Chapter 21

The Daily Edge: Social Tattle from One Edge of Skymar to the Other

Our Prodigal Princess Elliana has taken another hard fall this week. Only two days before the most illustrious social event of the season, the Wild Hyacinth Ball, the Earl of Tallon has been taken to hospital and will no longer attend. Appendicitis appears to be the culprit, but some sources say that the princess's most recent snowy escapade with her "American country boy" forced Tallon's hand and he doesn't wish to have his reputation at risk by her behavior.

With the ball only two days away, will the King and Queen still continue with their plans to give our scandalous princess back her royal duties? And if so, who will be her plus-one for this notoriously coupled ball? Our tattlers want to know.

Text from Maeve to Ellie:I hate The Edge. Not only are they doubting poor Timid Timothy's health report, but they're digging at you again.

Maeve:You have access to a whole host of torture devices in the archives of the castle. Maybe it's time to see if they still work.

Ellie:I think you may need to stop watching medieval documentaries or cut back on the caffeine.

Maeve:Seriously, they're trying to hit your reputation wherever they can. Do they even consider how you feel? No! You don't have a date for the BIGGEST ROYAL EVENT OF THE YEAR! Jerks! Plus, I'm calling them a few very creatively nasty names in my mind.

Ellie:Putting things in capitalizations doesn't help my nerves, Maeve. I'm fully aware of the importance of this occasion. Not only as a highly anticipated event but as a night for me, in particular.

Maeve:And your parents are still going to restore you? After everything?

Ellie:Yes. In fact, my mother even said something about growing from her own mistakes to stand by the woman they know I am, regardless of what the world may say.

Maeve:Your mom said that?

Ellie:The journal really impacted her. Grounded her, I think, in her past and the value of being loved well. She even said that being loved makes us stronger, but loving well does too. And she wants to love me well in this moment and in the future.

Maeve:I'm not crying, you're crying. Wow. Ellie. That's amazing.

Ellie:There was something different in both of them today. I can't explain it. It was almost like they were attempting to contain their excitement for me, despite everything.

Maeve:I'm so glad to hear it. You ARE ready for this moment, friend.

Maeve:So do you need me to be your plus-one for the ball? I am willing to drop the total ten I'm bringing if you need me. I just want you to know how much I love you.

Ellie:Your willingness to sacrifice humbles me, but I just had a talk with my parents and... I've decided to go alone.

Maeve:Is there even a precedent for that? The Hyacinth has been around for two centuries, and I've never heard of anyone, especially royalty, showing up alone.

Ellie:I admit I'm terrified, but I've been living in the fear of what people think for much too long, and I think it's time to set a new precedent. At least to show the skeptics I'm not afraid of them anymore.

Maeve:I am so proud of you, my friend.

Maeve:But if you do get extra nervous, look my way. Or take my arm. Or whatever you need to do. I'm here for you.

Ellie:Just pray I don't stumble down the stairs along with walking alone. If I'm going to enter on my own, I would love for it to be grand, glorious, and accident-free.

***

This was crazy.

Luke pulled at the collar of his button-down as he waited for the door in front of him to open.

Ridiculous. Probably the craziest thing, outside of college, he'd ever done.

He looked over at Jackson, the PR person for the king. He'd been good enough to give Luke a thorough review of what would happen during the press conference. Once Taugen House released a part of the video of Ellie breaking through the ice to their trusted news sources, then every other network would snatch it up like chocolate at a junior high girls' sleepover. He shuddered. He'd been witness to too many of those in his lifetime.

"We will permit a few questions," Jackson relayed, dipping his head in Luke's direction. "But only a few. Enough for the reporters to feel somewhat engaged, and then we will finish."

"Ten minutes at most, you said," Luke repeated back to the man from their earlier conversation.

Jackson dipped his head again. "Keep to your script and our conversation. You will be fine."

Luke swallowed the lemon-sized lump in his throat and rubbed a sweaty palm down the side of his slacks. He hated speaking in front of people. And right now, he was getting ready to speak to the press. What sort of idiot was he?

He squeezed his eyes closed and Ellie's face came to mind.

An idiot in love, it seemed.

Love. Bah.

