**Huge thanks to @vizirs for the incredible new cover!**
An Unwanted Guest
"Look at this one, Giules!" I spun at the sound of my mother's excited tone, finding her holding a pale blue dress up to her body.
I grinned. "It's pretty, Mom." She examined her reflection in the mirror, the dress still held up to her chest. It was actually relatively plain, as dresses go, but that was typical of my mother's shopping style. She never had the money for fancy things before meeting my father, and still had the tendency to avoid the needlessly extravagant, even now, with more money at her disposal than her younger self could have ever imagined.
"I'm going to buy it," she announced, and a very bored Lance leapt at the chance for something to do, rushing forward to take the garment from her hands, to which she responded with a warm smile.
I only chuckled quietly, still smiling myself. A one-on-one outing with my mother had become all too rare of late, this being the first one since finding out about her pregnancy nearly a month and a half ago. I knew, of course, that the moment her lady's maid, Eden, caught sight of the dress when we returned, that she would call up the best seamstresses in the castle to add beading or embroidery of some kind to make it a gown more befitting a queen. But for now, I was just relishing this happy, peaceful moment together.
We perused the racks for a few minutes more, before paying for the dress and exiting back out onto the busy street.
Many stopped to point and wave at our little trio as we strolled down the cobblestone walkway. My mother never failed to smile and wave back.
We dipped into another little shop, this one filled with hand-crafted wooden objects of all shapes and sizes. My mother spotted a collection of cradles in the back, and Lance trudged after her, the bags in his hands swaying with each step. I hung back, glancing around the room, before meandering to the opposite end, and peering into the glass case there. Inside, was a lone dagger, the blade made from some kind of dark metal. The hilt was made of shining, polished, cherry colored wood. Intricate vines were etched into the wood, twining delicately down the length, leading to a pommel carved in the shape of the head of a wolf, teeth bared in a snarl. It was beautiful and cruel in an enticing sort of way that I found myself unable to look away from.
When I finally managed to tear my eyes from the weapon, I took a step back, realizing that I had drawn close to the glass in my inspection. I bumped into a hard chest. "Woah there, careful now, princess," came a familiar velvety voice, warm breath whispering against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver dancing down my spine. My own breath caught in my throat and I spun to find myself face to face with Angelo, amusement sparkling in his bright eyes.
Before I could make a show of putting distance between us, he stepped around me to peer inside the glass case, taking a moment to inspect the dagger that I had been so engrossed by. He chuckled, turning back around to look at me, "Why am I not surprised by that?"
I rolled my eyes, glancing over my shoulder to make sure we were out of my mother and Lance's lines of sight, and crossed my arms over my chest. "What are you doing here?"
He clucked his tongue in a reproachful manner as he wagged a finger. "Now, now," he cooed, "let's be polite. First, I believe, you are supposed to ask how I've been since you last saw me."
I narrowed my eyes, unamused, "What are you doing here?"
He evaded my question again, asking in the same teasing tone, "Did I miss a sign on the door that says this shop is for royals only? Or is it only closed to peasants on Sunday's? I'll admit adjusting to your culture has been a bit challenging for me, there's still much to learn."
I grit my teeth in annoyance, but didn't get the chance to reply.
"Giules!" My mother called, voice slightly muffled by the rows of shelves between us, "You should come look at this–" Her sentence broke off as she rounded the corner to find Angelo and I standing near the glass display case. "Oh, pardon me, I didn't mean to intrude."
I was too busy trying to squash the sudden dreadful feeling of being caught in the act to immediately respond to her words, but I did make sure to take a half step forward, placing my frame more fully between her body and his.
Luckily, Angelo recovered from his own shock at seeing my mother faster than I did. He flashed her a disarming smile, all charm, "It was no intrusion at all, Your Majesty," he said smoothly, adopting a near-perfect Lupian accent, "Actually, I believe it is myself who actually owes you an apology for disrupting your day with your lovely daughter. She is a close friend of mine, I just wanted to say hello."
It was all I could do to hold back my distaste at his use of the word friend, but his excuse was innocent enough to not raise more questions. I plastered a fake smile on my lips and nodded in validation of what he said. If the quick surprised look he shot me was anything to go by, I'd say he was pleased by my small act of cooperation.
