sure many other hotel owners will be upset at the new tourist attraction we’ve created. And the prices will surely go up here. However, since you do not know the rules yet, we might as well break them quickly.”
I couldn’t comment as we were right in front of the entrance doors, and the press were like bloodhounds waiting for meat outside the doors held back by security. I felt my stomach began to turn.
When the doors opened, the screaming began, and the flashes nearly blinded me.
“Hold on to me tightly,” Gale whispered as we pushed our way out. Though the guards could stop their bodies, their questions were never-ending.
“Odette! When did you first meet the prince?”
“Prince Galahad, why her?”
“Odette, are you still going to sing?”
“Prince Galahad, what about your rumored affairs with Sabina Franziska?”
“What does the king think of this relationship?”
“When is the wedding?”
“Where is the ring?
“Odette, how do you feel about becoming the future queen?”
“What do you even know of Ersovia?”
“Odette, you will be the first black queen in Europe, any comment?”
“Was money involved in this?”
“Do you think the people will accept you?”
“Do not listen to them. Just keep walking.” Gale’s voice was the only gentle one.
“Prince Galahad, are you happy Arthur is dead so you can be king?”
At that, Gale stopped for only a second, but I pulled him away before he did what I knew he wanted to do—shove that camera down the throat of whoever had said it.
I pulled hard, and we managed to get into the car. Iskandar shut the door behind Gale. When he did, I could see Gale’s face turning red, his grip on me tightening to the point my hand trembled.
“Gale. Gale, you are hurting me.”
“What?” He pulled himself from his thoughts, only then noticing his hand. “Forgive me,” he said, letting go quickly.
“Are you all right?” I whispered, putting my hand on his lap. “What they said.”
“It will only get worse until they get the reaction they want,” he muttered, his face pale. “Welcome to royalty.”
“Don’t scare me. I am always looking to run, remember?” I tried to joke, but their words must have gotten to him because he wasn’t having it.
“Now that they have your name, Odette, they will never forget or let you off,” he whispered back. “I want you here, but I fear I just damned you also.”
I leaned closer, very close, to the point where he could only look at me strangely, not understanding. With a straight face and stern eyes, I said, “Fâlipüks.”
He stared back, his face shaking until he couldn’t hold it any longer and snorted then broke out laughing. And it made me feel so much better to hear it. “That should be an insult, but when you say it with that accent, it is hilarious.”
“Do not make fun of my accent.”
“You make fun of mine.”
“I make fun of the words you use to speak, not the accent.”
“Waskāds.” He rolled his eyes.
I sounded out the word again. But I couldn’t figure it out. “What does that mean?”
“Whatever.”
I frowned. “But what and ever together do not make that in Ersovian.”
“Every language has slang, Odette.” He smiled and held my cheek. “Do not worry. I will personally teach you...at night.”
From the look in his eye, he did not seem to have teaching in mind.
“Waskāds.”
Chapter 6
The palace looked huge from far away, but when parked three feet in front of it, the palace looked like the place only fancy giants would live. The columns were bigger than me. No, forget the columns, the windows were bigger than me. And as if the building itself wasn’t intimidating, the men and women—six maids, four butlers, eight guards, one dog in the arms of one princess, and a queen standing at the center—standing outside, waiting at the doors, was a lot to take in.
“Odette. Odette?”
“Hmm?” My head whipped back to Gale.
“This is part of a tradition. When a prince brings his future bride to the palace for the first time, she is met by the queen, her other children, and her staff. You are to give her flowers—”
“I didn’t bring flowers, Gale.” Panic shot through me.
“I did,” he said, and Iskandar lifted the bouquet of four different types of flowers. “Do you remember these?”
“Red roses for renowned beauty and grace, the white peony for prosperity and good fortune, the golden Stella de Oro daylily, which symbolizes the morning star—the sun—the symbol of new life, valor, and justice,” I said. Still, the last one he never gave to me. “A black