Thirteen

The mobile rang again for the third time with no answer.

Arran stared down at the phone screen, doing the time zone math again. Nine a.m. her time. Surely she was awake by now.

When he'd woken up that morning to Charlotte's text, he'd nearly booked the first ticket back to North Carolina.

He needed to talk to her. Reason with her. Convince her the past didn't matter to him or his family. But even more so, he'd

made his own choice: if she couldn't be brave enough to enter his world, he'd choose hers.

"Are you alright, son?"

Arran looked over to see his father joining him on the private balcony of Perth Hall, the country estate hidden in the northern

mountains of Skymar. A family home. Quiet and safe from the noise and bother of the outside world. If only he could escape the noise of his heart as easily.

Arran turned his phone toward his father, with Charlotte's message on display.

"I know her history isn't a simple one, but it doesn't matter to me—except for how it impacts her."

His father nodded and handed him back the mobile. "I never discount someone's history."

Arran's gaze shot back to his father.

"Our histories define us, for good or ill. There's no changing that fact." Father's smile softened beneath his close-shaved beard. "From all you've said, this Charlotte of yours is a capable and deeply compassionate sort. Some of the very hurts she's known likely also contribute to her strengths."

"I will fight to keep her, Father." Arran looked out over the countryside, his hands fisting the railing. "To convince her

we are worth a chance."

"The media will run its course on the story and find a more interesting one soon enough." Father placed his palm on Arran's

shoulder. "But here is my question. If she is not willing to take a chance on you, on all this"—his father waved an arm toward

the horizon, encompassing the grand vista over the Skymarian landscape—"are you stronger now from knowing yourself better—and,

perhaps, from knowing her—to continue forward with a healthier head and heart than the last time?"

Arran stared at his father, taking in the question. "I am most assuredly stronger now than I was before I left. I'm more secure

in who I am and what I want," he said. "Which is why I am also willing to consider..." He paused and pulled in a breath.

"A simpler life. If that's what she requires."

"You love her."

It wasn't a question. His father saw.

"I do." The admittance sank deep, securing his decision.

"Ellie's life and marriage to Luke has taught your mother and me to hold our expectations for our children more loosely than

we'd planned." He grinned. "Apart from the past two years, you have proven an excellent ambassador and supporter of Skymar,

especially your patronage of Bredon and the Western Isles. But you have a freedom not as easily afforded to your eldest siblings,

and it offers you a choice."

"I know."

"Love has the potential to give any home the splendor of a palace, son."

The choice ached through him, a ripping of two worlds and two loves. He knew he could find happiness in her world. And although he'd been without her for merely a couple of weeks, he realized his world held less luster without her in it.

"It's true. And I've learned so much about love from you and Mother." Arran released a long breath. "But if Charlotte doesn't

choose me..." He swallowed through his tightening throat. "I'd like to renew my commitment to my patronages and service

to the realm. My time in North Carolina reminded me I have the desire and ability to serve others well." His gaze found his

father's. "But right now my plan is to stay in Skymar through Christmas, and then return to North Carolina and win her back."

"If she's as smart as you claim"—his father smiled and drew in a deep breath—"I have no doubt you'll succeed."

***

Charlie: I promise to call you back, but I need to make it through the Gala tonight first. I leave in a half hour. Can we talk tomorrow?

Arran: I'll be preparing for the Royal Christmas Dinner tomorrow evening, so timing may be tricky, but I'll make it work.

Charlie: Thank you.

Arran: Charlotte, you need to know that I plan to return to North Carolina after Christmas. I've already spoken to Luke, and he's

given me leave to stay at his place during his and Ellie's Skymar sabbatical and resume my spot on the building team. That

will give me time to sort out my long-term plans. But one thing of which I am certain: I want to be where you are. And if

that means my world changes, then so be it.

Charlie reread his text. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Give up his royal life? Move to North Carolina?

For her?

Emotion gathered in her throat as she reread the message for the third time.

He was crazy.

Princes didn't do things like that. And working in construction? Living in her small Appalachian town?

Unless he believes I'm worth the chance.

The thought wedged in between her doubts like a crowbar. Any of the residual concerns about the former women in his life crashed

beneath his choice, his determination. Her eyes burned with pooling tears.

Could he truly leave everything for her?

A knock at the front door startled her from her thoughts, and she peered out her bedroom window. Luke's truck sat in her driveway.

What was he doing here? He should be packing for his flight to Skymar.

She fastened the faux diamond earrings in place and then gave herself a quick look in the mirror. Arran had been right. She

barely recognized herself in the elegance of such a gown. And with a touch more makeup, applied with the help of a YouTube

video, and a careful twist of her hair, also from a YouTube video, she wondered if this was what Cinderella felt like as she

walked into the prince's castle.

