Once Upon a Princess

“I’m no hero,” he felt compelled to warn her.

The way she was looking at him, her very naked admiration, made him feel guilty.

And there was no way he should feel guilty. He wasn’t here to harm her. As a matter of fact, he was here to make sure she didn’t come to any harm.

“You’re a hero,” she said again.

“I’m—”

Before he could protest further, his helpful niece and nephew jumped in.

“Sure you are, Uncle Jace,” Amanda said. “Why, just last week Mom said you were her hero when you took us to Cedar Point for the day.”

“And how about the time you caught that guy who stole the lady’s purse?” Bobby added. “The paper said you were a hero.”

Parker smiled at the twins, then turned to Jace. “See, I was right, you’re a hero. I can always spot one. So, your breakfast, such as it is, is on me since you saved it from being on me.”

She laughed at her own play on words.

Jace just frowned. He knew that Parker had no experience with being broke. He could give her lessons, but not without blowing his cover.

This was the first time in her life that she had to work for her money. And if her almost mishap was any indication, she hadn’t quite settled into a blue-collar existence yet.

And why should she?

Parker Dillon was no real waitress.

Parker Dillon was a princess.

A true, blue-blooded, wear-a-crown-to-royal-functions sort of princess. And it was his job to find out why she wouldn’t go home and assume her royal duties. Until he did, he was to ensure the safety of Princess Marie Anna Parker Mickovich Dillonetti of Eliason.

“Really, we can’t allow you to pay for our breakfast. I know how tight it can be to live on a budget.”

There, he’d reminded her that she was on a budget now. She had to watch her money and couldn’t go spending it on just anything or anyone.

“Really, it’s my pleasure. Like I said, it’s not every day a girl meets a real hero. Speaking of meeting, have we met before? You look familiar.”

“No.”

She looked taken aback by his monosyllabic, more-than-a-little-brusque response. But when he didn’t say anything else, she took the hint.

“Well, all right, then. Just holler if you need anything else.”

“We’re fine,” Jace said.

When Bobby appeared as if he was going to say something, Jace gave him a look of warning, and for once his nephew heeded it and sank back in his seat, silent.

Without another word, Parker Dillon left them.

Jace watched her go.

The princess went back to the counter, ready to wait on someone else.

And while she was waiting on tables, her father, Antonio Paul Capelli Mickovich Dillonetti, the king of Eliason, was waiting for Jace to find out why she wouldn’t go home.

What a mess.

“Hi, Mom.” Parker was taking a break in the small back office later that afternoon. “It’s me. Father called and wanted to speak to me.”

“Are you two fighting again?” There was motherly concern in the former Erie resident’s voice. Back then her mom had been plain Anna Parker. A small-town girl. Now she was a queen. More than that, she was a woman who liked her family to be happy and get along.

Since Parker’s father and brother were both stubborn and autocratic, the family dynamics were frequently less than tranquil. But all three of them tried to keep their squabbles to themselves. By an unspoken agreement, they didn’t run tattling to Parker’s mom. Which is why Parker said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mom. I just called to talk to him. Can’t a daughter call her father just because she misses him?”

There was a decidedly less-than-queenly snort from the other end of the line.

“So, how are you?” she asked before her mother could phrase a more wordy retort.

“Fine. How are you?”

They made small talk for a while. Regular homey talk. Her mother chatted about her charities and Parker’s father. She mentioned that Parker’s brother, Michael, was on a short diplomatic tour. “He’ll be in the States and is hoping to visit. He misses you.” There was a slight pause, then her mother added softly, “We all do.”

Parker suspected that Michael wasn’t coming just to visit. He sided with her father and considered Parker’s decision to abdicate her royal duties a childish whim she’d eventually outgrow. His visit would consist of a lot of Parker-it’s-time-to-grow-up lectures.

She’d have groaned at the thought, but she was stuck on her mother’s comment. “I miss you, as well.”

“Even if you don’t want to live in Eliason, there’s nothing that says you can’t visit, is there?”

“I will. Soon. I promise.”

“Good. Let me get your father for you.”

For a moment Parker thought her mother was gone, but then she said, “And, Parker, remember I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

She waited on the line, trying to psych herself up for another conversation with her father. It wasn’t going to be as easy as her conversation with her mother had been.

Once upon a time, her father had known her every thought, her every dream. He’d hold her on his lap and they’d really talk.

Parker felt a stab of regret that those days were long since gone. Now they barely spoke. And when they did, her father spent his time issuing ultimatums, and she spent her time ignoring every one of them.

“I’m going to put you through to him. Try not to fight.”

“Mom, how can you think we’d fight?”

Again, her mother snorted.

These days, despite any good intentions not to, whenever she and her father spoke, fighting was inevitable.