Princess Thief: Stealing Your Heart (19 page)

The
prince and the valet entered the gem room; Armand closed the door.  Guillermo
headed directly for the far corner of the room.  When he saw the empty velvet
mat where the emerald necklace should be, he staggered as if he
’d been punched
in the stomach.

“It’s
gone,” he croaked.

Armand
’s brow
furrowed; he quickly joined the prince at the back of the room.

“It’s
gone,” Guillermo repeated in shock.  “It’s gone and she’s gone with it.”

“It
does appear so, sir,” Armand frowned.

“I
really thought that she was the one,” Guillermo muttered.

“Steady,
sir.  We’ll get to the bottom of this.  I’ll check-”

Armand
was interrupted by a commotion outside the door.  The young guardsman spoke,
“I’m sorry,
miss, but I have orders not to let anyone in.”

Guillermo
stormed across the room and flung the door open.

Juliette
was standing there arguing with the royal guardsman flanked by her two maids,
Alicia and Emilia.

“Juliette!”

“Oh! 
Guillermo!  There you are!” Juliette said.  “I wonder,” she held up the emerald
necklace, “do you think I can wear this to the coronation?”

Guillermo
grabbed her and pulled her close.  He squeezed her tightly and whispered in her
ear,
“I
thought you were gone.”

She
smiled and whispered back,
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Guillermo
pulled back slightly. 
“Wait. 
Why is your hair wet?”

Juliette
replied,
“I’ll
explain later.  Just kiss me already, you fool!”

Guillermo
smiled and kissed her passionately.

“Aww,”
Alicia said.  The two maids began clapping politely.  The guardsman looked
uncomfortable; Armand smiled with relief.  Emilia was overcome with emotion,
wiping away tears with the back of her hand while simultaneously wearing a
happy smile.

“All
right, ladies,” Armand commanded, “We have a coronation
and
a royal wedding
in only
three days
!  Let
’s get back to work!”

“Yes,
sir!”

Lady
Olivia Amsel sat in a leather chair in her drawing room wearing a sour
expression on her face, as if she had just smelled something offensive.  Seated
next to her, Lady Roslynne
Gothieu scooped up a heaping spoonful of sugar from
an ornate porcelain bowl and stirred it into her black tea.

A
nervous maid appeared at the door and announced,
“Countess Marie
Fuensalda
ña has
arrived.”  The maid
curtsied
and quickly departed.  Seconds later, Marie appeared in the doorway, smiling
serenely.

“Marie! 
Where have you been?” Olivia snapped.

“I’m
sorry, Olivia, but things got very busy yesterday, what with your father’s
legislation and all.  I do have some good news, however.  We bought a house!”

“A
house?  Which house?” Olivia demanded.

“This
house.”  Marie’s smile was sublime.

“Th-Th-Th-
This house?!
” Olivia gasped.

Marie
continued,
“Don’t
worry, Olivia; my father doesn’t plan to evict you immediately or anything like
that.  You should have 30 days to get out.”

“Thirty
days!” Olivia shrieked.  “This is my home!”

“
Was
your home,
Olivia,
”
Marie said.  “Now that your father’s financial troubles are well-known within
Parliament, I suspect that other things will go on the market soon as well.  I
hear Senator Bécquer has taken a liking to your summer home in Cannes.”

“This
is outrageous!”

Marie
carried on, unfazed,
“You
can keep your servants, of course, if you can afford them.  Well, all of them
except for Emilia’s father, that is — he will be joining our household
immediately.  But you can keep the rest.”

“How
dare you!”  Olivia was livid.  “This is a personal attack!  I cannot believe
you would side with that flower girl — that, that, Juliette!  None of this
would have happened if it weren’t for her.”

“On
the contrary, Olivia,” Marie countered.  “The way I heard it, Juliette never
would have discovered your secret if you hadn’t gone over to the castle to
gloat.  I mean, I saw you nearly every day and I thought your jewels were real;
I couldn’t tell they were fakes.  Then again, you never leaned over me and hung
them right in my face.”

“Marie,
why you-”  Olivia balled up her fists.  Shaking with rage, she screamed, “Get
out.  Get out!”

“Hey,
Marie,” Roslynne interjected.  “What gives?”

Marie
smiled. 
“You
know what they say:
my
family have been great friends of the monarchy dating back for generations.
”

Roslynne
grimaced and turned her eyes away.

Just
then, the sound of two brief horn honks filled the room.  Marie turned,
“Ah, that’s my
ride.  Sofia and I are going to the beach before she heads back to college. 
Goodbye Olivia, Roslynne.  I’ll see you around.”

“You…
you… traitor!” Olivia called after her.  She snatched the sugar bowl off of the
tea service and followed Marie out into the hall — but the front door was
closed; Marie was already gone.  Nevertheless, Olivia hurled the precious porcelain
bowl at the wooden door, shattering it into a million tiny pieces.

She
spun on her heels and ran down the hall sobbing,
“Daddy?  Daddy?!  Daddy!!!”

*  *  *

Four
days later, a well-rested, suntanned Sofia settled back into her seat and
smiled.  The private jet was virtually empty, save for a businessman three
seats ahead of her, furiously typing away on his laptop.

“Would
you like a pillow, miss?” the stewardess asked her politely.

“No,
thank you,” Sofia smiled.  “I’m quite comfortable.”

“Very
good, miss.  We should be taking off in about twenty minutes.  That would put
us in Paris by…” the stewardess flipped her wrist over and read her watch,
“just before noon.”

“Thank
you.”

“Where
are you headed?” the stewardess asked.

“Back
to college,” Sofia replied.  “In America.”

“Oh,
lucky you,” the stewardess gossiped.  “I’ve always wanted to visit there.  I’ve
got a brother who-”

“Henriette!”
the pilot popped open the cabin door and called out.  “Can we get two
sandwiches up here, please?”

“Coming,”
the stewardess answered.  She shrugged at Sofia in apology and walked away.

Sofia
reached into her backpack and pulled out her tablet.  The wedding videos had
been uploaded to all of the social media sites by now; she tapped the screen
and found the video she was looking for. 
“Wedding of the Century!” the Channel 6
headline declared.  There was Juliette, looking stunning in her long white
bridal gown and silver tiara, standing next to a very happy Guillermo, trying
is best not to look goofy.  Juliette’s raven hair was magnificent; her veil was
delicately woven; she looked like an angel.

The
video cut to Juliette
’s
entrance into the grand cathedral; there was her Uncle François, walking
Juliette majestically down the aisle to give her away, arm in arm, as a string
quartet played a bridal march.  Sofia had never seen a prouder papa.

She
raised the volume as a reporter holding a microphone appeared on screen. 
“But there are
no plans for a honeymoon — not yet, anyway.  The castle has announced that they
will be undertaking a thorough review of the state orphanages in San Morrando. 
And King Guillermo himself will administer vaccines to the children at the
Soldeu de la Casa orphanage tomorrow.”

Sofia
giggled with delight. 
“She
did it!  I don’t know how she did it, but she did.”

For
the first time in weeks, the princess felt relieved.  She could go back to
America knowing that the country was in good hands.