And yet even his internal Mr.Scrooge gave way to a sweet sort of warmth at the memory of Ellie in his arms. Her laugh. Her humor and conversation.

He was a sap.

A stupid, sentimental, ridiculous sap.

And he'd never been happier than when he spent time with her.

His shoulders slumped.

A stupid, sentimental, ridiculous sap who was giving his first press conference and then leaving Skymar with a broken heart and some of the best memories of his life. Who wrote this story? He looked heavenward with a raised brow.

"One minute," Jackson said, touching his earpiece and meeting Luke's gaze for a second.

Luke took a deep breath to help calm the nerves, but it was just a stupid trick that never worked.

In an attempt to prepare himself, he'd spent a good half hour looking up press conferences on YouTube before arriving at Taugen House. Even—his stomach twinged at the mental admission—watching the scene from Notting Hill since it involved a commoner and a famous person.

A truth he was NEVER revealing to his youngest sister.

"It's time," Jackson said, leading the way forward.

Mr.Erikson—another advisor—followed behind Luke and held the door.

The paper in Luke's hands crinkled in time with the mild squeak of the door, and then Luke crossed the threshold.

A few flashes greeted him from the dozen reporters in the room. A smile or two maybe, which took him off guard. He wasn't quite expecting people to be foaming at the mouth and shouting, "Off with his head," but a sense of welcome certainly hadn't been in the mental script.

Luke waited by the door as Jackson approached the lectern. The poised man greeted the room and then continued with his introduction.

"As many of you are aware, a video was released earlier today giving evidence of Her Highness Princess Elliana's near-death experience in a frozen lake in the North Country. This incident was instigated by the presence of paparazzi on private property within the Yarrow Fell. It is an unusual step for the royal family to respond to recent allegations related to the princess's private life, but since these false allegations include a private citizen who is a guest in our country"—he gestured toward Luke—"Taugen House has called this press conference. The private citizen, Mr.Edgewood, has offered to take a few questions in the interest of truth."

Jackson's steely gaze roamed over the audience, the pause creating a palpable discomfort. "Keep in mind, Mr.Edgewood's courtesy will only last as long as you are polite."

Jackson stepped back from the lectern, giving way for Luke to approach.

Luke swallowed through his dry throat and took his position, giving the room a quick sweep before flattening the paper in his hand against the lectern. His own words, culled by Jackson and his team, blurred back at him.

"Good afternoon," Luke's voice came back at him, louder than he'd expected, so he backed up a step and cleared his throat. "My name is Luke Edgewood, as I imagine most of y'all know." He flinched. "Y'all" wasn't in the notes. "And I'm here to speak to the situation that led to the recent allegations in some media outlets related to Princess Elliana and myself."

He gave a quick look up at the group of reporters and another flash blinked in his periphery. Luke looked back down at the paper.

"I was hired to work at Cambric Hall as the lead of a construction team to renovate a part of the orphanage to better serve the children and staff and provide a safer environment. As patron of Cambric, Her Highness is the patron of the orphanage and overseer of the renovation project. We worked closely together and became friends. She came to the cabin on Yarrow Fell in order to express her gratitude for my work and to say goodbye." All true. He didn't have to include their particular style of showing gratitude. "Princess Elliana had every intention of leaving the cabin to arrive at Cambric's gala and would have been able to reach her destination if the lake accident hadn't occurred. After measures were taken to ensure her health and safety, the hour had grown late and the roads had become obstructed. I'm grateful to say the princess was not more hurt than she was." The image of her staring at him from the lake water, the fear of how long she could continue to fight through the water before she didn't have the strength anymore, flashed back to his mind and he looked up from his paper. "Things could have ended much worse than they did. Much worse than even the allegations proposed."

A long quiet filled the room at Luke's ending, and he waited for the next part Jackson had reviewed with him.

"Mr.Edgewood has agreed to take a few questions," Jackson announced into the silence, which seemed to give the reporters the jolt they needed.

Hands rose into the air, along with the sound of voices competing for attention.

"Dawson," came Jackson's response as a middle-aged man with bright blue eyes stood.

"Did you know about the princess's past when you started developing your... friendship?" Skepticism laced the man's words and Luke pressed his palm down on the lectern in an attempt to steady himself. What was the old adage his grandpa used to say—"You catch more flies with honey than vinegar"?