A lady.

Her gaze trailed back to her phone at the thought.

Another knock at the door pulled her from her musings and down the stairs. Luke stood on the threshold of the door, holding a large square package in hand and wearing a tux. His dark brows rose as he took her in, from her head down to her shoes and back. "You look amazing."

"And you're wearing a tux," she responded with equal astonishment.

"The invitation said ‘formal,' so I figured this would work."

She gave her head a little shake. "You own a tux?"

And his regular, lopsided grin fell right into place. "Only because I'm married to a princess. Otherwise, I'd have gone for

something less obnoxious and more comfortable."

She barked out a laugh, which didn't fit the sophistication of her dress at all. "What... what are you doing here? Don't

you leave for Skymar in the morning?"

"I'm already packed." He gestured toward himself with his free hand. "Man. It only took me thirty minutes."

She bestowed upon him her most impressive eye roll.

"But I promised Arran I'd escort you, so here I am."

She stepped back for him to enter. "You promised Arran?"

He nodded, taking the familiar trek to her living room.

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Have you talked to him today?"

"Yeah, when he couldn't get ahold of you, he called me." Luke looked over at her. "I get it, Charlie. Probably better than

anyone else. The idea of the royal life is daunting and weird." He shrugged one of those broad shoulders. "And I had to decide

if I was willing to risk all the discomfort and negative media and strange royal protocol things and living six months of

the year in a foreign country, but the rewards were a hundred times better. Ellie's been worth it all." He tugged at his collar.

"Even the tux parts."

"But you're you ." She waved a hand toward him. "Your history isn't like mine."

"You're right, it's not. But if Arran wasn't worried about it, then maybe that tells you how much you should be worried about it too." He stepped closer, dipping his head a little to catch her attention. "Charlie, it took years

for you to step away from your past." He drew in a breath. "I can't know the hurt you've felt, but there comes a time when

we have to quit sitting in the stink of our past and embrace the hope of the future."

"That was equally poetic and frightfully Appalachian at the same time."

His grin angled with a wiggle of his brows. "I have a gift."

She chuckled despite the sting in her eyes. "I don't know if I'm brave enough, Luke."

He nodded and pushed the package toward her. "Maybe this will help."

With a curious look at her cousin, she took the red-wrapped package and slowly pushed back the paper. Her breath caught in

her throat. Framed in silver lay the painting from her childhood, complete with castle, girl, lion, and starlight. A quote,

embossed in silver, fitted to the bottom of the frame.

"Have courage, dear heart."

She blinked up at Luke, thoughts stumbling one over the other. "Arran?"

"Yeah." Luke offered a one-shouldered shrug. "It took him weeks to find it, and with his connections, that's saying something."

All the jumbled desires and feelings within her warred for a victor. Her eyes burned as she sniffled.

"Now don't go messing up your makeup." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. "You don't have time

to fix it."

She took the handkerchief and gently dabbed at her eyes. "I can't believe this."

"Yeah, maybe a picture is worth a thousand words after all."

She nailed him with a humorless stare. "Does your poetic side rise to battle emotional women or something?"

"Maybe." He grinned. "Or maybe there's a Renaissance man beneath all this grumpiness, just waiting to get out."

She laughed through another sniffle and ran a hand down the frame of the painting.

"But seriously, Charlie, he's a good guy. Even if he's a prince." Luke's grin sobered. "And I think that if you don't fight

for your own fairy tale, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

The words reverberated through her, but she fought against the tug. "I can't even believe you said that out loud."

"I probably got it from one of those silly Christmas romance movies Ellie's had on replay for the past three weeks." His shoulders

slumped with a sigh. "She's promised her TV consumption will go back to normal after Christmas, but I'm afraid the Hallmark

chime has destroyed her common sense."

Charlie chuckled again, her attention dropping back to the painting. "I thought choosing love was supposed to be easy."

"Easy?" Luke stared down at her, his gaze turning thoughtful. "Which fairy tale says that?"

"You're right." She offered a helpless wave of her arms and smiled. "Love never came easily in the fairy tales, did it?"

"And it usually took a whole lot of courage to make it to the happy ending." Luke shook his head. "From what I hear. Not that

I've read any."

"Of course not." She offered another eye roll.

With a grin, Luke offered his arm. "You ready?"

His question dug deeper than a simple step from her house to his car. It prodded a choice she didn't fully know whether she

had the courage to make.

She glanced back at the painting and slid her arm through his, embracing the possibility. "I am."

***

The turnout for the Mistletoe Gala proved the largest in Ransom's history. Three hundred folks filled the banquet room of

The Avenue Hotel, the ballroom adorned with greenery and lights, and a massive Christmas tree in one corner.

Charlie had survived—and even thrived —as the coordinator for such a large event.

