CHAPTER ELEVEN
Iliana
Surf. And. Turf.
I hadn’t had surf and turf in ages, so I was savoring every bite of the lobster, shrimp, and a nice cut of steak while Jenn laughed at all the inappropriate noises I was making.
I was laying it on a little thickly, but in truth, I was starving and honestly didn’t care as long as I could feed my face. My appetite had been iffy for days now, and I wanted to take advantage of feeling good.
“Soooooo completely delicious,” I moaned as I chewed a bite of lobster tail dripping in butter. The couple next to us glanced my way, and it was all Jenn could do to keep it together.
“You’re so naughty.”
I winked at her and tucked back into my food.
“You’ve got it pretty bad for him,” she said, and the next bite of shrimp stopped a mere inch from my lips.
I knew who she was talking about, but I wasn’t about to admit it. “Who?”
“Stop, Squeaks.” She threw a bread roll at me, and it bounced off my chin and onto my plate, earning us another round of disapproving looks. And did someone take a picture?
I straightened at the thought, imagined how mortified Auntie Hermione would be if she could see me now. And probably Seb too.
Refusing to let my thoughts go there, I continued to ignore Jenn while more slowly and elegantly popping the shrimp into my mouth.
Jenn pointed a fork at me. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know?”
I continued to chew, slowly and methodically. The same way I’d seen my great aunt consume her food.
Jenn continued to wave her fork. “It’s happening already. One mention of the duke and you go from the Iliana who makes orgasm noises while she eats to meek and mild Iliana who holds her pinky out just right.”
I was sipping from my seltzer water and curled my pinky back into its original position.
“See. If it weren’t so annoying, it’d be hilarious.”
I set down my glass and sighed. “You’re just being a bitch now.” I reached for the wine I’d also ordered and took a sip. It almost immediately turned my stomach so I pushed it away.
Jenn’s face turned compassionate. “I don’t mean to be a bitch. I’m just worried about you.”
I stared at the lobster tail, wondering if another bite would magically appear if I looked at it hard enough. “I’m fine. There’s no need to worry.”
She reached across the table and took my hand. “Don’t fall for him, Il.”
I didn’t even try to play dumb this time. “I’m not. I won’t. I’m not that stupid.”
She gave me a disbelieving look. “D.U.S.T.I.N. Remember him?”
I scowled and pulled my hand away. “Vaguely. What about him?”
“Remember when I told you that he was a player and not to fall for him? What did you do?”
I sighed and shoved my plate away, not hungry anymore. “Fell for him,” I muttered.
The compassionate expression returned. “Actually, I don’t think you really fell for him, Il. I think you fell for the concept of him.”
I wiped my fingers on the cloth napkin. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you were more pissed than hurt when he cheated on you.”
I met her dark eyes. This conversation was getting heavy. Too heavy. Especially since she was right. “I’d actually hoped he’d be the one.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Exactly. You hoped he’d be the one, but a part of you knew he wasn’t. I think he was just a comfort zone boyfriend for you.”
“That makes me sound pathetic.”
“No…” She reached across and took my hand again. Did another camera flash? I looked around then back at her. “It doesn’t make you pathetic. It makes you human. You were finally settled in one city for more than a couple years. It made sense that you’d seek a way to make it even more permanent.”
I looked to my left and out the window to the blue waters of the Aegean Sea. “Look at me now,” I murmured. “Maybe I wasn’t meant to be in one spot for very long.”
She followed my gaze. “Who knows, Il. Maybe you just haven’t found that one spot yet.”
I immediately thought of Sebastianos, then immediately tried to push his image away.
“Don’t fall for him.”
Crap. The girl could read my mind.
I reached for my water, taking a long sip before meeting her eyes. “I won’t. We’re from two different worlds, and besides, there’s no way I could live in the glass fishbowl the royal family does.”
Jenn downed the last of her wine, and when she eyed my glass, I pushed it toward her. She grabbed it up. “It was crazy how many people swarmed on him at the mall. Cameras everywhere.”
“It’s because he’s a duke,” I stressed. “Actually, he’s a freaking prince but he prefers the other role. He’s second in line to the throne. I mean, what happens if the king died tomorrow? Would a six-year-old take his place or would Sebastianos suddenly be thrust into being a king, or an interim king until Penelope gets older?”
