Sovalon Royals: The Complete Series Page 2

  “Thanks,” she said and held up the backpack. “You look really…” She was about to say “familiar” but then decided to leave it. She didn’t need to complicate the situation by showing interest in this man. He may be attractive, but he was clearly not her type if he was in any way involved in the destruction of the schoolhouse. Better to just walk away.

  She swiveled on one foot, but before she could take a step away from him, he had a hand on her shoulder and was angling her body into his. His lips landed on hers before she knew she wanted them to, but once they were there, she couldn’t deny her desire. The heat was palpable between them, and in the space of one small kiss, a million fires were lit on Clementine’s skin. When the man pulled away, he looked just as surprised as she was. Clem stepped back to gather herself. What the hell was that?

  Without thinking, she held up her hand and gave an awkward wave. “Bye,” she said and started in the other direction.

  “Wait,” he called out.

  She swung back around, ready to give him an earful about how she may have kissed him back but she certainly was not interested in anything more, especially with someone like him whose very career put him at the polar opposite end of everything she stood for. But before she could say a word, he held out her backpack. In the throes of their kiss, she must have dropped it.

  “You don’t want to forget this,” he said.

  His hand brushed hers as she took the bag from him, and a thrill coursed down her arm. The fire was once again ignited, and she felt herself melting like candle wax in the flame of his stare. She had to extinguish this desire and cool the hell down before she did something she would regret. With all of the gumption she could muster, she broke from his gaze. She ran off in the other direction, her bag full of treasures bouncing against her shoulder, the memory of his lips overshadowing everything else.

  2

  “How am I supposed to think with that racket, let alone get anything done in here?” Edward posed the question aloud to no one, but Lance, his driver, was coming out of the restroom and heard him. Lance walked over to Edward.

  “If nothing else, those protesters are a determined bunch,” he said.

  “’Determined’ is one way to put it.” Edward let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s a miracle no one was hurt yesterday at the schoolhouse implosion,” he said. “A group larger than this one was at the site all day, chanting, waving signs, getting in the way. One woman even charged the school just before the devices were set off. She could have been killed!”

  Lance shook his head. “You seem stressed, sir. Would you like me to fetch you a tea?”

  Edward did not want tea. What he would like Lance to fetch for him was a large container of common sense that he could dump all over the crowd outside the castle. Did they not understand the need for progress?

  “No thanks, Lance. I’m fine,” he said and watched Lance tread casually down the hallway of the old castle Edward had inherited from his aunt. Lance whistled his way through the front doors, and Edward found himself envious of his driver’s serenity. He wished he could go on a long drive in the country instead of being stuck with the historical society breathing down his neck to restore this old castle to its original splendor at all costs.

  Splendor.

  All Edward saw was work. So much work and money to be poured into something from the past. Why not put the effort and resources into the future? He would so prefer to be immersed in the urban development project, designing modern structures with ecological benefits. Instead he was stuck in this drafty old castle that devoured fossil fuels at light speed and was falling apart at the seams. His contractors were all behind schedule, and their work was shoddy when it did get done, leading to even more uproar from the historical experts who blamed him for every shortcoming.

  In the back bedroom, the one where he used to stay during summer visits to Aunt Ellie, Edward noticed a water spot on the ceiling.

  “Jenna,” he called to one of the contractors. “Can you take a look at this?”

  A heavyset woman with thick glasses appeared at his side. “Yes, sir?”

  “I hope that isn’t a leak.” He pointed to the ceiling, and Jenna nodded.

  “I’ll get it checked out right away,” she promised and hurried from the room.

  Once he was alone, Edward let his eyes roam around the space. As a young child, he used to play toy soldiers on this floor. Anytime he engaged in hide and seek with his aunt, he never failed to hide in the wall closet in this room. He went to the wall closet, opened it and grinned.

  It still smelled like mothballs.

  These boyhood memories softened him, nostalgia making him glad, if only for a moment, that he was tasked to rehabilitate the castle rather than demolish it, even though it was taking up far too much of his time. He gazed at the pale blue walls—the ones he used to stare at until they blurred and he fell asleep. Beside his old bed was a window that offered a view of the forest beyond. He remembered when he and his childhood friend, Bo, would climb out this very window and race into the forest to have adventures.

  Bo had been a bit of a troublemaker, a friend his parents didn’t quite approve of. Given that they were only eight years old at the time, his mother had been willing to give Bo a chance, to let the boys be boys, as she had said back then, but not his father. After Edward and Bo were caught stealing chickens from a neighboring farm, King Hansen had forbidden his son to play with Bo.

  “You must be mindful of your actions and guard yourself, son,” his father had told him. “You have a reputation to uphold as future king of Sovalon, and the friends you keep will affect your family name.”

  “But Father.” He’d cried and begged his father to reconsider, not wanting to end his friendship with Bo. They were like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer—pals. At eight years old, this was important.