She wasn't the same person she'd been before.

And no, it wasn't the gown or the makeup, though she'd learned to appreciate those at times. The change ran deeper. And some

of that change had to do with Arran.

As Charlie took the stage, familiar smiles greeted her from the crowd. Grace Mitchell and her family. Several of the top donors.

The entire rowdy clan of Edgewoods. Then her attention fastened on Kevin Lindsey and his two girls.

Her vision blurred for a second, but she cleared her throat and stepped to the microphone. Number one: gratitude and/or welcome.

"This has been the best and biggest year of The Mistletoe Wish, and it is all because of you." She continued, calling out

certain sponsors, donors, and volunteers, the joy among the crowd spilling over in laughter, smiles, and applause. But that's

how gratitude seemed to work: in a contagious sort of way.

Number two: acknowledge the story.

"The Mistletoe Wish began as a Christmas fundraiser because of the season we celebrate this time of year—a season of commemorating

how love came to earth and inspired a contagion of joy, hope, generosity, and love throughout the centuries."

She smiled at the crowd, bringing them along with her. "The volunteers of The Mistletoe Wish desire to bring joy through generosity to the families we serve, but more than anything, we hope to shine a little of God's love into their lives. Because love gives us a sense of worth, and that worth inspires courage."

Charlie paused on the phrase. She'd written it a week ago. Days before Arran's interview.

"As a child, it's difficult to believe people truly care about you when one of your parents chooses something or someone else

over you. A sense of doubt in trusting people, or the fear of not being enough for someone else, can leave us in constant

uncertainty about the choices we make and the people we believe love us." She chuckled. "I think that's why one of my favorite Bible verses is ‘Be merciful to those who doubt.'"

A soft rumble of laughter spread through the room.

"But this charity brings people together to build hope and courage. Especially"—she shrugged and pointed to herself—"for those

who doubt."

Charlie completely abandoned her notes, the message pouring from some place deep inside her scarred-yet-healed heart.

"The Wish reminded me of the very reason for this season. God thought we were worth a miracle." She laughed to herself. "Worthy

of the impossible." Her gaze fastened on Luke, his knowing smile confirming the realization in her heart. "Because knowing

you are loved changes everything."

Her breath burst out in a laugh.

She wanted to fight for her future.

"I used to let those hurts hold me back from being brave. I couldn't—wouldn't—believe what I had to offer was enough. I mean,

he's a prince ."

A rumble of voices spread across the room, and Charlie pulled her mind back to her task. Had she voiced that out loud? In

front of everyone?

Heat rushed from her toes to her forehead, and she searched the room for an ally. Of course, Luke was no help at all. He stood there covering his grin with his hand, his shoulders shaking with his laugh.

She stifled a wince and cleared her throat, focusing back on her paper. "So if you want to continue being a part of The Mistletoe

Wish story, we have cards at each table explaining ways you can get involved. Let's reach as many kids as we can with the

message that they are worthy of love and a future."

Applause followed her across the stage and down to the bottom of the steps, where Luke already waited for her.

"Can you make room on your flight tomorrow for one more?"

Luke narrowed his eyes and looked up to the ceiling as if contemplating, then his grin took a tilt. "I have special connections

now. I think we can make it happen."

***

In usual royal fashion, the decorations for the Christmas Banquet exceeded last year's in elegance and beauty, in part due

to his eldest sister, Rosalyn's, involvement for the first time. As Princess Royal, she was slowly being trained to take over

more responsibilities, and she took to the role with the seriousness and extravagance it deserved.

A string quartet played at the far corner of the room, filling the space with soft Christmas melodies and the promise of caroling

later in the evening.

The entire ambience took on a different hue now that Arran planned to leave it all behind. He shook his head with a sad smile.

After disregarding his title for a couple of years, to face possibly relinquishing it after resurrecting his appreciation

felt strangely ironic.

But the more he considered his choice, the more certain he became.

He wanted to pursue a future with Charlotte Edgewood, and if that meant a redirection of his plans, so be it.

A new wave of visitors entered the room, a dignitary here and an honored guest there, each moving along the royal assembly

line to receive a proper greeting before dispersing into the Dining Hall for dinner and dancing.

As the youngest son, Arran stood near the end of the receiving line with Ellie. "Wasn't Luke supposed to be here by now?"

Ellie shifted a step closer. "The flight was delayed, but he's upstairs changing and assured me he was on his way to the Reception

Room."

"Do you think he created an excuse to keep from spending more time in a tux than necessary?" Arran asked as he tugged at his

own bow tie.

"Very possible." Ellie smiled, nodding as another guest passed before them. "But I do so love him in a tux."

Arran pressed his eyes closed with a sigh to let Ellie know exactly how he felt about her expressed appreciation of her husband

in a tux.

