The Forbidden Prince

He was facing an unexpected development, however—a small thing, compared to Mika’s challenge, but how on earth was he going to cope with losing that backpack? The clothing and toiletries didn’t matter but he’d lost his wallet, passport and phone. It would be easy enough to place a call from a public telephone to request help but, even if his grandmother said nothing, he would hear the subtext of ‘I told you so’. Going incognito to be a nobody in the real world was not something a prince should do. It wasn’t who he was.

Failure wasn’t an option. He just needed to come up with a new plan. Maybe he’d find inspiration by the time this walk was over.

The sigh he blocked after a few minutes of nothing remotely inspirational occurring seemed to transfer itself to Mika, as she pulled her hand from his.

‘I’m okay now.’

He’d been so lost in his thoughts that Raoul hadn’t noticed how the track had changed. They weren’t on a cliff edge any more. The path had widened and there were trees on either side.

A glance at Mika and the change he saw in her appearance was startling. She was still pale but the tension in her face and the panic in her eyes had gone. And, if that hadn’t made her look different enough, her mouthed curved into a grin that he could only describe as cheeky.

‘Stupid, huh?’

It was impossible not to grin back.

‘Not at all. Like I said, it can happen to anybody.’

‘It’s like a switch has been flicked off. Now that I can’t see the cliff, I’m fine.’ She ducked her head and when she looked up again there was something soft in her eyes. Something that made Raoul feel a flush of warmth like the tingle you got when you held cold hands out to a fire.

‘Thank you so much. I... I think you might have saved my life.’

‘It was my pleasure.’ The words were quiet but he meant every one of them. Oddly, he needed to clear his throat after he’d uttered them. ‘Let’s hope there are no more open parts to the track.’

‘I don’t think there are. We should get to the village of Nocelle soon and then it’s just a whole lot more steps down into Positano.’ Mika raised her eyebrows. ‘I wonder if the police station will still be open.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘So you can report the loss of your backpack. In case someone finds it.’

‘I think that’s highly unlikely. It didn’t look like the kind of cliff anyone would be climbing for fun.’

‘I can’t believe I did that. I feel awful.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Really...’

For a few moments they walked in silence. Dusk was really gathering now, and it was darker amongst the trees, so coming across a small herd of goats startled them both. The goats were even more startled and leapt off the track to scramble up through the forest, the sound of their bleating and bells astonishingly loud in the evening stillness.

‘Sorry, goats,’ Mika called, but she was laughing. She even had some colour in her cheeks when she turned towards Raoul. ‘I love Italy,’ she told him. ‘I might live here for ever.’

‘Oh? You’re not Italian, then?’

‘Huh? We’ve been talking English since we met. What makes you think I’m Italian?’

‘When I first heard you call for help, you spoke in Italian. And you’ve got a funny accent when you speak English.’

‘I do not.’ Mika sounded offended. ‘I can get by in Italian pretty well but English is my first language.’

‘So you are from England?’

‘No. I’m half-Maori, half-Scottish.’

‘You don’t sound Scottish.’

‘I’m not. I’m a Kiwi.’

Raoul shook his head. She was talking in riddles. Her smile suggested she was taking pity on him.

‘I come from New Zealand. Little country? At the bottom of the world?’

‘Oh...of course. I know it. I’ve seen the Lord of the Rings movies. It’s very beautiful.’

‘It is. What about you, Rafe?’

‘What about me?’ He was suddenly wary.

‘Rafe isn’t your real name, is it?’

The wariness kicked up a notch. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘You sounded like you were going to say something else when you introduced yourself, that’s all. Do you have a weird name or something?’ That cheeky grin flashed again. ‘Is Rafe short for Raphael?’

Relief that he hadn’t been unexpectedly recognised made him chuckle. ‘Um...something like that.’

‘Rafe it is, then. Are you Italian?’

‘No.’

‘How come you speak English with a funny accent, then?’

He had to laugh again. ‘I’m European. I speak several languages. My accent is never perfect.’

‘It’s actually pretty good.’ The concession felt like high praise. ‘Are you here on holiday?’

‘Yes. You?’

‘No, I’m working. I’m doing my OE.’

‘Oh-ee?’ The word was unfamiliar.

‘Overseas Experience. It’s a rite of passage for young New Zealanders.’

‘Oh...and is it something you have to do alone?’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘But you are doing it alone?’

‘Yep.’ Her tone suggested she wouldn’t welcome any further questions about her personal life. ‘Oh, look—civilisation.’