“Make sure you still love me, if I’m just a nobody instead of a future duke.”
He held his breath, waiting for her reaction. Sam stared at him for a moment, then tipped her head back and laughed.
“Hey, that wasn’t funny! I’m not joking!” Marshall protested.
“Marshall, that might be the silliest thing you’ve ever said. Of course I’ll still love you,” she promised. “I would love you no matter who you were: a farmer, a firefighter, a high school water polo coach—”
“Oh, good thinking. I should look into being a water polo coach,” he agreed.
“I’m just saying, it’s you that I love, not your titles.” She hesitated, then added, “I like to think that we would’ve found each other eventually, even if we were ordinary people. That we would have crossed paths and known right away that we were meant for each other.”
“Maybe not right away. You were a little bossy at the start,” Marshall teased.
“Just at the start?” she replied.
Hand in hand, they headed back toward the main house.
“So, if we actually went to Hawaii, what would we do?”
Sam knew what he meant: If they were no longer training for the roles their families had given them, who would they be? How would they find purpose?
“Well, when she ran away, Aunt Margaret worked at a boat-rental company.”
Marshall made a strangled noise. “Pass.”
“Prince Franz himself opened a beach bar.”
“Better, but still a pass.”
She glanced over. “You told me that you want to teach your kids to surf someday. In the meantime, you could teach other kids. And me,” she added. “I’m a terrible surfer.”
“I’ve never understood that! From what I hear, you’re a great snowboarder.” He paused. “And what will you be doing, aside from learning to surf?”
Making friends, Sam thought. Meeting people who would treat her not as a princess but just as a woman named Samantha. Reading some of the hundreds of books Nina was always texting her about. Making sandcastles, exploring, leading ATV tours or scooping ice cream behind a counter.
Whatever she did, she would be figuring out who she was. Who they both were, free of the obligations and duties they’d always taken for granted.
“I don’t know what I’ll do, but it doesn’t matter,” she told him. “As long as I’m there with you.”
They reached her bedroom on the second floor just in time. There was a series of notes from a trumpet; then the first rockets of the fireworks rose into the air. Sam and Marshall headed to the windows and threw them open, staring out at the horizon.
The fireworks were a thunderous burst of color, cherry red and electric blue and a vivid gold. The sky looked like it was on fire, as if the world had suddenly become as bright as noon. On and on it went, pinwheels and comets exploding into the darkness.
When the show finally ended in a shower of sparks, a hush fell over the crowd.
Sam went to her desk, grabbed a sheet of her embossed stationery, and began writing a note.
Bee,
Sorry I’m leaving without saying goodbye. I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I haven’t changed my mind. I’m all in. So for now, I need to stop being the Princess of America, and just be Samantha.
I promise I’ll be safe. Thank you for understanding, and for letting me choose love over duty.
Love, Sam
Marshall came to stand behind her. “ ‘I’m all in’?” he asked, reading aloud.
“Tonight, when I asked for Beatrice’s advice, she told me I needed to decide whether I’m all in. If I’m willing to give up everything for you.” Sam turned around to face him. “And the answer is yes. I am.”
“You told Beatrice that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late. My ego is already inflating, like the Grinch’s heart, growing three sizes too large.”
Sam folded the note, planning to leave it here for Beatrice to find, and Marshall’s smile faded.
“Wait.” He untwisted the golden bear pin from the front of his jacket and handed it to Sam. “Put this with the note, so she knows that I’m all in, too.”
“In that case…” Sam gestured to the tiara atop her head. Marshall swallowed, but helped her remove the pins anchoring it in place. He set it delicately atop the folded paper.
The tiara glittered like fire, matched by the golden gleam of the bear pin. His inheritance, and hers.
It hit Sam all over again in that moment—the sheer magnitude of what they were leaving behind. Centuries of history, and family, and legacy.
She loved Marshall more than all of it.
“We’re really doing this, aren’t we.” He sounded both excited and fearful.
Sam’s heart thudded wildly, but when she looked up at Marshall, she was grinning. “Yeah. We’re really doing this.”
The remaining partygoers were still milling around outside, the sounds of laughter and increasingly rowdy music mingling with the outraged exclamations of guests who weren’t ready to leave.
Beatrice cast another glance around the terrace but didn’t see Teddy. They still hadn’t spoken since their conversation in the hallway. They had just circled the party all night like a pair of polarized magnets, never getting too close, each always aware of the other’s territory.
She headed upstairs and knocked on the door that connected their bedrooms. A moment later, she heard rustling sounds from Teddy’s side.
“Teddy? Can we talk?”
When he threw open the door, she saw that he’d changed into jeans and a long-sleeved Henley shirt, and that his shoes were on, as if he planned on going somewhere.
“Hey, Beatrice,” he said warily.
She started to step inside, but when she saw his closed-off expression, she stayed in the doorway.
“First of all, I wanted to thank you for tonight,” she began, striving for upbeat and casual. Maybe if she acted like this wasn’t a big deal, Teddy wouldn’t either. “It meant a lot to me that you stayed at the party, after everything.”
“I promised that I would host the party with you, and I don’t go back on my promises,” he said stiffly. “That’s why I’m the one you picked out of your parents’ binder, isn’t it? Because you knew I’d be good at the job?”