Don't get used to it, I thought bitterly.
My mother returned his smile with one of her own, stepping around me and holding out a hand, "It's very nice to meet you, Mr.–?" she let the words trail off in a question, waiting for him to fill in the missing information.
He studied her outstretched hand for only a moment, but that lone moment was all it took to set my nerves on edge, especially with the two of them standing so close. "Just Angelo," he replied, finally taking her small hand in his and giving it a gentle shake, "and the pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty."
Satisfied, she turned to me, "Giules, I wanted to get your opinion on one of the pieces over there before we leave, if you don't mind." She gave Angelo another warm smile, "Any close friend of Giuliana's is a friend of Lupia, I would be honored if you joined us today."
He bowed politely in thanks, and in any other situation, I might have allowed myself a moment to be pleasantly surprised at the practiced grace of the action. It almost looked like he had been professionally taught to do it. Almost. But instead, I was too busy watching the conversation unfold in mute horror, trying my hardest to keep the emotion from my face.
My mother turned and walked back the way she came, likely back to wherever Lance must be stationed with our bags. I wasted no time turning on Angelo, "Don't you dare!"
He held up his hands in mock innocence, "What?"
I stepped forward until there were only inches between us, looking him deep in those electric blue eyes, "I swear to you, if you harm a single hair on her head, there won't be a bond in existence, Goddess-sent or otherwise, that can protect you from me."
He stared at me a moment, that amused glint back in his eye, then he took a half-step forward. I had to quickly take a step back to avoid our noses bumping together. He smirked.
I leveled a glare at him.
He put his hands up again in surrender, irritating smirk still in place on his lips, "I'm not here to harm your mother, I promise." Then he turned and began strolling away.
I followed after him, "Where do you think you're going?"
He threw a glance at me over his shoulder, "Didn't you hear? I've been personally invited to join the queen today."
I grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him to a stop and making him face me, "I don't know what your plan is here, but don't do it. Just turn around and go now, it's not too late." I realized his sleeved forearm was still tightly gripped in my hand, and quickly dropped it before I could think too much about how good he felt beneath my fingers. This wasn't the time.
He rolled his eyes, adjusting the sleeve on the arm that I had been holding, "There is no plan. I already told you, I'm not here to hurt your mother."
I met his eyes and held his gaze firmly, "Then turn around and go."
He tilted his head. "Or what?" He asked, once again clearly amused at my expense.
I grit my teeth. That was a very good question. Or what? He already knew that I wouldn't turn him in. While I debated over the question, he began walking away again.
I hurried after him, "Wait! I'm serious, you can't exp–" but by then he had already disappeared from view around the corner. Two steps later, I had rounded the corner as well, and caught sight of my mother smiling at his approach. It was too late.
All I could do now was watch the nightmare unfold.
When I joined them where they stood with Lance, my mother immediately dove into showing two exquisitely carved baby cradles to us. I tried my hardest to pay attention to what she was saying, to the various things she liked and disliked about each, but none of the information seemed to want to stick. My focus lingered, instead, on Angelo, though I tried to be as discreet as possible about that fact.
I kept him in my peripheral vision, monitoring him like a hawk, waiting for any sudden movements. Every step my mother took was met by an adjustment of my own stance as I tried desperately to keep myself positioned squarely between them without drawing attention.
The owner of the store joined us at one point, reiterating some of the better selling-points for each. He was a squat man with pink cheeks, who's forehead seemed to be glistening with a fresh sheen of sweat, but he informed us that he was the artist behind the carvings in the shop. Though she had already stated most of the information he was sharing herself just moments ago, she nodded her head along to him, feigning rapt attention. When he finished she turned to me, asking for my opinion. I chose one at random, having not paid enough attention to have a real opinion, even after hearing the information twice. To my surprise, she asked for Angelo's opinion as well, though he chose the opposite cradle. Even more surprising, unlike me, he actually had a valid, well thought out reasoning behind his pick. I almost forgot to hide my shock.
It turned out that she and Lance had already cast their votes for Angelo's pick before she had gone to retrieve me, making it a three to one vote against my choice. As she and Lance followed the owner to the register to pay, I hung back to shoot Angelo another glare. He smirked, shooting me a wink as he trailed after the rest of our group. Bastard.