  “No more words, Edward. Stop crying and put on a brave face,” he said. “Along with the crown comes the responsibility of pushing away your personal feelings for the good of the kingdom.”

  Once Edward had wiped his eyes and stopped crying, his father patted his head.

  “Now, let’s leave the past in the past and look ahead.”

  His father’s words had stayed with him from that time on. He’d struggled with letting go of Bo, but he knew it was for the greater good. In the same sense, demolishing the schoolhouse and other decrepit sites was for the future of the kingdom.

  Leave the past in the past.

  Forge into the future.

  This was what he was trying to do, but he continued to be railroaded into projects like restoring this old castle. As the chanting from the mosh pit outside grew louder yet, Edward felt like he was about to implode. What reason did they have to protest his work here? This was seemingly what they wanted—for him to protect and rejuvenate the relics of old. But of course, they had to find some reason to complain. In this case, it was because they thought he was dragging his feet, not making this a priority.

  Okay, maybe they were right—but that was hardly the point. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have better things to do.

  In haste, he marched out of the blue bedroom and down the corridor into the foyer. He threw open the front doors and squelched his fear of public speaking. He absolutely had to address this heckling pack of troublemakers, and as the bright sun forced his eyes into a squint, he opened his mouth to give them all a piece of his mind.

  And said nothing.

  Because at the very second his eyes adjusted to the light, they fell onto a face he’d had a hard time getting out of his head for the past two days. Standing in the crowd of protestors, with her hair piled in a messy bun atop her head and her wide blue eyes throwing glints of surprise his way, was the woman from the old schoolhouse. Her presence seemed to distort reality for a beat. Edward shook his head, unsure if she was real or just a mirage of his desire. The memory of their passionate kiss wafted over him, and he was rendered speechless, stuck inside her gaze until the moment passed.

 
Edward took a deep breath and centered himself. He descended the castle steps and approached the crowd.

  “Citizens,” he addressed them, trying hard not to look at the woman who affected him so. “I understand and sympathize with your desire to salvage important historical landmarks.”

  The people muttered to themselves. A man with a sign reading “Save Sovalon’s History” pushed forward.

  “What about the schoolhouse you destroyed yesterday?” he complained. “My great-great-grandmother was the teacher there.”

  Oh, for goodness sakes. If Edward had to worry about everyone’s great-great-grandmothers, he would get absolutely nowhere.

  “I’m sorry it meant something to you,” Edward said, his hands clasped in a manner he thought might give him an air of empathy and care. “But the building was falling apart. It was a danger to the neighborhood. And now that we’ve let it go, we can create something fresh and special. The Urban Planning and Housing Development board is trying to balance the new with the old, while keeping in mind that the future of our kingdom depends on progress.”

  Shouts and booing erupted from the crowd, while Edward waited patiently for them to quiet.

  “My work here at the old Kawell Castle is work of restoration, not demolition. This castle has been in my family for generations, and I intend to honor it as such. Once the work is done, we will open the castle up, free of charge, to visitors as a historical landmark.” He had no explanation as to why his family had let it sit for a hundred years without much upkeep, but the protestors had to at least see that he was doing something about it now, even if he wasn’t working as fast as they’d like. He was doing his best. They could protest his philosophy all they wanted, but couldn’t they leave him alone for one day?

  Again, the people stirred and talked among themselves.

  “We just don’t like the way you see things,” one woman shouted. “You place all of your focus on the future and have no respect for the importance of history.”

  “Not true,” Edward said. “This castle restoration is something you’ll all surely get behind. It aligns with your vision, does it not?”

  But the crowd ignored him and continued with shouts of Save Sovalon’s Past!

  “I’m going to have to ask you all to leave so that we can continue our work here without disturbance,” Edward told them, his voice stern. “You’re trespassing, and it’s illegal. I don’t want to call authorities, but I will if need be.”

  People began to disperse, but the man with the sign spoke again. “You better not trash this castle, Mr. Big Shot Prince,” he grouched. “We’re watching you.”

  Edward ignored the guy and made his way into the sea of people toward the woman whose eyes were glued onto him.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised to see you here, considering your fondness for old things,” he said and immediately regretted his words. Not the smoothest introduction. “I’m Prince Edward.” He held out his hand for a formal introduction to the woman who’d haunted his thoughts since he’d last laid eyes on her.

  “Clementine Wicke, of Wicke Salvage,” she replied and accepted his hand.

  “Wicke Salvage?” he asked, taking the liberty to slide his thumb across her warm fingers.

  “It’s my family’s restoration company,” she explained, her tone a bit breathless.

  That would explain the woman’s obsession with artifacts of old. “Will you have lunch with me, Clementine Wicke? I’d like to hear your take on why ancient relics should be salvaged.”