"Any news from Charlotte today?" Ellie asked.

Arran looked away, the answer dropping like a stone in his stomach. "Nothing."

"But you both have been busy."

"Never too busy to phone, if she truly wished to speak to me." He gave his head a shake. "I've got to find a way to convince

her that we can fit in the world together, wherever that world may be."

"That sounds terribly romantic, Arran." Ellie's lips pinched in a smile. "It must be love."

He blatantly ignored her teasing. "As soon as I find another break in the evening, I'll attempt to phone her again. She needs

to be assured of my intentions." He searched his sister's face. "And I wouldn't mind a little assurance of hers."

Ellie's attention flitted over his shoulder and her full smile re leased. "Oh yes, that. I think you need not doubt her sincere feelings, brother-dear."

"What do you mean?"

Ellie's raised brow and widened smile was her only response. Arran followed her gaze and turned toward a doorway that led

from the private rooms of the palace. Two servants held the double doors open to reveal an entering couple. Luke stepped forward,

and on his arm walked...

All the air left Arran's lungs in one burst.

Charlotte?

His gaze trailed down her, and he sucked in all the breath he'd just released.

She'd purchased the red gown.

His grin stretched in response.

It looked remarkable on her.

And she'd worn her hair down, just as he liked it best. Long and wavy.

She stared back at him, her expression serious, her gaze searching his as if she wasn't certain what to do next.

"You may want to actually move toward her, Arran." Ellie's voice broke into his shock, and she prodded him forward with a

slight push. "That would be more romantic than standing here with your mouth hanging open like a codfish."

He snapped his lips together and blinked, forcing his feet into motion.

She was here?

She'd flown to Skymar.

For him.

He didn't trust his voice as he approached her, so without breaking his stride or uttering a word, he nodded to Luke, slipped

Charlotte's arm through his, and walked right back out the doors from which she'd just come.

"Arran?"

Her voice proved her all the more real, her delicious apple scent another welcome confirmation. Without a word, he continued

down the hallway until he pulled her into a private alcove out of sight of the others.

She looked up at him, brow creased. "Arran, I—"

His mouth caught her words, drinking in the taste of those familiar lips. Her body stilled at their contact, but then something

like a gasp escaped from her lips. She wrapped her arms around him, burrowing deeper against him.

He drew back and studied her face, those liquid silver eyes, her flushed pink cheeks, those rosy lips. "You're here?"

She laughed and then shrugged her beautifully bare shoulders. "Merry Christmas?"

" Merry doesn't seem a big enough word. Extraordinary?" His palm traced her cheek. "Remarkable?" He took both her hands in his as

his gaze roamed over her face again and again, certain if he looked away, she may disappear. "How... What changed your

mind?"

Her smile faltered a little. "While I was giving my speech at the Gala, I realized... I realized that..."

"I love you?"

"Yes." She squeezed his hands. "Or rather, I accepted the truth that you loved me." She rocked on tiptoe and kissed him again.

"I'd always hoped that my prince would come and find me. But when he did, I thought I wasn't brave enough to... be enough." She raised a timid palm to his cheek. "But love has a crazy way of bringing a whole lot of courage with it." She

offered a helpless look. "So I thought it was my turn to come find my prince and let him know how much I... love him too."

" Your prince?"

"Well, if you want to be." She wrinkled up her nose in the most adorable way. "I have been waiting my whole life for you."

He laughed, capturing her face in his hands. "I'm yours, darling. All yours." He tasted her lips again, his eyes burning a little from sheer pleasure. She loved him. She'd come to Skymar to show him. "How long can you stay?"

Her smile took a playful turn. "Well, since my boss is already here and he thought I could use some time off..."

He captured her lips for another brief kiss. "Then I can introduce you to my world, and we can sort out the future together."

"That sounds like an excellent plan." Her smile wobbled. "Perhaps an ease of entry for this country girl into royal life would

be a good idea for everyone involved."

"I have no doubt you will manage it all." He brushed a thumb across her cheek. "You look lovely, by the way." He breathed

out the compliment around another astonished chuckle.

"Thank you." One brow teased high. "The dress came highly recommended by a prince I know."

"Smart prince. You should listen to him more often."

She laughed, a lovely light and wonderfully happy sound. "Well, since you're so smart and a prince..." She leaned in close, their breaths mingling. "What do you figure our chances are at a happily-ever-after?"

"Chance?" He slipped his arms more tightly around her. "There's no chance about it, Miss Edgewood, if you're by my side."

He breached the distance between their lips for a brief touch. "You and I are a certainty."

And then, as if mistletoe surrounded every corner of the alcove, he kissed her long enough to convince her of their mutual

certainty of a happily-ever-after.