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Authors: Sariah Wilson

BOOK: Royal Date
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“I am so excited!” Lemon kept saying throughout her monologue. I didn’t know if anyone else on the planet loved to ski as much as she did. Lemon had come to Brighton University, our small liberal arts college, solely because of the skiing. She spent every winter weekend on the mountain. In fact, after freshman year Lemon continued living with me in a small apartment off campus instead of the condo her parents thought she rented. She used the extra money to fund her skiing habit.

I, on the other hand, had only gone skiing once about twelve years ago for a class trip in sixth grade. I remembered our group lesson, and it turned out I had exceptional balancing skills, as I was the only one to not fall forty times in the first ten minutes.

So when Lemon begged me to spend Christmas with her, offering to foot the entire bill for us to ski in some foreign country I’d never even heard of, I had to say yes. I hated that she had to pay for it, and when I offered to reimburse her, she got offended and said it was her Christmas gift to me. Her parents were off celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary on a cruise in the Caribbean, and Lemon did not want to be alone. How could I say no?

I really had tried to refuse at first, but then Lemon went and got her mother involved. Sue Ellen Beauchamp wasn’t the discussion type. She was the sending-down-tablets-of-stone type. Which quickly settled everything. Lemon and I were going to Monterra, and neither Beauchamp woman would hear another word about it.

Since it had been a while since I’d last skied, Lemon suggested another class. I wasn’t interested. It was just like riding a bike, right? I would remember. Besides, I had planned on spending most of my time reading and hanging out at the spa. But I’d promised Lemon I would spend at least one day skiing with her, and today was the day.

I saw Nico and his friends standing in line at a ski lift for an intermediate run. He didn’t notice me, and a small part of me was glad for the chance to watch him one last time as he joked around with his five friends. My heart did a funny little flip as he moved into position to take the lift. I felt a tinge of sadness that I would never see him again.

We got to our ski lift and the operators stopped me. Turned out I had forgotten to attach my lift ticket to my zipper.

Lemon looked thoroughly disappointed, watching the lift climb up the mountain. “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll just find you up at the top.” Most ski resorts had their bunny slopes next to the lodge at the bottom of the mountain. Lemon had explained that some, like this one, had the easier slopes up higher.

I trudged back to our room in my puffy red rented ski outfit, located my ticket, and got back to the lift as quickly as I could. Which wasn’t very fast, as my coat and pants made me waddle like a stuffed, drunk duck. When I got back outside I snapped my helmet on and struggled with getting my shoes into the ski bindings, but I finally managed it.

Standing in front of the lift, I said a quick prayer that it wouldn’t knock me over. It stole my breath away as it came up behind me, scooping me up and forcing me to sit down. But I enjoyed the slow trip up the mountain. The sun was high and bright, the air clean and crisp. So much beautiful white snow, sparkling all over like a field of scattered diamonds. I inhaled the cold air deeply and grinned. I had always loved winter, the way ugly things became beautiful when they were covered in white.

Thankfully, I didn’t fall when I jumped off the lift. I used my poles to propel myself forward, walking at the top of the run to see if I could spot Lemon. The slope was covered with people enjoying the day—mostly families.

Farther down I saw Lemon’s bright pink outfit. I tried calling out to her and waving, but she was too far away to hear me. I pushed out onto the slope after her.

It was a gentle downgrade, and I watched the delighted children who giggled and yelled as they played, skiing circles around me. It made me smile. I was right. Super easy. I didn’t need a class. Up ahead, Lemon headed to her left and I tried to follow.

She disappeared from sight behind a line of trees, so I continued going left. I came down to a wide passageway between a group of trees. I figured she had gone this way. I skied on the path until I merged into the new area. After a few moments I noticed that there were no kids here and the ground felt funny. I also felt like I was going faster. I looked down and realized I was no longer on the smooth, machine-flattened snow on the bunny slope. This looked like ice. It was steeper. I must have accidentally skied onto a more difficult slope.

I went flying forward, scarily fast. I started breathing hard and my heartbeat raced as I realized the danger I was in. I went numb. I had to stop. How did I stop? My brain wouldn’t function.
Think, think!

I turned my skis to the side, to cut into the snow. But that made me go faster. Not good. I straightened back out. What was I supposed to do again?

In a panic, I let go of my poles. I immediately realized my mistake. But it was too late as I kept going faster and faster.

If knew that if I hit a tree, I would be dead. I came around a bend to see a huge forest of trees on my left. I tried to lean away from them, praying that I could stay upright.

Maybe I could drag my hand like an anchor and slow myself down. I crouched down, which made my momentum pick up. I put my gloved hand behind me into the snow, but hit something hard. I let out a loud yell of pain and pulled my left hand up to my chest, cradling it. The tears sprang to my eyes. I had broken it.

What now? The white-hot pain was interfering with my ability to think. My eyes watered more, making it hard to see. I had a moment where I thought,
This is it. This is how I die.

“Fall down!” I heard a voice on the wind and turned my head slightly to look. It was Nico and his buddies, skiing fast until they were alongside me. It filled me with relief. They would help me. Save me. Until I processed what he had said.

“What?” I yelled back.

“You have to fall down!”

I shook my head. No way. Panic and fear threatened to overwhelm me. I had never been this scared.

“Fall backward, on your side!” he instructed me. “You have to. Now!”

What choice did I have? If I tried to stop on my own, I would fall. If I ran into something, I’d be dead. I needed this to be over. I needed to get to a hospital. I had to do what he said. Before I could talk myself out of it, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, falling back toward the mountain on my right side. I hit the ground hard. I had my breath knocked out of me as I began tumbling over and over through the snow. I felt something twist in my left ankle, but I couldn’t cry out as I rolled and rolled until I finally stopped and everything went black.