  Her face lit up as she accepted his invitation, and a dense longing stirred within Edward at the sight of her smile. This woman did something to him.

  He knew that with her political views, she would surely be a thorn in his side, but he couldn’t resist the urge to be near her. With a firm grip on her hand, he ignored the warning sound in his head and led her into the castle.

  As Clem let the prince lead her into the castle, she wanted to kick herself. She thought back to two nights before, to their tête à tête outside of the schoolhouse.

  Big biceps—a product of his job as a construction worker.

  What a dummy she’d been!

  Well, she wouldn’t be a dummy any longer. This was her chance to sit down and talk with the leadership of Sovalon, to affect change. She would put the memory of his hot lips out of her mind. There would be no swooning over his cute freckles or hard body, although she couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in business casual wear. A step up from the other night. And, his hair fell perfectly across his forehead. And his eyes—

  Enough.

  Clem followed Prince Edward into a sitting room. He pulled her chair out for her to have a seat at a table by a window overlooking the grounds.

  “I never imagined I’d see you today,” he said and grinned. It was the same boyish grin that had captured her before.

  “I was just as surprised as you were,” she admitted. “I thought you were a construction worker.” She waved her hand around the room at the grandeur of the castle. “I was a little off.”

  Edward laughed at her remark and leaned forward onto his elbows. A servant came to take their lunch order, and Clem watched him speak. She noticed the fullness of his lips and wanted to run her fingers along their edges. She felt her mouth beginning to gape with hunger for more than whatever Edward had ordered for their lunch. She checked herself and sat up straight.

  “So, tell me about your business,” Edward said, turning his full attention to her. “Wicke Salvage?”

  “It’s been in the family for years,” she said and took a sip of her iced tea. The cool liquid soothed the tightness in her throat and woke her up. “My grandfather started it when he was young. My father and his brother have managed to keep it up, and I practically grew up there. I started working there full time once I finished school.” She avoided his eyes before she spoke her next words. “My job is basically to acquire things of value for the business.”

  “By pilfering.”

  She was about to defend herself but decided against it when she recognized the flirtatious tone. He was teasing her. God knew she’d love nothing more than to play his game, but she couldn’t. This was her opportunity to speak her mind to someone who was actually in a position to help her cause.

  “By saving items like the old school bell, Wicke Salvage is working hard to keep Sovalon’s rich history alive.” She took another swallow of iced tea, while Edward’s gaze became serious.

  “You’re quite passionate about history,” he said. She felt his knees touch hers beneath the table but resisted the urge to react.

  “Well, Prince Edward, with all due respect—”

  “Please just call me Edward,” he interrupted.

  “Fine, Edward then,” she said and poised herself to speak respectfully but firmly. “You don’t seem passionate enough about history.”

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

  “Well, for one, the progress on this castle seems stalled,” she said and resolved to give it to him straight. “Your interests seem elsewhere, and it’s starting to seem like finishing this project will never be a priority for you. Your people aren’t satisfied by your claims to care about the project at all, especially when you’ve been busy bulldozing historic sites all over the kingdom in the name of progress.”

  “Progress is important,” Edward argued. “If we don’t start thinking forward, we’ll be left in the dust on the world’s stage. We need to focus on things like environmentally friendly energy solutions, and urban development. I won’t allow Sovalon to become calcified in history in the name of preserving history.”

  “But there needs to be a balance,” Clem said as a servant arrived with a tray of sandwiches. “Every time a new development goes up on the site of a historic building that has been torn down, it erases years of rich culture from our kingdom. Don’t you want your children to have the chance to experience Sovalon’s authentic beauty and architecture someday instead of an endless row o
f soulless, minimalist condos on the river’s edge?”

  Edward leaned back in his chair and eyed her smugly. “Do you really want balance, Clementine Wicke, or are you just interested in stopping the development of condo communities?”

  Clem giggled. He had her there. If she saw one more sign for urban living, she thought she’d retch.

  “Listen, you’ve given me some things to think about. I promise I’ll consider our conversation before my next meeting with the Committee of Urban Planning and Housing Development.” Edward put his hand over hers on the table, and she shivered. “Let’s change the topic. Tell me about the most exciting relic you ever found.”

  Clem recognized a dismissal when she saw one. Prince Edward Ashton had no intentions of changing his viewpoints on historical architecture. He was set in his way, and his way was into the future. Still, she was attracted to him. She couldn’t deny that. For God’s sake, she’d kissed a prince!

  But, she assured herself, the kiss was history—and not the kind of history she was interested in preserving. No matter how drawn in she was by his charisma, no matter how attracted she was to his physical presence, she couldn’t move any further with this man. He was not on the same page as her, not even in the same book. And she’d seen what happens when two people don’t see eye to eye. Her parents’ differences had destroyed their marriage, causing her mother to eventually leave. She would never allow herself to fall for someone who didn’t envision the same future as she did.