The Prince She Never Forgot
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January
Ruby crashed through the door with her shopping bags, work folders and uniform over her arm.
Polly was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, eating a plate of noodles. She nodded towards the kitchen. ‘Come and sit down, Ms Misery. Noodles in the pot and wine in the fridge.’
She was knackered. Honestly and truly exhausted. Between the long hours and the killer commute every day, this job was proving tougher than she’d ever thought. But today had been a winner. Today she’d finally believed that her work had helped a patient regain a little part of his speech. ‘No’ had been the finest word she’d heard in a while.
She poured the wine and tipped the rest of the noodles into a bowl, kicking off her shoes and thudding down sofa next to Polly. ‘What are you watching?’
‘Just the news. How was your day?’
She put the first spoonful of noodles into her mouth. It was like a chilli explosion. Polly had a penchant for spicy foods, and as she was the cook in the house Ruby was getting used to it. She took a few quick gulps of wine to try and quell the burn.
Her eyes flickered to the screen and she inhaled quickly, coughing and spluttering as her noodles went down the wrong way.
Polly turned and laughed, leaning over and slapping her hand on Ruby’s back. ‘Was the chilli kick that strong?’
But Ruby couldn’t answer. Her eyes were streaming. She swallowed as best she could. ‘Turn that up,’ she said, pointing at the screen.
‘What?’ Polly mumbled, her mouth still full of food.
‘Turn it up!’
She started throwing cushions and newspapers around, searching for the TV remote, which seemed to have an innate ability to hide whenever she left the house. Finally she spied it, hiding part-way under the sofa. She pointed it at the TV and pressed the volume button hard.
Polly just stared at her open-mouthed.
‘There are unconfirmed reports that King Leopold of Euronia is seriously unwell.
‘The normally quiet principality has seen a flurry of activity in the last few days as private jets have been seen landing at the state airport. Crown Prince Alexander has returned home after a recent sojourn in the US, where he was apparently working with MIT and Harvard University.
‘Prince Alexander, the only child of widowed King Leopold, is rarely seen. He is an astute businessman who is passionate about his country. Rumours have circulated in the last few years about King Leopold’s declining health and his lessening public engagements.
‘Crown Prince Alexander was seen returning in a private jet in the early hours of New Year’s morning, quickly followed by dignitaries from the surrounding area. We’ve been told to expect a statement in the next few minutes.’
‘It’s him,’ Ruby croaked, pointing at the screen. ‘It’s Alex.’
It was almost as if an elephant had sat on her chest, stopping her breathing.
Polly dropped her fork and bowl on the table. ‘What?’ She glanced from Ruby to the TV and back again. ‘Him? He’s your Alex? Crown Prince...whatever?’
‘Apparently.’
Her throat had dried like an arid desert. She picked up the wine and gulped it down as if it were a glass of water, grimacing as it hit her tastebuds.
Her brain was in overdrive. Tiny words, tiny phrases, looks that had fleeted across his face and disappeared in an instant. Tiny pieces of a jigsaw puzzle she’d had no idea even existed.
A close-up picture of Alex emerging from a plane appeared on the screen and she gasped. He looked awful. He was still handsome, but his tanned skin was pale and there were lines around his eyes—even their blueness had dimmed.
He hadn’t called. He hadn’t left a message at all. At first she’d been irritated. Then, she’d been angry. Finally, she’d admitted to herself she was devastated.
But this was something else entirely. Her fairytale in Paris had never included a real live prince.
Polly started chattering in her ear. ‘No wonder you were miserable. What a catch. Ruby—you kissed a prince!’ She stared back at the screen. ‘I wonder what’s going on.’
The newsreader interrupted the next report mid-story. ‘We’re going to cross live now to Euronia for an announcement.’
A sombre-faced grey-haired, black-suited man stood on a podium. A sign appeared beneath him: ‘Palace Principale’.
‘What does that mean?’ asked Polly.
‘I have no idea.’ Ruby shook her head.
The man started speaking. ‘After consultation with the Crown Council, the principality of Euronia would like to announce that, with immediate effect, Crown Prince Alexander de Castellane will be taking over as Regent of Euronia as His Majesty King Leopold is no longer able to exercise his royal functions. The Crown Prince Alexander will now be known as Prince Regent.’
The picture cut back to the newsreader as he glanced up from reading the piece of paper in his hands. ‘There are unconfirmed reports that King Leopold has suffered a catastrophic stroke, but no one at the palace is willing to comment on his medical condition. We’ll bring you an update whenever we get one.’
Polly turned to face Ruby. ‘Wow. Just...wow.’
Ruby felt sick. Her heart had squeezed when she’d seen the expression on Alex’s face. How on earth must he be feeling?
She wanted to be angry with him—she really did. Why couldn’t he have told her who he really was?
But deep down she knew the answer to that.
A real live prince wouldn’t be looking for a girl like her.
Not in this lifetime anyway.
Ten years later
‘RUBY?’ THE DEPARTMENT receptionist shouted at her again.
Too many things were circulating in her brain. She needed to refer one child to someone else, another to an oral surgeon, and speak to the dietician about another.