Back outside, we strolled leisurely down the street, peering in windows as we passed. Angelo slowed his pace until some distance had been created between us and where my mother was walking ahead with Lance. Before he could speak, I beat him to it, "What is it that you want, Angelo?"
"I just want to help the royal family to shop. If that is a crime in your country, then I was unaware of it," he said with feigned innocence.
I only continued to glare in response.
A dimple popped up on his cheek, though if not for that I might not have noticed him trying to hold back a wry smile, "Is it really so bad for a man to spend a day with his own ma–"
"Don't use that word in public!" I cut him off quickly in a panicked whisper, looking around to make sure nobody heard.
He only chuckled, shaking his head, dimple still on prominent display.
My mother and Lance ducked into a bakery before I could think of something witty to say to wipe the little smirk from his face, and Angelo and I both quickened our paces to catch up. Before I had even crossed the threshold, the sweet smell of baked goods reached my nose, reminding me of afternoons spent in the kitchen at home baking alongside my mother. Inside, she was already deeply engrossed with conversation with the head chef and owner of the bakery. They motioned for us to sample the various treats they had set out for us, never once breaking conversation.
Angelo and I both eagerly obliged, though I was careful to only sample the various cakes and tarts that were between him and my mother.
After a moment, I realized that he was still nibbling on the very first sliver of cake that he had cut for himself. When I looked at him, his eyes were intensely focused across the room. More specifically, on where my mother stood conversing with the baker. I stiffened in dread-filled anticipation of what may come.
But I didn't see the contempt in his eyes that I had expected to see when he looked at her, not a single flicker of disgust, just unmistakable curiosity. It gave me pause.
I looked to where she stood, heightening my hearing just enough to tune into her conversation. She was laughing, "I've told you countless times over the years, Corbin, to you, it's just Rose."
The man grimaced slightly in response, but nodded reluctantly anyway, "Of course, Your Maj– er, Rose. How can I make it up to you?"
She smiled demurely. "Well, you do know I've been pining after your apple tart recipe for decades. It is the best in the entire kingdom, after all," she hinted, with another light laugh.
He winced, looking genuinely sorry, though the corner of his lip tilted up, "I'm afraid I have to keep that particular recipe close to heart, it's a family tradition."
My mother sighed dramatically, "Such a shame, I'll break you down eventually, Corbin, I know it." She smoothed down the skirts of her dress, "In that case I'll just take my usual apple tart and be on my way."
I turned my attention back to Angelo to find him already looking at me. I held his gaze, searching his eyes for anything that would help me understand him. Perhaps he is someone that's not meant to be understood. The thought did nothing to silence the burning desire to understand, as I gazed into those deep, blue pools.
He turned his eyes to my mother as she approached, clutching the box containing the apple tart to her chest for only a moment before Lance caught up and pried it gently from her grasp. She wasted no time in turning and asking bluntly, "Would you like to join us for dinner, Angelo?"
I was quicker with my wit this time than I had been earlier today, the lie easily finding my lips, "I'm sure he appreciates the invitation, Mom, but he was just telling me outside that he has dinner planned with his father tonight," I angled my body so she couldn't see my face and shot him a victorious smirk.
He looked surprised for only a moment before it turned to smug amusement. His response came just as fast, "Actually, princess," he corrected my lie with one of his own, tone light, "if you remember, I said that my plans with my father are for tomorrow night. I'd love to join you for dinner, Your Majesty."
What is happening? So much could go wrong. This was bad. A nightmare. Awful. Terrible. Horrendous.
"Wonderful," my mother beamed.
~*~*~
Hey Everyone!
Hope everyone is doing well. I apologize for posting this chapter a day late, with everything going on in my country right now, it has been very difficult for me to separate myself from reality enough to be able to write without it taking HOURS to do with multiple breaks in between to read various news and fact-check articles. That said, I'm still going to shoot for the usual Wednesday for next weeks chapter.
As always, COMMENT/VOTE/SHARE to let me know what you think of my story!
And don't forget to follow my account for updates on my story progress for both NMF and INC!
Most importantly, STAY SAFE out there, guys
Xx Ren