Jenn stared at me wide-eyed. “I have no idea.”
I threw up my hands. “Me either. And guess what? I can’t be concerned about that because I have a job to do. I work in the palace. I can’t make it weird there because I really need that internship. Not just the money, but the resume building and the contacts. If I get it twisted about what’s really going on with him and me, I could really screw up something I’ve worked really hard for.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” She looked around before leaning closer to me. “But aren’t you curious? Curious if things would be as great between the two of you a second time as it was the first?”
Just the mention of my time with Seb made something twist low in my belly. “Yes, but that was supposed to have been one night. It was only some strange freak of nature that we ever saw each other again.”
Jenn’s face softened. “Freak of nature or destiny?”
I stared at her. “Hey. What happened to all the ‘don’t fall for him’ stuff you were spouting just a minute ago?”
She shrugged then dropped her face in her hands. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard not to want to romanticize the whole thing. I mean, you could be a duchess or a princess or a queen.”
I snorted so loud the surrounding tables looked over at me. I gave them all a sorry face. “You’re talking nonsense. We had one night together. Don’t go making it into…”
A waiter walked past, a plate of steaming scallops in his hand. The smell hit me like a slap, and I gagged and pressed my hand to my mouth.
Jenn’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed hard, gulping over and over trying to chase away the sudden burst of nausea that hit me. Oh dear god. I was suddenly very certain I was about to throw up in this very nice restaurant.
Jenn thrust my water at me. “Here, drink this.”
Instead of drinking, I spooned out the lemon and held it under my nose, a trick I learned from my mother.
Jenn pushed her plate away. “Food poisoning? Have we been poisoned?”
I waved my hand at her, trying to make her hush as patrons began looking at us again.
The world narrowed to the tip of a pin as I put every ounce of concentration into not throwing up. I was inhaling the lemony scent deeply through my nose while pressing my hand to my stomach.
Nope. Not working.
I stood straight up and gave Jenn a be right back finger.
Then I ran. I hardly made it into the ladies’ room and into the bathroom stall when I upended everything I’d just eaten into the toilet. It took me a good five minutes to regain my equilibrium, and after washing up and blotting my face, I returned to the table and found the scallop smell was blessedly gone.
But Jenn was eyeing me with a funny look. “You okay?”
I nodded and took a sip of water. “Better. Must have been something I ate.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re sure?”
I waved my hand over the empty plates in front of me. “Pretty sure. I just ate enough for a small city.”
She gave the plates a thoughtful look. “Probably so. For a second I thought you might be knocked up.”
I gave her a look of horror and held two fingers up like a cross. “Don’t even say such a thing.”
She laughed. “Just what you need, to give birth to an illegitimate duke.”
I threw my napkin at her. “That’s not even a smidge bit funny.”
She picked up the glass of wine, eyeing me thoughtfully. “You guys used condoms, right?”
I signed and leaned back in my chair. “Of course we did. I’m not completely stupid.”
Jenn looked relieved and settled back in her chair, lifting the wine to her lips. It took Jenn a long moment to speak, but when she finally did, she’d blessedly let the conversation drop.
“So, is tomorrow a beach day?”
***
Thierry handed me a gigantic smartphone that was worth about what some people pay for a used car. I held it gingerly in my hands although I wanted to toss it back at the royal photographer.
“I’m not sure I—”
“He requested you,” Thierry reminded me for the eighth time.
“Yes, but—”
Thierry cut me off with a dramatic sweep of his hand. “No, Miss Costas…” He wasn’t being unkind but there was force behind the words. “When Your Highness asks you to handle something, you don’t get to fret and stew and think you’re not good enough. You do it.”
He sounded so logical, but I still wasn’t convinced.
“Listen to what I’m trying to say,” I began, hoping I wasn’t coming across as too combative or ungrateful. “I don’t feel like I understand life inside the palace enough to be in charge of the social media accounts. I—”
Thierry made a snorting sound. “My dear, first, as talented as you are, please be assured that you won’t be in charge of anything. Marta will oversee all posts before they go live. You’ll simply upload them into a site that schedules them, then either Marta or I will go through and approve them. Second, how else do you plan to get the know the palace and the people in it if you don’t wander around and take photographs?”
He had a good point.
