Page 36 of Once Upon A Royal Christmas
Nick walked from the shadows into the luxury box, waving at the people gathered below. Their reaction was substantially less enthusiastic than it had been when Princess Snowflake arrived on the scene. He was met with scattered applause and a half-hearted standing ovation that only managed to make its way through about a third of the crowd.
Ouch.
Nick tried to breathe, but it felt like a tight band had been placed around his ribs, squeezing out all the air in his lungs. So this was what being instantly and acutely humbled felt like.
Nick didn’t much care for it. Would the audience be more impressed if he pulled a snowflake from his sleeve?
Somehow, he doubted it.
He sat ramrod straight as the king and queen took their seats, doing his best not to pay attention to whatever adorableness Princess Snowflake was up to. But his gaze kept finding her, no matter how hard he tried to ignore her overly bedazzled presence.
“Thoughts?” His father cast a pointed look at Gracie.
“She’s got quite a way with children,” Nick said, an understatement if there ever was one. The royal box was situated high above the square, where Gracie mingled with the crowd in front of the village Christmas tree. Even from this distance, he’d been able to spot tears in a young girl’s eyes as Gracie had spoken to her.
“She does, indeed. The adults appear to be charmed by her, too.” The king slid a glance at Nick. “Are you ready to admit your sister was right about all of this?”
On a personal level, yes. Obviously. Nick had certainly been charmed.
But as part of the kingdom’s leadership? He still wasn’t convinced. This was one night in December. They still had no real idea if her snow queen act would have any impact whatsoever on holiday tourism.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” Nick said under his breath.
He glanced over his shoulder at Emilie, seated in the second row. As heir, Nick always sat beside the reigning monarch. When he’d been a little boy and his grandfather was king, Nick’s father sat in this very chair. Nick could remember begging to sit in his father’s place in order to be closer to his beloved grandpa. The answer had always been no because tradition reigned supreme.
Tradition was important. It’s what gave everyone who lived in San Glacera a sense of comfort and belonging. And now here they were, breaking with tradition in the most flashy, sentimental way possible. What would Christmas look like next year? And the year after that?
He tried to catch Emilie’s gaze. They needed to talk, but Nick may as well have been invisible. She had stars in her eyes as she watched Gracie down below.
He faced forward again, eyes trained on Gracie’s megawatt smile. As role models went, he had to admit she wasn’t the worst. No one had ever spoken to Nick like she had earlier. She was determined, he’d give her that. And she certainly wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself. Beneath all that sparkle and cheer was a snowflake made of steel.
She glanced up at him, and time stood still for a moment as their eyes met. Nick became acutely aware of his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears like a drum. He tried to avert his gaze and couldn’t. When she turned away, a cold breeze washed over him, and his gaze remained fixed on the delicate rhinestone snowflake barrettes that glittered in her upswept hair.
He swallowed and swiveled to face his father. “Have we gotten any concrete numbers from Jaron yet about the Christmas market?”
The king shook his head and answered without taking his eyes off the action below. “It’s too early, son. We’ll know something soon enough.”
“And do you have plans to talk to the visiting royals from Vernina about extending the peace treaty between our two kingdoms?” They still had another year remaining on the fifty-year agreement, but while the king and queen were in San Glacera, it seemed like the perfect time to discuss an extension.
His father didn’t respond for a full minute, leaving Nick to wonder if he’d heard the question.
“Father?” he prompted.
“Son.” The king turned kind eyes on him. “It’s Christmas. Perhaps just take a minute and let things go.”
This was the way things had always been with his dad. His father never hesitated when it came to things like teaching him to ride a bicycle or attending his school functions. But the minute Nick wanted to talk about anything involving the kingdom, Dad shut down. For all of Nick’s life, his father had let King Noël take the reins when it came to preparing Nick to be king someday.
Now his grandpa was gone, and Nick had been trying to elbow his way into matters of state for the better part of a year. Thus far, it wasn’t working.
He stiffened beside his father.
Nick didn’t feel like letting things go. He couldn’t. The last time he’d let his guard down, he’d ended up on the news and he was still paying for it a year later. Letting go wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Just tonight, he’d come dangerously close to doing so again, and look what had happened—he’d accidentally made a date with a dress-up character.
It was so preposterous that it was almost funny.
Gracie blew into the palm of her hand and tiny iridescent snowflakes filled the air. From where Nick sat, it was hard to tell the fake snow flurries from the real deal. The Ice Festival had officially begun, and San Glacera sparkled with frost, both real and imaginary.
Nick’s frozen heart beat hard in his chest.
