowan’s fiancée.”

She’s talking about the king and prince, so that makes her the queen. She’s American. I can tell by her accent, and I remember Ferrin mentioning her. She’s the supposed curse breaker. And she called herself by her first name with no formality. It sets me at ease a bit.

“Hi!” I offer her a smile that I’m not sure hits my lips. “Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you both.”

“Sebastian and Rowan felt it might be too overwhelming if they were here instead of us. So you’ll meet them later over drinks and appetizers. Everything is better with alcohol and food.” The brunette laughs. “The children will be at dinner, but they’ll take some of the pressure off. Trust me. They’re incredible.”

I nod. That’s it. But I’m shaking, and there’s no hiding it.

“Don’t stress it,” the blonde informs me, gesturing to the brunette. “This is where you belong, and it gets easier. Trust me. Neither of us grew up like this, so we totally get it. But you should know I was also raised by Antonia, though I suspect it was different for you than it was for me.”

That gives me pause. My eyes round. “You were? How?”

“She was sort of my boss in a way. She was the head of the house for the family I lived with. It’s a really long story, but I think we’ll end up sharing a lot of those with each other. I don’t know what she was like with you.”

“She was…” I sigh. I’m heartbroken, and I feel like that’s all I’ve been for a week. “Like a mother to me. A mother who wasn’t around much. She disciplined me a lot as a child, but eventually, I stopped giving her reasons to. She was a mother who kept me alone and isolated. A mother who turned out to be a liar and just as violent and dangerous as all the people she warned me against.”

She gives me a wan smile. “I understand that perfectly. You’re not alone anymore. Truly, this may be a palace, and they are royalty, but once you get to know them, you’ll see, they’re the best people in the world.”

I release a shaky breath, a lightness hitting my muscles and taking away the heaviness that’s lived inside me, well, forever. “Honestly, that might be the best thing anyone has said to me.”

“I’m sorry that was your life with her,” she continues. “She used to leave our house every weekend for one night. I never knew where she went, but I’m assuming Signoria Batorini did. She was my evil stepmother, for lack of a better term. They were best friends.”