Page 20 of Once Upon A Royal Christmas
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I told you I was sorry. Everyone loves your idea for the contest,” Nick said.
“Everyone besides you.” She slammed her book closed.
“But I’m willing to give it a chance.”
Today was the day. Rows of candy cane-striped tents had popped up along the village square overnight, along with the massive carved ice sculptures that drew crowds of tourists to San Glacera for the annual Christmas market. Tonight Nick would join the royal family to preside over the official opening of the Ice Village, along with his royal blind date, of course.
And the rent-a-princess.
It was happening. All of it.
“Come take a walk with us,” Nick said.
Emilie’s book slid out of her lap and fell onto the floor with a thud. At last, he’d gotten her attention. Mittens’s, too. The little Cavalier’s copper-colored ears pricked forward at the sound of his favorite word.
“Take a walk?” Emilie’s gaze darted toward the castle window, where the peaks of the tents that made up the Christmas market were just visible. Snowflakes danced against the windowpane. “Outside?”
Mittens let out a gleeful yip. They were hitting all the doggie vocabulary highlights.
Nick shrugged one shoulder. “That was the idea.”
He wanted to stroll through the vendor stalls and see for himself what challenges the people of his kingdom were facing. He wanted to walk in the footsteps of his grandfather, who used to take Nick to the opening morning of the market every year for cocoa piled high with marshmallows and a single chocolate kiss at the bottom of his cup. He wanted a chance to see San Glacera at Christmas, the way it had always been….
Before tonight, when it turned into a glorified theme park.
Emilie looked him up and down, and Nick gave a silent prayer of thanks that she couldn’t read his mind. “But you haven’t left the castle since you’ve been back. Like, at all.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Would you, if you’d been the one on the cover of every newspaper in Central Europe?”
“Point taken.” Emilie bit her bottom lip, and any lingering resentment in her expression seemed to soften. “Why now? What’s changed your mind?”
His time was up, whether he wanted it to be or not. It would be nice to leave the palace on his own terms first, though. “I thought it might be fun for you and I to take a look around the market before tonight. Dress down and be regular people.”
Emilie grinned. “You mean like when we used to sneak out of the castle when we were kids? You really think no one will recognize us?”
“Not if we take Mittens.” Nick shot a meaningful glance at his dog. “We’ll practically be invisible by comparison.”
Mittens, like all Cavalier King Charles spaniels, was aggressively adorable. A “sweet, gentle and melting expression” was written right into the official description of the breed in America. Nick’s dog was the canine equivalent of a warm hug.
Better yet, Nick had thus far managed to keep the little squirt out of the press. Sarah Jane hadn’t mentioned his furry companion, lest the dog’s existence make Nick seem in any way warm and fuzzy. Keeping Mittens a secret was probably Nick’s way of keeping a small part of his life to himself. He hadn’t really examined his reasoning for keeping the dog under wraps. It had just sort of happened.
In any event, Mittens’s presence at the market wouldn’t signal that the Crown Prince of San Glacera was nearby, especially if Nick and Emilie were dressed down and on their own, with no royal entourage. Nick’s recent shave and haircut might also help. As far as the public knew, he was still sporting a full snow monster-esque beard. He doubted anyone would notice him.
If they did, he’d survive. He couldn’t hide forever.
“Let’s do it.” Emilie leaped out of her chair, and it was so good to see her smiling at him again that Nick didn’t much care if anyone spotted them out and about. It would be worth it in the end.
Probably.
Minutes later, Nick pulled a cashmere beanie down low over his eyes and Mittens trotted merrily at the end of his dog leash as they exited the castle grounds. Emilie wore pink furry earmuffs and a ponytail high on her head—not the most stealthy disguise.
Still, Nick’s prediction had been spot on. Nearly everyone they encountered on the cobblestone walkways oohed and ahhed over Mittens. Most people stopped in their tracks to give him a pat or a scratch on his head, but not a single passerby made eye contact with Nick or his sister.
“I’m almost insulted,” Emilie said under her breath as they slowed to a stop near the first tent of the Christmas market. “I never realized how easy it would be for a dog to steal my thunder.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “No one is stealing your thunder. I think this is rather fun.”
Of course, it would have been more fun if the village square had been bustling like it usually did during the holidays. It was scarcely recognizable as the same Christmas market where Nick had walked hand in hand with his grandpa when he had been a boy. The change had happened so gradually, year after year, that Nick hadn’t noticed.