"Truth be told, I didn't even know she was a princess when we first became friends." He pushed up a smile as a murmur bled through the crowd. "Asking if someone is royalty isn't a typical conversation starter in the States, so the notion didn't even cross my mind."

Another dozen hands rose in the crowd. A woman with curly, strawberry-blonde hair stood.

"She's part of the royal family. How did you not know who she was?" she asked. "And what was your response when you found out?"

"I'm pretty simple as far as technology goes and I've never been what my youngest sister would refer to as a royal watcher. In fact, I usually have enough trouble keeping track of my dogs—the last thing I need is to worry about what's happening in the lives of folks who don't even live in my town, so I'd never had any reason to know who she was before now." He shrugged a shoulder, watching as some of the faces in the crowd responded to his grin with their own. "I was surprised, of course, but we all have histories. The woman I'd come to know as my friend was the one who mattered to me more than the one who'd made some poor choices in the past."

The woman placed her palm over her heart and wilted down into her chair with something like a sigh.

Hands rose again.

"Larson?"

A young fellow with dark eyes zeroed in on Luke, the tilt of his lips and brows giving off an air of arrogance. "Mr. Edgewood, the video released shows the princess's fall into the lake while fishing." His brow rose high, a hint of doubt in his words. "Fishing? It seems a bit far-fetched to me and possibly staged."

Jackson stepped forward as if to intervene, but Luke shook his head. Jackson tipped a brow in question, but Luke just turned back toward the reporter. Holding the man's gaze, Luke took his time formulating a response. If someone started questioning his own words and intentions, he wanted to sort it out himself.

"I'd given her a fishing rod as a kind of parting gift, thinking I wouldn't see her again. Fishing was something she'd always wanted to experience. She brought it with her so I could help her put it together and teach her how to use it." Luke shrugged a shoulder, keeping his tone calm while never breaking eye contact with Larson. "Any fishermen in the room can vouch for the comfort and clarity a little bit of fishing can provide when regular life gets messy. And I'd say, with the intense scrutiny and pressure inherent in royal life, even a princess could do with the benefits of fishing every once in a while. Wouldn't you?"

A few chuckles bubbled from the crowd and Larson returned to his seat.

"Ms.St.Charles?"

A blonde in a pink dress offered a coy smile before beginning. "Elaine St.Charles from The Daily Edge." She paused as if expecting him to respond to her declaration, but Luke wasn't sure why. "Mr.Edgewood, how friendly would you say your relationship with Her Highness is? Should her current suitors be threatened by you?"

Jackson cleared his throat. "Mr.Edgewood has already spoken to the nature of their friendship, Ms.St.Charles. Do you have another question?"

Her smile dropped for a second before returning with a bit less potency. "I'll rephrase." She looked back at Luke. "Do you have plans to stay in Skymar long-term?"

"No, ma'am. I return to the States next month."

"We have time for one more question." Jackson interrupted Elaine from adding something else. "Mr. Pool?"

"Darien Pool, the Morning Gazette." The older gentleman dipped his head in greeting and squinted toward Luke. "As a longtime reporter of the royal family, I am curious to your thoughts, Mr.Edgewood. Since you consider yourself a friend of the princess, are you concerned about her past sabotaging her future choices as she potentially steps back into life as a working royal?"

This question carried so much intention behind it. Luke paused, considering how to address it. "Mr.Pool, are you a hunting man?"

The older gentleman's gray brows rose. "Pardon?"

"Skymar, especially the North Country, has some great places for outdoorsmen. I was just wondering if you ever did any hunting?"

Mr.Pool cleared his throat. "I have, more so in my younger days than now. It's a valued pastime of Skymar."

"And rightly so. I'm not highly familiar with the royal family of Skymar and their history. To be honest, I'm more of a face-value sort of guy, so I'll give you my opinion from that simple perspective." He scanned the crowd. "When I've been hunting, the tracks tell you a lot about what you're looking for, right? Follow the wrong tracks, get the wrong animal. People leave tracks too. Their reputations and actions. Any solid Google search can give plenty of details of what sort of tracks Her Highness had three or four years ago, but the same online search can also show how those tracks have changed in recent history. Any good reporter worth his or her salt can follow the accounts of accurate news and see how Princess Elliana has made a good and real difference to the people she's served in the North Country. I don't know about you, but I'd much rather people look at the track record I've left behind since I've grown from my mistakes rather than the one I left before then."

