“Valentina—” the king began, but Kelsey cut him off by taking three steps forward, going almost nose to nose with him. Was that even allowed? Was there a personal-space rule that she hadn’t yet been told regarding all persons above her own rank?
Well, tough.
Taking a stand required a little drama. Just a little. She wasn’t going to make a king talk to the hand or anything.
“Pardon me, Your Majesty, but I’m not the baby you lost twenty-five years ago. I’m a grown woman. With my own history, career, and most of all, my own name.”
It got quiet again. Eerily quiet. The lineup of her relatives all wore matching, slightly open mouths and wide eyes. Worst family portrait pose ever, but Kelsey wasn’t worried. She didn’t regret one bit drawing that line in the sand. The only thing she did regret was the flicker of utter sadness that sort of melted across the king’s face.
It was gone in a matter of seconds, though.
Christian finally saved the day. “Why don’t we all agree to call you Kelsey while we get to know each other? The staff were already commanded to use that name in order to help keep your return under wraps. We can discuss how to address you formally when it’s closer to the announcement.”
Her father nodded. “That’s acceptable. I may slip up a time or two, but it will be purely by accident, I promise. I’ve had a picture of you in my head, a certain way, for a very long time.”
Kelsey would take the compromise. For now. “And I’ve been this version of myself my whole life. Changing on a dime will be a challenge for all of us, I imagine.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Lo and behold, the king reached out one hand and gave her a gentle pat on the arm. If he could bend, so could she.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Crap. How long did you have to know your dad before it was okay to lie to him? The answer was probably well north of the ten minutes that totaled her relationship with the king. “Well, I did, but only to make sure you heard me, loud and clear.”
“There’s a good chance the gardeners in the fountain court heard you,” Genevieve sniped.
Kelsey had earned her win for the morning. She’d let that one slide. Turning to Christian, she asked, “Uh, what announcement?”
“The official announcement to the world of the return of the missing Villani princess. It will be in two weeks.”
Her grandmother sighed. “It would be nice to have more time to prepare, but there’s little chance of keeping the secret any longer.”
“Official? You mean a press release?”
“An official edict,” the king corrected. “As well as an introduction to Parliament, and a formal reassumption of your place in the royal family.”
Every time Kelsey thought she’d caught her breath, another big wallop of information left her panting in surprise.
What happened to easing into the whole family thing first? Icebreakers, maybe. Whatever the royal version of that was—croquet and tea? Why didn’t she have the chance to get to know these utter strangers who claimed her as theirs before worrying about the rest of the freaking country?
So she only had two weeks to decide whether or not to do this? To take on this whole other life and leave the one she knew—and loved—behind? Tackling the problem of being— becoming—a princess in less time than it took for cottage cheese to spoil?
That was it. Kelsey couldn’t stand here and listen to any more without hard-core help. “Is there any possible way we could finish this over coffee? The stronger, the better?”
Chapter Five
Elias didn’t pace.
He’d learned to march in his Navy training, and learned to be preternaturally still as part of his bodyguard training. Pacing, however, was frowned on by both sectors. So he stood, hands behind his back, a full three, “I’m not at all trying to eavesdrop” paces away from the doors to the throne room.
But in his head? He was making more circles than a pup trying to chase its own tail.
Meeting a member of the royal family intimidated most people. They intimidated most citizens of Moncriano, who’d lived their whole lives seeing the Villanis on the balcony of their palace, in their box at the theatre, and waving and shaking hands at hundreds of events a year. They were a known commodity here, and still people stuttered and blushed and went all wide-eyed when a royal gave them attention.
Kelsey was not used to seeing them. She wasn’t used to even thinking about royalty. In the short time Elias had known her, it had been quite clear that she had a spine and a mouth, and the two in tandem could be formidable. Enough to stand up and be herself in front of the king?
Elias wasn’t sure. He was, in fact, worried. And full of guilt for sending her in there by herself—not that he’d had a choice. It wasn’t as if he could claim that he needed to protect her during a private audience with her own relatives.
Although he did, because Genny could be an intolerable bitch when rubbed the wrong way. And the grand duchess could be downright frightening when crossed. Elias was certain that some part of Kelsey’s very American-ness would end up making her grandmother very cross.
The doors opened. Instead of waiting for the footman to open them all the way, Kelsey twisted her body to slide through the narrow crack. Elias sprang to attention and gave a brief nod, prepared to bow if the rest of the family came out.
But the doors closed behind her.
Great. They’d all stayed behind to discuss her. Probably to judge her, given the circumstances. Hopefully, Christian would be a voice of reason.
“Your Highness.” Elias stepped in front of her.
“Hi.” The tight purse of her lips lifted into a full-blown smile. And the force of it was like a warm rain shower. “You waited for me?”
“Of course.”
“Of course?” Just as quickly, the smile fell away. Kelsey moved around him and slowly started walking down the hallway. “Oh. Because it’s your job to be my shadow.”
“To a certain extent. I’m not the only member of your protection detail.” Elias pitched his voice lower as they passed another set of footmen at the doors to the king’s private audience chamber. “But I would’ve stayed here regardless. In case you required…anything…upon finishing your audience.”
“Anything, huh? In that case, is it too early for a cocktail? Not even a fancy one. Just line up the shot glasses and keep ’em coming. There must be a bar somewhere in this town that’s open.”
“It’s not even ten a.m. yet. I’m afraid we’re not Las Vegas.”
“Ooh, way to go with dropping a geographically perfect cultural reference.” The teasing lilt in Kelsey’s voice proved that whatever had happened to her in the throne room, she was bouncing back already.