The Marcelli Princess

Life being what it was, the short, friendly, comforting silence didn’t last long. Mia distinctly heard a gasp. She turned just as David swore, and wasn’t the least bit surprised to see a wide-eyed Amber quickly backing out of the kitchen.

David pushed Mia away with a speed that was almost comical. Mia watched him hurry after the woman of his dreams.

She finished with the frosting. Then, despite her earlier hunger for cinnamon rolls, she left them on the counter and climbed the stairs to her room. Once inside, she crossed to the dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer.

There were all kinds of mementos inside. Yearbooks, pictures from school, postcards from everywhere she’d traveled.

She wondered if she should help David explain, then shook her head. Nothing she could say would make a difference. The situation wasn’t actually about her-it was Amber’s inability to trust her fiance and his feelings for her.

Funny how easy it was to see what was wrong with everyone else while she still wrestled with her own demons. Speaking of which…

She pulled out a small jewelry box from a corner of the drawer. Inside was a simple silver ring. Nothing fancy, no stones or engraving. But Diego had bought it for her one afternoon. He’d slipped it on her left ring finger and had kissed her.

“Now you are always mine,” he told her. “For as long as the ring survives, so does our love.”

She’d worn it nearly a year after she’d come back home. Then, after Danny had been born, she’d removed it and stored it away. The love that had been so precious to her was not destined to last.

Or was it? Diego was back, in a different form. The same man, a different person.

Could she trust him? Did he mean what he’d said? Did he want to marry her?

And if so, what did she want? Hadn’t she just spent five years wishing for the impossible-the return of her one true love? Was she going to let him get away just because he happened to be the heir to a throne?

7

“That poor girl,” Grandma Tessa said as she expertly stitched a bead into place on the piece of white satin she held in her hands.

Grammy M rolled her eyes. “She should be more trustin’ of the man she’s marryin’, or she shouldn’t be marryin’ him a-tall.”

“Trust is a tricky thing,” Mia said, hoping to avoid an argument between her grandmothers. There was already enough tension between them about Rafael. “I see her point. I mean, hey, it’s me.”

Grammy M smiled. “You are a special one, Mia, but you’re not all that.”

Mia laughed. “Not all that? Where did you learn that expression.”

“HBO,” Tessa said with a grin. “We watch it all the time.”

“Okay. Now I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” Tessa told her. “Amber is a sensible girl and she loves David. That’s plain to see. But she’s cautious.”

“Why?” Grammy M asked. “David is a good man. She’s lucky to be gettin’ him.”

“Sometimes a little caution is a good thing. A smart woman isn’t taken in by a pretty face, fancy words, and an accent,” said Tessa.

Grammy M put down her piece of white satin. “I suppose you’ll be meanin’ me when you make that remark. As if I could be taken in.”

“You have been. What do we know about Rafael, eh? What he tells us. Charming manners are nice at dinner, but they don’t say anything about his character. Mia is smart to hold back.”

“Okay, I don’t want to get in the middle of this,” Mia said quickly. “Really. Let’s change the subject. How about those grapes? Are they growing or what?”

“I don’t think Mia should go running off with Rafael just because he smiles at her,” Grammy M said, her voice clipped. “I’m saying she should give the man a chance to prove himself before she accepts his proposal.”

There was a moment of perfect silence. Mia paused in the act of reaching for another bead. While her grandmothers sewed on the front of David’s wedding vest, she’d been trusted with two tabs in the back.

She replayed that last sentence, lingering on the final word. How on earth did her grandmothers know about Rafael’s proposal?

There was only one possible explanation. Damn the man. She’d asked him not to say anything. She hadn’t wanted the pressure. She didn’t know what she was going to do herself and she wasn’t looking for advice.

“He told you?” She tossed the tabs onto the table and glared at them both. “He told you?”

“He might have mentioned it in passing,” Grammy M said as she continued to calmly sew.

Mia couldn’t believe it. “How, exactly, does that happen? You’re discussing the weather and you ask if he’s proposed recently, then he chuckles and says as a matter of fact he has?”

Her voice rose with each word until it ended on a shriek.

“Who else knows?” she demanded.

“No one,” Grammy M said soothingly. “It was just the three of us in the kitchen. We were talking about you and how smart you are. Rafael seemed to like that. He mentioned you would be a beautiful and compassionate queen.” She sighed. “Imagine. Our little girl a queen.”

Right then Mia wanted to throw something, which didn’t feel very royal to her. She turned to Grandma Tessa.

“What did you say? Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I think you should get to know the man before making any decisions that take you so far away.”

“Okay, maybe. But doesn’t it bother you that he told you?”

“Not as much as you not telling us,” Tessa said.

Mia sank back into her chair. “I needed to think about it. No, I needed to find out a way to tell him no.”

Grammy M dropped her needle. “No? But he’s the father of your child, Mia. Danny’ll be needin’ a father as he grows up.”

“He has Joe.”

“An uncle isn’t a father.”

Mia looked at Grandma Tessa. “You can’t want me to marry him.”

“I want you to be happy. And sensible.”

“He shouldn’t have told you,” Mia insisted. “It’s not right.”

“We’re your family,” Grammy M said, as if that explained everything.

But it didn’t. Rafael went behind her back. What was up with that? Did he want to pressure her into saying yes?

Even as the thought occurred, she dismissed it. Hello, they were talking about royalty. Princes didn’t need to push women into their lives. Women went willingly.

“I have to go talk to him,” she muttered.

“He’s outside playing with Danny,” Grammy M offered.

Mia waved her thanks and stomped through the kitchen toward the back door. Something about this just didn’t feel right. The word manipulation kept popping into her mind, which seemed both harsh and unfair.

She stepped out into the warm afternoon and immediately heard the sound of childish laughter.

“You’re dead,” Danny said gleefully as he poked at an action figure in Rafael’s hand. “Dead, dead, dead.”

They sat on a blanket in the shade. Around them were the remnants of what had obviously been a hard-fought war. Plastic soldiers lay discarded in heaps. Mia would bet that nearly every military toy had been hauled out for