Luke nodded toward the older man and then turned to Jackson, who wore an odd expression of... almost a smile? The latter gentleman gestured toward Luke and Luke followed him from the room as the calls of competing reporters clamoring with more questions resounded behind them. The awareness that he'd made it through the press conference suddenly weakened him. Kind of like the feeling of nearly falling off a roof, the few times that had happened.

All right. He'd survived. Maybe hadn't sounded too stupid. And hopefully helped Ellie out, at least a little, in the process.

Jackson turned to Luke as the door closed behind them. "Well done, Mr.Edgewood."

"Thanks, Jackson." Luke released a long breath and tugged off his suit jacket to cool down. "I don't think it would have turned out so well without you."

"It is what I do, sir." Jackson offered a deferential nod before adding, "Though I have no doubt you could hold your own, if necessary."

Luke shot him a grin. "I wouldn't wish for another opportunity anytime soon, but it was the right thing to do for El—for the princess." He looked away as heat rose up his neck at his near-blunder. "And, well, we muster up the courage to do a lot of crazy things for the people we—for those who need it, don't we?"

"Indeed, sir." A glint lit Jackson's eyes. "Indeed we do."

Text from Izzy to Luke:YOU. WERE. AMAZING! No one would have known you were nervous at all.

Luke:I had to change my shirt afterward because I'd sweated through it.

Izzy:Well, you couldn't tell from the television screen. Truly. You seemed pretty calm, except that one time you stared down some guy. No one else probably knew that look, but I did and it's terrifying. I loved it when you used it on Arnold Cramer during my senior year. Nobody tried to break into my locker after that.

Luke:Why hasn't it ever worked on Penelope?

Izzy:She knows you have a soft heart, so she's immune to the Rambo "kill you" look.

Luke:I hope meeting with the press helps people see the truth. That's all that matters to me.

Izzy:I wish you could see her again. Just one more time maybe.

Luke:Yeah. I'd like that too. I hate the feeling of not being able to fix this. I'm not a native. I'm not on the "princess list," so to speak. So... I just have to let go.

Izzy:One of the hardest things for a fixer to ever do.

Luke:Now stop worrying about me and finish all those wedding plans. You've only got a little over a week left. I may not be a fan of Hallmark movies, but I sure am a fan of happily ever after for the people I love.

Izzy:Aww, that may be one of the sweetest and non-Luke-ish things you've ever said.

Luke:Thus the reason I said it to you and not Penelope. I don't think I could handle the reminders.

Luke:Or the dozens of movie links, quotes, or memes she'd send me afterward.

Izzy:Do you want to head down to Fiacla with Brodie and me this afternoon? Penelope, Matt, and Iris are set to arrive at the airport in the next hour and we were planning to go out to dinner before they crashed. We can celebrate your media success!

Luke:I'd love to, but I can't. Gordon messaged me last night and said that he found a few unfinished things he wanted me to check back in Crieff today. He suggested I just stay the night over there. Could we meet another night this week?

Izzy:Sure. But I can't imagine you leaving anything unfinished. Unless it's a certain relationship with a princess.

Luke:Touché. But I'd like to say we both came to a mutual understanding that made sense for both of us and our futures.

Izzy:Yeah, sounds like there's a whole lot of "unfinished" in the middle of that sentence.

Luke:I'd love to continue to rehash my love life, but Gordon wanted me in Crieff by four, and I'm already running a little late because of just getting back from the press conference. Need to get a quick shower and be off. In fact, I might even use the excuse of trimming my beard to get out of this conversation.

Izzy:You're hilarious. We won't know you're getting married until the day before it happens from the amount of information you share.

Luke:Not true. Mostly. Now get back to your own love life and wedding planning and leave me alone.

Izzy:Fine, but one more thing... are you still planning to pick up Josephine and the fam from the airport on Tuesday? I have my last dress fitting.

Luke:Yep. On my calendar.

Izzy:You have a calendar now?

Luke:The one I keep in my head.