Shouts and voices crept into my consciousness, and I became aware of the fact that I was dizzy and flat on my back, in the snow, looking up at the sun. Nico leaned over me, blocking the sun in a way that made him look like he had a halo. Maybe he was an angel and I was dead.

“Stay still, don’t move,” he told me. I noticed that his forehead was bleeding. I wanted to ask if I was alive, but I couldn’t catch my breath. And every single part of me throbbed in pain.

I didn’t know how much time had passed, but Nico kept talking to me, telling me I had to stay awake. I didn’t want to stay awake because the pain was excruciating. I tried pushing him away but could barely lift my arm. I saw my sunglasses in the snow, broken into tiny black shards.

Someone put a neck brace on me, and the men moved me to what felt like a long board. They buckled me in, and I was aware of being pulled down the mountain, surrounded by people in bright orange outfits.

The whole time Nico skied next to me, talking to me. I didn’t know what he was saying. I hoped he was speaking Monterran or something and that I hadn’t lost my ability to understand English. I closed my eyes just for a minute. I so wanted to rest. But mostly I wanted the pain to stop.

The farther we went down the mountain, the more I heard voices and yelling. One pierced my haze.

“Kat? Kat? Are you okay? What happened? Let me through, I’m her friend. Kat!” Lemon looked totally freaked out as she reached for me. I tried to answer her, but my voice was so weak. They stopped her, and one of Nico’s friends was hugging her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

I heard the helicopter before I saw it, and I felt the strong rush of wind from the blades as they loaded me into the waiting chopper. The paramedics started checking me, and I yelped when they touched my wrist. Lemon was on my right, holding my hand and crying. “You’re going to be okay!” she yelled at me. I squeezed her hand back. Strong breezes swirled around us as the helicopter lifted up. I felt a poke in my arm as someone inserted an IV. I realized that Nico was sitting on my left side. He gave me a sad smile while a paramedic cleaned Nico’s forehead.

“I’m sorry,” I said. He shook his head, to indicate that he couldn’t hear me. He handed the gauze back to the paramedic and shooed the man away. He leaned in, putting his ear close to my mouth. “Sorry,” I repeated.

“For what?” he asked as he pulled back to look at me.

I turned my head and puked all over him.

I awoke to the sound of a little girl singing “Let It Go.” I opened my eyes slowly, taking in my surroundings. I was in a massive bed, covered by a thick, white comforter. There was a sheer white canopy hanging across the top of the bed and down the sides. I sat up and pushed it aside to look at the room. The ceilings were easily twenty feet high, and the room was full of antique-looking furniture and expensive rugs. A small fire snapped and crackled in a fireplace nearby.

I didn’t recognize any of this. Definitely not our room at the resort. My heart started to race. Where was I?

The singing stopped. “
Buonasera
.
Come stai?

A girl lay on her stomach at the foot of my bed where she had been coloring in a book but was now staring at me. She had black hair and light brown eyes and seemed familiar, somehow.

“What?” My head felt thick, like I couldn’t focus or process what was happening.

She gave me a jack-o’-lantern grin. “I forgot you were an American. Hello.”

“Hi. You, uh, speak English really well.”

She shrugged. “I work on it every day with my tutor. And I watch a lot of Disney movies.”

“Yeah, I heard you singing.” I held my head in both of my hands. What had happened to me?


Frozen
is my favorite movie.”

I let go of my aching head and pulled the comforter up to my chest, holding on to it tightly. “Mine too.”

Her eyes got big, and she crawled across the bed to me. “What is your favorite color?” She asked this like my answer to it was the most important thing in the whole world.

I wanted to ask her what was going on, but instead said, “Purple?”

“Mine too!” she said reverently, clasping her hands together on her chest. “I’m Serafina. I’m seven and a half, and you are my new best friend.”

“Oh. Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” She nodded seriously. “Have you lost all your baby teeth?”

I was starting to feel like I was in some kind of strange Wonderland conversation where I wasn’t quite sure what was happening or who anyone was. “I have.”

“I’ve only lost four. See?” She came in super close, holding her mouth open so that I could see her front four teeth were gone. “My two big teeth are coming in on the bottom, but not on the top yet.”

“Awesome.”

“The
Topolino
brought me some gold coins that have my grandfather’s picture on them.”

I must have looked confused because she continued on. “
Topolino? Il Topolino dei denti da latte?
” I shook my head. “The tooth mouse?” she translated slowly.

Tooth mouse? What the frak was a tooth mouse? It sounded creepy. She sighed impatiently at my obvious slowness. “The mouse that brings you money when you put your tooth under your pillow?”

This just kept getting weirder. I nodded, and that finally seemed to satisfy her. “I’m not supposed to bother you. Am I bothering you?”

Other than my slight panic and total bewilderment at this conversation? “Not too much.”

“Good.”

She went back over to her coloring and pulled a cell phone out from under the book. “Serafina, where am I?”

“At my home.”

“Why?”

“My brother brought you here.” She started dialing numbers.

“Who is your brother?”

She again looked at me like I was very stupid. “Nico.”

“Who?” I tried to place the name, and the memories came flooding back to me. Oh crap, Nico. Tall, dark, and charming. The guy who rescued me after my skiing accident. I had brief flashes of the helicopter and the hospital, but I didn’t remember coming here. However, I did remember throwing up on him, and my face flushed a bright red.

“You look like a tomato,” Serafina informed me. “Chiara, she’s awake.” She paused. “No, I did not steal this phone. Violetta left it in her room for me. I am only borrowing it!” Then she started to yell in a foreign language at this Chiara, and abruptly turned the phone off.

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