A Player for A Princess

“You were right never to trust him,” she says. “I’m sick every time I think how I encouraged you to date him. I’ll never question your judgment again.”

“It was the worst time of my life. I thought I was in hell.” My voice is barely a whisper. “I can’t believe Seth would do that to me.”

“Oh, god,” she starts to cry. “They would have killed you.”

“Hey, Ava-bug,” I exhale a laugh. “I’m okay now. Let’s focus on that.”

She lifts my hand and holds it. My thick gauze bandage and metal brace have been replaced with a flesh-colored nylon pressure glove, and I’m able to wear my engagement ring over it.

“I love your ring,” she says quietly. “I love how Cal treats you.”

“He’s pretty great,” I say, unable to stop the grin splitting my cheeks. “Who knew Zelda Wilder would ever settle down?”

“Marrying Cal hardly counts as settling down, buuut….” She singsongs, reaching out to rub my midsection. “Being a mama might slow you down a little bit.”

Placing a hand over my eyes, I can’t help shaking my head. “Don’t even say it. I can’t believe I’m going to have a little princess.”

“I’m being replaced!” She fake-pouts right before starting to laugh. The tears glistening in her eyes now are happy ones. “I’m so excited. I can’t wait to dress her up in all the little clothes and bows and shoes and tiaras…”

“You’ll have to visit us in Tortola.”

“Oh,” she looks over her shoulder at Rowan. I follow her gaze and see his calm blue eyes observing our reunion. Her cheeks pink. “I don’t think Rowan will let me be gone that long.”

That makes me laugh. “What is he, your father?”

“No.” Her voice goes quiet, and a naughty look passes over her face. “He likes me to be here for him.”

My eyebrows rise, and I glance from the future king back to my little sister. “Okay,” I say before changing the subject. “About this wedding…”

“Oh!” She scoots forward in the seat, holding my hands. “Everyone keeps saying how we have to plan it for a year because there are so many balls and events and things leading up to a royal wedding.”

“So we’re looking at a year of parties before you can marry him?”

“That’s just it,” she leans closer. “Rowan thinks we can skip all of that. He hates all the balls and parties anyway. So we’re going to do one enormous gala and then poof!” She moves her slim fingers in a starburst motion. “We get married.”

My eyebrows rise. “I like it! How can I help?”

“Just be here for me.” She turns in her seat as the car slows to a stop.

We’re at the palace, and I peek out the window. I still feel like a fish out of water with all these people, but I guess if Ava is happy here, I can help her with her wedding. I don’t even go into the fact my own fiancé, the father of my baby, is one of these pampered insiders.

I’ve just never thought of Cal that way. It’s not how we relate to each other.

“So I was thinking a masquerade ball would be the most amazing thing. I saw pictures of the spring masque in Venice, and it is unbelievable…” Ava is off in planning mode, and I’m following along after her.

A quick glance behind us, and I see Rowan talking to Hajib, but my guy, my Cal, is standing beside the car watching us go. I lift my hand and do a little wave. He laughs and gives me a wink in reply. I really do love that guy.

* * *

We’re in Ava’s plush bedroom. I’m lying on an enormous four-poster topped with a pillow-soft white duvet. Material swatches and magazines are spread all around us, and she’s showing me sketches from hopeful designers wanting her to pick their dresses.

“It’s so weird,” she says quietly, as if someone might be listening in. “They all want me to use their designs. It could make their careers if I wear their dress!”

“You’re going to be a queen, Ava-bug. You’ve got to get used to what that means.”

Nodding, she pushes a long piece of dark hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

That makes me frown. “Are you unhappy being engaged to Rowan?”