“Yes. But I think I know how to prove to him that I’m here to stay. That I’m putting my heart into Cara.”
“Okay. How?” Jonah asks.
“I need a wife.”
When I say it out loud, it seems like an even better idea.
There is a long pause. Neither of them say anything.
Then Jonah says, “No.”
I frown up at him. “What?”
“No. You’re not marrying Linnea even if it’s fake.”
I shake my head, frowning. “I’m not talking about Linnea.”
He scowls at me. “Then who?”
“Someone special.” My thoughts are spinning. Oh, yes, I like this. “Someone who will see Cara for the amazing place it is, with lots of potential for more. Someone who will commit themselves to our country in a way that will impress my grandfather the way Linnea has. Someone so incredible, that I can convince my grandfather, and the media, she is the reason I’ve been going back to the States so often for the past two years. Someone who I can seem so in love with that the king will believe I’ve brought my heart here and that I’m ready to settle down, put down roots, and truly stay.”
I pick up the bottle of lavender oil and take a long inhale.
Jonah and Linnea are both watching me with wide eyes.
“But…” Linnea starts. “You are ready to settle down here and put down roots…right?”
“I am. But the king isn’t seeing it. Me saying it is obviously not enough. So I need to give him something more apparent to prove it.”
Yes, this is a good plan.
Linnea looks up at Jonah, then back to me. “So you want to find someone to fake marry you?” she asks.
“No. Real marry me. It has to be real.” My grandfather could easily verify something like that if he suspected I was doing it only to get the throne.
“So you need to find a girlfriend and get her to fall in love with you and agree to marry you in the next six months,” Jonah says.
Okay, yes. Love would be great. And to him and Linnea, that doesn’t sound crazy because it’s essentially what happened to them. He was supposed to help find her another guy to fall in love with so my grandfather would drop the idea that she and I would get married.
I didn’t mean for him to fall in love with her. Or vice versa. Because…well, I didn’t see that coming.
And because it’s made things complicated. Jonah doesn’t have the…pedigree…that my grandfather will accept for a husband for Linnea. And if he finds out that Jonah is wrecking all the plans he has for me and Linnea, he will be so pissed.
“Sure,” I finally say. “Let’s try that.” I finally look up at my friends. They’re both watching me with wide eyes. But neither is saying this is a bad idea. “You think this is a good idea?” I ask.
“I think you being king is a good idea,” Linnea says. “Your grandfather needs to step down. He deserves to rest. He also deserves the peace of knowing that his beloved Cara is in good hands. He deserves to see you being a good king. You deserve the chance to show him that. I’d love to see the two of you mend your relationship.” She meets my eyes, and I see her sincerity. “But I don’t think that will happen until he steps aside, and you have the actual chance to lead. So yes, if you’re ready to fall in love and get married then I think this plan is…not terrible.”
I clap my hands together as I rise. “Wonderful. Then let’s go get our princess.”
“Wait,” Jonah says. “You have someone in mind?”
I grin. Then I lean over and click on a file on my desktop. Then I step back and point at my monitor.
Jonah and Linnea both lean in.
Then Jonah looks at me. “Uh…that’s Abigail Landry.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Abigail Landry doesn’t like you.”
“That’s a bit of an overstatement,” I say.
“Well…she didn’t seem to really be into you,” Jonah amends.
I tuck my hands into my pockets. “That will change when she finds out that I have something she wants.”
Jonah straightens and faces me. “And what’s that?”
“Her dream job.”
Did her comment about hating her job when we danced intrigue me enough to look into her? Yes. Have I now learned everything about her in the past two years? Yes. Does that make me a stalker? No. Obsessed? Maybe.
“What’s her dream job?” Linnea asks.
“Eliminating world hunger,” I say. It’s a very simple summary of the things that Abigail Landry studies, works on, writes about, and wants to do.
I go on when they just stare at me. “Specifically, she wants to build indoor farms in food deserts and supply fresh food to people, especially children, year-round regardless of climate and terrain.”
They just blink at me.
“Cara is a food desert,” I say. “We can’t grow anything here! Our soil is too thin and rocky, and our weather is too cool and windy. We import everything. It’s terrible for our economy and our ability to be independent and have strong national relations.”
“So you think she’ll want to come here because this is the perfect place to do her work and you, as the prince, can give her all the resources she could possibly need,” Linnea says.
“Exactly,” I give her a smug grin. I mean, I hope the chemistry between us is part of it too, but yeah, giving her a chance to do her life’s work on an international stage won’t hurt. The woman is passionate about what she does, and she did tell me she hated her job two years ago. She’s with the same company. I can only hope it still sucks.
That sounds bad. I don’t want her to be miserable.
Unless it means she’ll marry me.
Surely being my princess is a step up from miserable.
“If it will keep the king and the country from looking at Linnea as the next queen, then I’m on board,” he says. “The sooner you are on the throne, the sooner Linny and I can come out and be a couple in public without worrying about how the king will react.”
He’s got a point. King Diarmuid might still be pissed when he finds out, but he won’t be able to fire Jonah or banish either of them if I’m king.
“Then we’re all in agreement,” I say.
“We are,” Jonah says. “And if we leave in the next two hours, we can get there just in time.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Louisiana. For a wedding.” Jonah grins. He rounds the desk and takes Linnea’s hand, starting for the door.
“Torin’s wedding?” Linnea asks.
Jonah looks back at me. “Maybe. But first…Amelia Landry is getting married this weekend.”
Amelia. Ami. Abigail’s other sister.
Obviously, that means Abigail will be in Autre this weekend.
She rarely is. In all of the times I’ve been back to Louisiana, we’ve never run into each other again.
Which is fine. She’s not interested, so that’s that.
But, if I had ever run into her, I would have asked her why she isn’t interested.
That just doesn’t really happen to me. Women like me. Hell, most people like me.
My grandfather, and Abigail Landry, are truly the only exceptions to that rule I can really think of.
I look down at Abigail’s photo on my computer screen. God, she’s so fucking beautiful. And brilliant. And amazing.
And I’m still thinking about her two years later.
So yes, I’m going to Louisiana for a wedding.
And to get myself a princess.
