There was something uncanny about her beauty. Peculiar. It was familiar enough to be recognized in its soft angles and near-perfect symmetry, but unique enough to cause any man with warm blood coursing through him to stop and stare. Hers, it seemed, was a beauty apart from every other pretty face they’d seen hundreds of times before. After first noticing her existence in the room, it had taken Philip a considerable amount of willpower not to steal glances at her. It hadn’t helped that her presence was a mystery in and of itself, nor did it alleviate his interest that the beautiful stranger’s unobtrusive silence made him all the more aware that she was where she had no business being. As stunning a diversion as she was, he had yet to find an answer to why she was privy to a conversation that was highly confidential, especially since the results of this gathering had long-standing ramifications not only on Philip’s personal life, but on the entire country.
They were deciding upon who would be queen of Ancoria, and this random woman was sitting there like she was watching some sort of theater performance.
“Well? Who is this woman?” he repeated. Without waiting for a response, he snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “You. Front and center.” He gestured toward the front of the room, where Ingrid was standing. “Now.”
Her eyes shot toward Stasi, who laid a hand on his shoulder to divert his attention from the stranger. “Vivienne is my friend, your highness. She has just arrived, and she’s here to work with me for the next year.” She narrowed her eyes at Marcel, who had cleared his throat earlier to alert Philip of the stranger’s presence. “I’m not sure why Mr. Sullivan is making a fuss, because I’ve already cleared her with all the appropriate security details. We can trust her.”
“Duly noted, Stasi.” He returned his full focus on his cousin’s friend. “Now, Vivienne, is it? Will you please share the stage with Ingrid and formally introduce yourself to us?” He gestured toward the short platform in front.
She didn’t move a muscle long enough for him to wonder if she would dare defy his orders, but to his relief, she lowered her eyes in deference to him and said, “Of course, your highness.”
Vivienne then stood up and ran her palms over her skirt — whether to straighten it or to lessen her trembling was his own guess. Something about her being on edge amused him, but it only lasted as long as it took for him to notice the glares his inna and cousin were sending his way.
“Why humiliate the young woman, Philip?” his inna asked in a hushed voice low enough for only him to hear. “This is unnecessary.”
“I’m not trying to humiliate her, Inna. I want to get to know her. At the very least, she adds something to this whole process that actually interests me.”
“She’s a guest, and she’s Anastasia’s friend. She’s not here to entertain you.”
“Philip,” Stasi said, her voice cracking, “please be kind.”
He was about to wrap an arm around his cousin to assure her, but the young woman they were pleading on behalf of was already right in front of him, overshadowing the image of Madeline behind her. The juxtaposition of the two beauties before him — both seemingly out of his reach — drew his breath away and heightened his awareness of a dull ache in his chest. Suddenly, pretty meant something, because this woman’s brand of pretty was quickening his pulse and awakening his senses.
Philip shifted in his seat, his hands suddenly clammy, and his heartbeat doubling its rhythm. Vivienne raised a hand to shield her lowered gaze from the harsh glare of the projector on her.
“Now what?” Stasi asked.
That was a good question — one he didn’t have an answer to, because all Philip had wanted to do was get a good look at her, and now that she was in full view, her appearance had somehow rewired his brain and rendered it useless for several seconds. He forced himself to recover if only to spare Vivienne further humiliation.
“What’s your full name?” he asked.
“Vivienne Kristiansen, your highness,” she said, her eyes still lowered. She was no longer trembling. There might even be a hint of a smile on her lips.
“You’re not an Ancorina.”
“I—” She bit her lip. “No, my lord.” This time, she raised her eyes to peer at him through long lashes. “I’m from the US. That’s where I met Lady Anastasia. We were roommates in university.” She lowered her eyes again.
Philip didn’t say anything. Instead, he fixed his gaze on her face to test out how she would deal with the discomfort. After all, he didn’t mind looking at her. The woman was undoubtedly among the most beautiful women he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He could only guess what was going through her mind, but she was unflinching under his scrutiny. Her posture was straight, her expression tender, her figure relaxed. It almost hurt Philip to pry his eyes away from her to give his cousin a pointed look. “If anything happens, it’s on you, Anastasia. I don’t want a P.R. nightmare because some American friend of yours can’t keep her mouth shut about things she has heard and seen while under your watch.”
“What do you take me for, Philip?” Stasi retorted, emphasizing his name to make it clear she was speaking to him as a cousin and not as a subject. “Would I do anything to compromise your public image? Vivienne is working for me. If you trust me, you can trust her.”
“Now that we have this settled,” Inna interrupted, “can we continue?”
Philip’s heart sank. The last thing he wanted was to go through with this. He would’ve preferred to get to know Stasi’s guest a little more. “Thank you for indulging me, Miss Kristiansen,” he said. “Please return to your seat.”
She held his attention captive as she curtsied before taking rushed steps toward her seat behind him. It took all of him not to turn his head and check on her. What was happening to him? She was a pretty face, that was all. Nothing but a fleeting, albeit welcome, diversion — one he pushed out of his mind, so he could focus on the matter at hand.
“Inna, I mean it,” he said. “I can’t do this. Beyond her usual antics in court, Moira has been egging on the Royal Council about Amma’s absence. There’s trouble brewing in the south, and the Lord of Cortharros is understandably anxious about the entire matter.”
“Conté Cirillo is always anxious about a good many things.” Inna waved her hand dismissively. “This is not unusual, but tell me, Philip. Is there anything he should be anxious about?”
Philip bristled. If he wanted to keep all this talk of war from his amma, he had to keep it from his inna as well. “The conté will calm down eventually. My point is that there is a lot on my plate after Amma gave me the seat of power, and I would like to focus on running the country instead of—” he pointed at the image of Madeline on the screen “—this.”
This is an excerpt from my novel, King of the Crown Imperials. It is set in the capital of the fictional modern-day kingdom of Ancoria.