Amara Meadows has always placed her job first, but with her journalism career slowly failing, she seems lost.
Although when she ends up spending a month in the palace covering the coronation of White Bridge's prince, she finds more than herself.
F...
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As always the rainy weather of Whitebridge forces me to stay indoors. Hidden under two cotton jerseys, I walk to the kitchen. Max always gets up quite early to brew the perfect pot of heaven, knowing full well that I need my fix and he also knows that the first cup always tastes the best. The palace is in a spin with the Royals returning soon so unlike usual mornings, the melody of birds singing is interrupted by the constant patter on wooden floors. Patter and more, in fact, it kind of sounds like they're rearranging the whole palace.
"Faites-le bien!" The sharp echo of a French accent cracks in the air and two servers run from the kitchen area. Followed by Marie who stops briefly to wave and then walks away. Despite the scene I continue walking and find Max on the ground, hunched over a sack of spilled coffee beans. "Non." He whispers to himself while gathering the mess.
"Need some help?" He tenses up at the sudden sound of someone else in the empty kitchen but noticeably relaxes when he realizes that it's my voice. He doesn't reply, but with a subtle nod of his head he silently invites me over. Bending down, I scoop the beans onto a large pile
"Je vous remercie." His voice is steady as he uses a little broom to brush it into the ripped sack and then throws the whole thing into the trash. His actions are tired and slow. I wonder how long he's been in there trying to get everything ready. I know that Xavier always made jokes about his parents and their specific tastes when it comes to food and if anyone is going to nail their expectations it would be Max. But he looks totally run down and the day has barely begun. I can only imagine what the rest of the staff is going through and Xavier for that matter.
"You seem to be quite worked up over some coffee beans, is everything okay, Maxime?" A whisper of a smile traces his lips as he needlessly helps me to stand up.
"It appears my day has started at an end, Amara. I cannot seem to get anything done right and don't get me started on my kitchen staff, who don't provide any help at all." He dusts off his apron which is already covered in a stain of some sort and walks to the counter to pour the last bit of brewed coffee into a cup. My heart sinks at the sight. It has come to my attention that Xavier and I are the only people in the palace who drink coffee and if it's already empty it means that his day isn't going any better than Max's. I bet this isn't doing his nerves any favours either, first the coronation's sudden announcement and the actual idea of becoming king and now this. He must be a total wreck.
Max hands me the cup and moves to another counter where he rolls out the dough of what can only be his famous morning pastries. The dark liquid creates a soft burn as it slides down my throat and I want to take in the perfection that the little cup holds. It's sweet yet strong and the warmth radiates through my body. Heaven, that's all it is.
Caught up in my appreciation towards the coffee, I don't even notice the change in Max's mood as he hums along to the French song playing softly on the little radio. He gently works with the dough and as the atmosphere sets, I have some time to get lost in my thoughts again.
Except only one thing seems to keep repeating in my head, Xavier's little speech about his future. About love. I've never even thought about love in any detail. I was always so busy, so focused on work and before that school. It just seemed like one of those after type of things. After high school, after university, after getting stuck in an editing job potentially heading nowhere. But it's been after for a long time and now I'm twenty-three years old and I've never been in a relationship, never been in love, never been kissed. Barry from preschool is the only exception.
"Max, what is it like to be in love?" I'm not sure if my voice was audible until Max abruptly stops rolling out the dough. A sense of embarrassment settles in my stomach and I already prepare myself for a gesture of mocking. I don't receive it though, instead, he smiles at me with kindness in his eyes, and that kind of makes me feel like even more of an idiot.
"Max, please tell me there is still coffee?" Xavier's presence is like a lightning strike in the room, So pleasantly unannounced that I almost drop the cup in my hands. Without a word Max turns to me, his eyes narrowing onto my fingers. I need to settle my nerves when Xavier turns to me as well. He looks like hell. If possible he looks worse than Max and if this was any other place and he was anyone else I would run into his arms and just hug him, just tell him that everything was going to be okay. Then again if this was any other situation I would also give his parents a piece of my mind and that would not end well. Despite the obvious impact today has on him, Xavier still manages to smirk my way. And I shift around awkwardly in return, if hellfire was that damn attractive then count me in.
"Morning, petit fleur. " He walks over to me and I can see Max smiling as my cheeks heat up. A silly aftermath of that stupid little nickname. "I believe as a partial owner of this palace, that cup belongs to me. " He's being annoyingly charming, as always, but It doesn't stop me from handing him the cup in my hands without a fight. My own way of making sure he's a little calmer when his parents arrive. The reasoning behind my actions must be totally see-through because Xavier mouths a thank you before turning to leave. As he walks out I grab a few seconds to get a grip.
"Being in love is different. In fact, it's suffocating. Especially when it seems so unfamiliar. That I can tell you from my own experience." He stops for a second as if the memory itself leaves him breathless. "Her name was Mademoiselle Chanel, my dance instructor. She was a beautiful woman, hair like cinnamon, lips of beautiful berries, and a body purely carved from porcelain. She took my breath away in every movement she taught me, it was like watching the wind blow, so effortless." He was definitely reliving a fantasy in his mind. It showed in the way he suddenly treated the dough with love by tenderly rolling it between his hands. "Oh, love is pure, Amara, but it also leaves you restless in wonder. The needs of your heart become but an action to perform. It does sneak up on you and at first, it feels like a mess of emotions, forming a mass of confusion. But one thing is certain."
"Max !" Shock fills my body as he pulls me into his arms after a brisk twist. He continues by dipping my head back and lifting me back up, drawing me close to his fitted body. Laughter fills the room and I know he's getting ready to say something more.
"L'amour est gentil." He looks down at me. "Love is kind, Amara."
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Faites-le bien- Get it right
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Anyone else obsessed with Max? How will the royals' return affect Xavier? What's with Amara's sudden questions about love?
