I smile at my sister. “It’s probably time for me to take it. Thanks for reminding me.”
“I can see those wheels turning in your head. You need to stop torturing yourself.”
“Easier said than done.”
Ivy smiles sadly, wrapping her arms around me. “Everything will work out. That’s what Luca always tells me. So far, he hasn’t been wrong.”
I nod, forcing a smile, but I know the truth. As soon as people find out I’m pregnant and who the father is, my career will be over. I’ll lose my endorsements, and I doubt I’ll ever land another acting gig.
Then, my body will slowly break down over the next ten, fifteen, twenty years.
I’m staring at the face of the grim reaper.
Everything will most definitely not work out.
2
Dante
As soon as I step off the plane, my teeth start clacking. Cold air whips through my thin jacket and chills me to the bone.
It’s not often that I leave the tropical, Caribbean island of Argyle—especially not to come up to somewhere as far north as Farcliff. Nestled between the United States and Canada, just east of the Great Lakes, Farcliff is a stunning country. Lush forests, clear lakes and rivers, healthy wildlife. Farcliff looks like a postcard brought to life.
But damn, it’s cold—and it’s not even November yet.
A driver is waiting next to a luxury sedan. He opens the back door for me, nodding as I slide into the car. I lean back, thankful for heated seats.
The driver gets in, glancing in the rear-view mirror. “Where to, Your Highness?”
I give him the address that Luca provided and then settle in for the drive. I don’t often leave Argyle, so being driven to a strange address in a foreign Kingdom is a rare occurrence for me.
I’m on a recovery mission. Get Luca out of Farcliff and bring him back home.
Since I’ve always hated being in the public eye, King Theo of Argyle, my brother, has given me different responsibilities. I’m able to stay away from the cameras as long as I deal with most of the day-to-day goings-on in Argyle. That leaves him free to travel to other countries and Kingdoms, work on international relations, and be the face of Argyle.
It helps that I’ve always been good with computers. I developed a state-of-the-art security system for the Argyle Palace, upgrading everything tech-related on our royal premises. Now that Beckett is on the run, I’m glad that my family is safe. No one except a select few people know that I’m the one behind the upgrades to the security in the Palace.
Anonymity has its advantages.
For one, I don’t get mobbed if I go outside the palace gates. I can travel unhindered, and I don’t have to deal with lies and stories about me in the media. They call me the ‘reclusive prince,’ but I don’t mind.
I am a recluse.
Another advantage is a situation like this one. With our half-brother Beckett on the run, there are precious few people that we can trust. Theo sent me to Farcliff to bring Luca back to our home Kingdom of Argyle. He’ll be safer at home.
Luca’s girlfriend just re-opened her bakery, but I’m hoping I can convince him to choose safety and common sense. We don’t know who we can trust in Farcliff, so it’s better if they both come back to Argyle.
Typically, I wouldn’t leave my home Kingdom, but things are tense back home, and I was the only one who could make the trip without causing a splash in the media.
Since my face isn’t plastered over every media outlet in the world, and few people know what I actually look like, the task to bring Luca home has fallen to me.
I watch the streets of Farcliff whizz by. People walk quickly with their chins stuffed in their jackets against the cold. It’s getting dark already, and the days are only getting shorter. I’d rather be on a tropical island, that’s for sure.
The driver pulls up outside a tall gate. I can just see the top of a house behind a row of trees. He rolls his window down and reaches for the buzzer, exchanging a few words with a security guard. The gates swing inward, and I’m taken up the driveway to my temporary new home.
Hopefully it has good heating and insulation.
Stepping outside, I nod to the driver as he takes my bag out of the trunk. “I’ll take it from here,” I say.
“Are you sure, Your Highness?” He hesitates, not wanting to hand the suitcase over.