“But—”
“And third, when the King of Cassia issues a direct order… you do it. Understood?”
Opening my mouth to speak, I could only close it again, knowing I’d been defeated. Turning the photographic marvel in my hands, I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He looked pleased. “Now, general guidelines. No candid shots of the royal family without my expressed permission — not the king, not the princess, and not the duke or any of their staff members. Group shots of activity of, say, guards or tour guides, gardeners, kitchen staff? Those are all fine. Get names and then double-check that we have photo waivers signed before uploading any images. Any questions so far?”
“No, I understand.” Although I actually didn’t understand why no pictures of the royal family, but whatever. It was probably best that I had no additional reason to be near the duke.
“Focus on the gardens, they’re a favorite of his majesty’s, and if you go anywhere around the country when you’re not here, post your travel photos. Our oceans and high deserts are glorious, and I think it’s just the thing His Royal Highness is looking for. As he told me, he wanted our beautiful country to be seen through the eyes of a newcomer.”
Seemed simple enough, so I put the phone in its protective bag.
“Any sort of quota or goal you want me to meet?”
He shook his head. “Quality before quantity, naturally.” He peered at me over his glasses. “But at least one per day would make the king very happy.”
“Understood.” I gave him a sheepish look. “And I apologize for being overly dramatic. I’m honored to have been selected for this assignment, and I promise to do my best.”
He inclined his head, as regal looking as any royal. “Perfectly natural, my dear. Now, off you go. You looked a bit peaked.”
In truth, I felt a bit peaked. My shift was over, and after a long afternoon behind a computer trying to learn and mimic Thierry’s photo editing style, I was tired. Very tired.
I forced a bright smile and hooked my messenger bag over my shoulder. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m truly very happy to be here. This is a dream come true.”
Photographer that he was, he eyed me critically. “Sleeping okay these days, Miss Costas? Or perhaps too much time shopping?”
I frowned. How did he know I’d been shopping?
But before I could ask, his phone rang, and he excused himself. Still pondering his knowledge, I gave a little wave of goodbye and ducked out of his office to wander the maze of palace hallways for a moment, making a mental plan of where I would start with my new mission.
Gardens? Tours?
I wrinkled my nose at that. The king was obviously trying to increase the country’s exposure and get more interaction on social media, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the audience and the messages were aligned.
I wasn’t sure that the majority of people on the photo-sharing site were really interested in royal gardens or tour guides. My boundaries were definitely a little more constricting than I’d like, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t be creative.
Wandering along the bustling halls, my mind jumped from idea to idea.
The daily meals coming out of the kitchen? It was good. Definitely a good one, but not that different from about a million other accounts out there.
As humans, we loved faces. It was how we oriented ourselves in pictures, and it was how we told stories and discerned what was happening in a photograph.
But aside from guards and guides, the faces that people really wanted to see in the palace were off limits.
My steps were slowing as I chewed my lower lip.
Faces.
The idea hit me hard, and I stopped in my tracks, nearly causing a page who’d been following too closely to crash into the back of me.
“Excuse me, miss,” the young woman said as she darted around my still form and continued on her way.
Pets.
I knew the princess had her own little menagerie and that the king was partial to golden retrievers.
What if one of the first features of the new social media account was a look at life as a royal pet?
Knowing better but not really caring too much, I practically ran all the way back to Thierry’s office and forced myself to knock instead of barging on in.
“Εισαγω.”
I was beginning to pick up on a few words of the native language and entered when he called for me to do so.
He looked surprised to see me. “Back already?”
“Pets!” When he only raised an eyebrow, I went on, “The royal pets. Can I photograph them and make them a feature on the social media accounts? A peek inside their lives. People adore animals.”
The royal photographer rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger as he considered it. “You’d have to walk a fine line to keep the royal family from looking too frivolous,” he said, his eyes off in the distance as he thought about my idea. “But it’s definitely a good start. I’ll run it by His Majesty when we have a staff meeting later this week. Start with his gardens in the meantime and get that off the list first, and I’ll have an answer for you by Friday.”
I thanked Thierry and was out of his office like the whirlwind I was when I arrived, ideas bouncing around my head as I considered more ways to make the royal family of Cassia more approachable to the wider world.
And keep my mind off a certain duke I couldn’t stop thinking about.