Izzy:Right. Fantastic. I feel so much better now.

Luke:Have I ever failed you with it?

Izzy:Touché right back atcha. Wednesday is still when we're all getting together to make wedding decorations. Don't forget.

Luke:It's my favorite date of the week.

Izzy:You are a horrible liar. Talk to you later. Have fun in Crieff. I know you love the people and place.

Luke:It's always an adventure. :)

***

Luke pulled into the back of the Frasiers' shop where their residence connected to the antique store. The house part of the building spread out into an L shape from the shop, allowing space for Gordon to build a front porch for his bride—a fact she bragged about often and Gordon, in typical fashion, gave a gruff nod. Then changed the subject.

But there was no mistaking the slight hint of a grin on his face at the story.

Luke felt a kinship with the man all the more when he saw moments like those. The soft side of the burly builder. Luke sighed. He knew his own weaknesses. Having been raised around girls, he'd learned real quick that his quiet, tough exterior was no match for a person in need, especially children and women.

In particular, those he cared about.

And Luke's heart had turned to putty in Ellie's hands, plain and simple.

A fact slicing right through his chest every time he contemplated never seeing her again. He wouldn't say he was sad that Earl what's-his-name decided not to go to the dance... or party... or whatever it was with Ellie, though he hoped she'd find another partner. Just not one she liked a whole lot.

He gave his head a strong shake and stepped out of the car. No use dwelling on things he had no power to control or change. They'd both made the best right decision for the people in their lives, and that was what mattered.

Even if it was rotten.

The weather had turned nice enough that Luke left his jean jacket in the car with his toolbox and took the front steps two at a time to the door. Why Gordon decided to meet at his house instead of Cambric Hall didn't make sense, but maybe the man wanted to walk on a fine spring afternoon like today.

That might do Luke some good too.

After giving a knock, he adjusted his cap and waited.

A sudden commotion exploded within the house. Something sounded like it crashed, then a man's loud voice—likely Gordon's—exclaimed something in Gaelic. Probably not a word his wife would have appreciated.

Luke's lips twitched. Sounded kind of like his uncle.

Another round of scuffling erupted from behind the door and then—

Was that a child's voice shouting, "He's here"?

Were his grandkids in town? Luke didn't think they were old enough to talk in sentences yet.

The door flew open to reveal Nessa Frasier's wide smile and dancing eyes. "Oh, thank heaven, you've finally arrived."

Faye's little face peeked out from around Nessa.

"Well, lookie who's visiting y'all." Luke leaned down. "Hey, pretty lady."

She giggled and waved, the necklace he'd given her dangling from her neck.

"Gordon and I are considering a long-term agreement for Jamie and Faye." Nessa's smile widened and she leaned close to Luke. "We've started the initial paperwork for adoption. Gordon's even mentioned adding Cade to the list."

"That's some of the best news I've ever heard, Nessa." Luke's laugh burst out and he pulled the woman into a hug. "Can't think of any kids finding a better home than right here with you." He shrugged. "And even grumpy ol' Gordon too."

"What ya say, lad?" He lumbered forward, a frown in place as he gestured toward his wife. "You're standing around here haverin' on like we have all day to dally. We're already late as it is."

Luke looked from Nessa to Faye to Gordon, and even to Jamie, who'd just entered the foyer with everyone else. "Late?"

"You dinna tell him why he needed to hurry?" Nessa rolled her eyes heavenward. "Did you think he might need to know?"

"I was trying to keep it a surprise."

"A surprise? We're already going to be a half hour late, and you thought to keep it a surprise? Why on earth did you think that was a good idea? It's the king!"

"I was trying to be blinkin' romantic," Gordon roared back.

"Were you now?" Nessa's voice dropped into a coo and she leaned up and kissed the man on his cheek. "Well, a few minutes won't hurt, will it?"

Nothing, except the love between Gordon and Nessa, made sense at the moment.

And the fact they'd decided to adopt Faye and Jamie.

Everything else reminded him of a scene from a Monty Python movie.

"What are you two talking about?"

"You're going to a ball!" Faye shouted, her hands outstretched like something Penelope would do. "A real ball! Just like a princess."

Even though Luke didn't understand anything about what Faye just said, a knot started developing in his stomach.

"Och, lass. You kinna say it like that." Gordon shook his head and reached for a garment bag hanging on a closet door nearby. "Go on in that room and put these on. You kinna go looking like you just finished working a job."

Luke stared down at the garment bag in his hand. "I don't quite understand what—"

"The king sent a special invitation to you for tonight's Wild Hyacinth Ball." Nessa's voice grew in volume and pitch to the point Luke took a step back. "Isn't it marvelous? We were given orders to get you there, if you're willing."

Nope. Still not fully comprehending. Ball? As in... really? Luke blinked a few times as he tried to make sense of the situation. "The king invited me to a ball?"

Even saying it made him feel a little queasy. And ridiculous. And like he'd stepped into one of Penelope's daydreams. A shiver ran through his body.

"That's right." Nessa took him by the shoulders and guided him to the next room. "And we're going to get you there." She laughed. "Like regular fairy godparents."

The Penelope daydream reference died a death in his brain.

"Fairy godparents?" Gordon groaned. "Do I look like a fairy to you?"

"At the moment, you look more like an ogre," Nessa shot back, brow raised.

He huffed.

Nessa turned back to Luke and nudged him into the room before whispering, "Skymarian godparents then. Every story needs one or two, you know?" She laughed again. "So get yourself ready, my boy, so we can take you to your princess."

Another unrecognizable Gaelic word sounded from Gordon as the door closed, followed by some giggling and another thud or two.

Luke stared at the closed door. Why did he feel like he'd stepped back in time to one of Izzy or Penelope's sleepovers? An ache pulsed over his left eyebrow.

What was happening? He looked down at the garment bag in his hand and unzipped it to reveal—the knot moved from his stomach to his throat—a tux?

A sudden chill spilled ice through his body. No, he couldn't do this. He wasn't made for something like this. A ball? A royal ball?

He had a hard enough time not wanting to run for his life from a friendly meeting with the king in his private apartments. And if he sweated like a cow in a slaughterhouse over a structured and somewhat brief press conference, how on earth would he make it through an entire evening of dancing and small talk with rich people?

He reached for the door handle and paused. But one more night with Ellie?

He rocked back from the door and placed the tux on the nearby chair, staring down at it as if it held some answers. If her dad had invited him, then he knew he at least liked Luke enough to be seen in public with him, let alone to allow his daughter to be seen with him.

A ballroom, though? And dancing... in front of other people?

His hands grew sweaty just thinking about it.

Memories of spending time with her over the last month flooded through him and his chest responded with a strange contradiction of expanding and contracting, like a fight or flight between pain and sweetness. Love was hard.

Achingly hard.

High-risk hard.

But also worth-it hard. He stood a little taller. Fighting hard.

He caught his reflection in a mirror across the room and stared back at himself. His body straightened, his own eyes challenging him. His jaw stiffened.

He may not have to fight a dragon, but he could fight against his own fears enough to show up for her.

To be there for her.

Tonight.

He shrugged off his flannel shirt and stared down at the tux again, and then, like any good warrior worth his salt, he accepted the mission head-on.

When he finally emerged from the room, feeling as uncomfortable as a man could feel in a tux he hadn't planned to wear to a ball he'd never even contemplated attending, Nessa rushed forward.

"Aw, don't you look class." She patted his shoulders and grinned. "A bit tight in the shoulders, isn't it?" Her eyes gleamed. "Not that anyone who matters will mind at all."

Heat exploded in his face, behind his eyes, inside his ear canals. He hated being on display.

"Aye." Nessa studied him to the point he wanted to squirm. "Rather fetching if you ask me."

He raised the bow tie to her to redirect her praise. "I can't get this to work. It's... too tight."

"Well, let me see what I can do." She took the item from him and began working with some piece of the cloth on the strap, and then Gordon emerged with Faye and Jamie on his heels.

"Come on now, woman, if we're goin' ta get anywhere before the night is done, we need to leave now."

"Then stop your bletherin' and let's get in the car." She frowned over at her husband but donned another smile for Luke.

This was crazy.

Gordon opened the door and gestured with his head for the children to climb in. Nessa grabbed her purse and followed.

Luke started to move, but Gordon stopped him. "Mind this, lad. You look as decent as any of the lot who'll be there." He narrowed his eyes. "And you're worth more than most of them because you'll do right by Ellie. I think she'll need you before the night's out, mate." He tapped his head. "Mind what matters and you'll be fine."

Gordon waved his hand to Nessa, who was in the passenger side of the car. "Give Luke the front. He'll have more room."

"But what about his tie?" Jamie interjected from the back seat, a little hesitantly.

"Och," Gordon growled, studying the situation. "Jamie, my boy, up front. Nessa and Luke in the back with Faye. Now let's be off."

All the cars in Skymar looked small.

And piling five people into one only proved it. Besides the fact that Luke was a tall, fairly average-sized man wearing a monkey suit, he also sat between Nessa, who attempted to strangle him with a bow tie, and Faye, who kept singing princess songs while Gordon drove like a maniac down roads too small to be two-lane.

He was, possibly, living one of his worst nightmares.

"Do you think you'll marry Princess Ellie?" This from Faye, who'd stopped singing long enough to become curious.

"Take Reddling Way, luv. It'll be shorter," Nessa called from the back.

"I don't think we can get married, Faye." Luke tried to keep his voice low. "I'm not a royal or even from Skymar."

"But that doesna matter, does it? Amara is from Nigeria and I'm from Skymar and we're still friends forever."

"Reddling Way will be too congested this time of day," Gordon shot back. "Route 45 is faster."

"Marrying a princess is a little different than just being friends, I think." Luke pinched his eyes closed as the car swerved. "She has responsibilities here and I have responsibilities back at my home."

"What are responsibilities?" Faye tilted her head and studied him.

Nessa gave the bow tie another jerk and then smiled. "You look braw, my boy." Then she turned to the front. "Route 45 will have work traffic from Kelmer and you know how that is."

"Responsibilities are things that are important to each of us that we need to do. That other people expect us to do." Maybe he preferred being in the back seat, because watching Gordon drive from the front seat would probably look more like a Mario Kart race.

"You're going to miss the exit, Gordie." Nessa's voice rose. "There it is."

"Och!" Gordon growled and swung the car over two lanes to take the exit.

Faye didn't seem fazed at all. Jamie held on to the side door with a white-knuckled grip.

"But she's a princess. That makes it special," came Faye's voice through the madness.

"It does, which means she deserves someone special to help her meet those responsibilities, and I live too far away." The statement hurt because it felt so true.

"We've gained at least ten minutes on our time." Nessa looked over at him, her eyes glistening. "Oh, it's so exciting, Luke." She glanced around the car expectantly. "Does anyone else feel like Cinderella?"

A few of his man points died inside him.

Faye gave a rousing clapped response, but every male in the car failed to be amused.

"Cinderella, woman?" Gordon gave his head a strong shake. "Right now, I feel like we're in a blooming Jason Bourne car chase."

And the men gave their hearty approval.

Man points restored. Mostly.

"Can't you and Princess Ellie just live in the middle?" Faye asked.

Gordon scoffed. "If they were merfolk."

"There's an ocean in the middle, Faye," Luke clarified.

The car swerved again, and Faye nearly landed in his lap.

"We're not far now," Nessa announced, patting Luke on the arm. "I can't wait for you to tell us all about it."

"We'll collect you at midnight," Gordon said. "Text us when you're ready."

"Midnight is when Cinderella's magic ran out too," Faye added with a smile.

Luke wasn't even sure if his smile still worked. Was it possible that his little sister was writing this scene of his life and cackling from her place of omniscience?

"Do you think midnight will give you plenty of time?" This from Nessa.

"You don't have to wait for me." Luke shook his head. "I can rent a car and get back to Crieff."

"And allow us to miss the story?" Nessa gasped. "You kinna do that. Gordon and I will take Jamie and Faye back to Cambric and return for you later." Nessa sent Faye a wink. "And I'll share all of it with you tomorrow, Faye. Don't you worry."

The car swerved again and Luke braced himself with his knees as the tires screeched through a turn.

Maybe God was using this car ride to make him grateful to finally put his feet on steady ground again. Even if that steady ground started at the bottom of a staircase to a castle to meet a princess.

Yep. Still sounded weird.

And completely impossible.