The heavy wooden doors clicked shut behind Aziza. She stood motionless in the hallway for a moment, letting out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The Queen’s final words still echoed in her mind.
“We shall see about that.”
The statement had been delivered with such perfect composure that anyone listening might have mistaken it for encouragement.
Aziza hadn’t. She knew full well what it was… a challenge.
“Greg…”
He wasn’t down the hall to her left nor the right, even though he said he would wait.
Frowning, she decided to wait another minute or two. Maybe he’ll show up soon.
Still nothing.
A small knot formed in her stomach.
What’s wrong with you girl? He hasn’t ditched you. Maybe his father wanted to continue talking to him.
It was a reasonable explanation. Even so… she couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. She wanted to see him, but that was only because he was her only friend in this place. Well, aside from Mike, who seemed to be standoffish with her now, and of course her new friend Daphne, who she didn’t know well enough yet. It only made sense with that logic for why she wanted Greg there now. Especially after everything his mother had said.
“Well, I just gotta find my own way back,” she said, to herself as she straightened her shoulders.
She took two steps before stopping, “Actually… maybe not.” She smiled sheepishly to herself.
No need to get lost twice in one day. Fanning her face, she began pacing back and forth, as she tried to figure out what to do.
“Your Highness?” one of the footmen said. He must have noticed her lingering in the hallway. He bowed to her respectfully, but the title still startled her. “May I be of assistance?”
Aziza offered an embarrassed smile. "I was wondering if someone could show me back to Prince Greg's rooms." She gave a hesitant laugh, then said, “I already got lost once today.”
The footman’s expression softened ever so slightly. “Of course, Your Highness. Right this way.”
“Thank you.”
They walked through what felt like another maze of corridors. This time, Aziza paid closer attention. She tried to memorize landmarks, the large marble staircase, a gallery filled with portraits, a sunlit sitting room overlooking the gardens, but after several turns she silently admitted defeat. She would never remember all of this.
At last, they stopped before familiar double doors.
“Prince Alexander’s apartments.”
"Thank you, so much."
"It was my pleasure, Your Highness." After another respectful bow, he departed.
Aziza stepped inside and silence greeted her. She closed the doors behind her and finally allowed herself to breathe. It was peaceful, to say the least, but the rooms felt way too different without Greg there. Hopefully he’d return soon.
She slipped off her shoes near the entrance, ready to relax. However, now that she wasn’t worrying about making the wrong curtsy or saying the wrong thing, exhaustion began creeping back into her body.
Not wanting to go back to sleep, she decided to explore the rooms. It wasn’t really snooping… more like getting to know the man she’d accidentally married.
The sitting room was the first space. A large fireplace dominated one wall, surrounded by deep leather chairs. Several framed photographs rested on top of the mantel. One showed Greg and Mike at what looked like a university football game, both of them wearing matching school sweatshirts and laughing. Another showed Greg much younger with a little girl perched on his shoulders, both grinning from ear to ear. It had to be his younger sister, Princess Daphne, in the picture with him. A third photo showed the entire royal family several years earlier. The smiles there looked… more formal. And Greg… well, he looked slightly out of place, like he had been smiling because someone told him to.
It was too sad to continue looking at it.
Warm afternoon sunlight poured through tall windows, illuminating shelves filled with books. She smiled as she traced a finger along their spines. History, Political science, Economics, Architecture, Travel journals, and… Mystery novels.
She couldn't help laughing softly. "So, you like detective stories."
A chessboard sat half-finished on a side table and beside that rested an acoustic guitar. She hadn’t known he played.
The bedroom felt surprisingly modest compared to the grandeur of the palace. The furnishings were elegant, certainly, but not extravagant. Dark wood, soft blue linens, a writing desk beside the window, and a wardrobe larger than her entire bedroom closet back home. Her overnight bag sat neatly beside the wardrobe. It seemed like someone had already unpacked part of it.
Then, her eyes landed on the nightstand. There… her phone! It was plugged into a charger. The battery icon glowed green. She picked it up. Greg must have noticed it had died.
Back at the honeymoon suite in Las Vegas, she'd barely been awake long enough to realize the battery was completely dead before everything had become a whirlwind of packing, rushing to the airport, and trying not to panic. She hadn’t even been able to text Lacy or Jessica herself. Instead, she had to resort to making sure Greg sent them a message, from his own phone, before they even left the hotel.
She smiled. It was such a small thing. Yet… it felt thoughtful.
Of course, that didn’t ease their worries. Notifications flooded across the display.
"Oh my goodness..."
There were dozens of messages.
127 unread text messages.
34 missed calls.
One voicemail.
Nearly all of them were from Lacy and Jessica. The oldest messages came from the night she disappeared.
Lacy: Where are you guys??
Jessica: Seriously. Did you guys seriously ditch us? Mike said he doesn't even know where you are. Call us.
The next messages became increasingly frantic.
Jessica: Aziza??
Lacy: Please answer.
Jessica: I'm starting to get worried.
Hours later… Greg's message, sent from his phone, came through. He had made the messages way too short, with no explanation at all. Even to the point where he just completely ignored their questions.
Aziza winced, "No wonder they panicked..."
The messages that followed proved it just how panicked they were.
Lacy: WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?
Jessica: Wait… Valoria?? Like...Europe??
Lacy: Aziza answer me! Did he kidnap you?
Jessica: Blink twice if you need help.
Lacy: Jessica, she can't blink through a text!
Jessica: Right… WINK WINK…
Aziza couldn't help laughing. However, the next set of texts made her heart swell.
Jessica: Hey, Aziza… can you just please let us know you're okay.
Lacy: We're worried sick.
Her smile faded. They’d been terrified.
There were also several missed calls from her parents and three from her younger sister. Her heart sank. They must have realized something was wrong.
Then there was… Travis.
Five missed calls, one voicemail, and one text.
After a long hesitation, she opened the text.
Travis: Aziza, I been tryin’ to reach u. I messed up, and I'm sorry I hurt u. U know that whole cheatin’ thang. Don’t know why we rushed ended thangs like dat over one mistake. U know u always be my girl. Look, once thangs calm down, u see we both made mistakes. U just in ur emotions right now. U know u overthink thangs when u get that way. When u get ur head straight, hit me up. We gotta talk. U can still be my homegirl.
Aziza stared at the screen and sighed. "I'm emotional?"
She shook her head. Somehow he'd managed to apologize, while still making it sound as though part of the breakup had been her fault. She tapped the voicemail.
Travis's voice filled the room.
"Hey, Aziza...it's me. Where you at? You don't answer my calls, and everyone's sayin’ they haven't heard from you either. Just… call me when you get this, okay? I wanna meet up and talk. We owe each other that."
The message ended. Aziza shook her head, as she slowly lowered the phone. She felt nothing. For a long moment she simply stared out the bedroom window. Then, she selected another contact.
Lacy.
The phone barely rang once.
“AZIZA!”
She quickly held the phone away from her ear. "I'm here!"
"Oh, thank goodness!" Lacy practically shouted.
In the background Jessica exclaimed, "Is that her? Put her on speaker!"
A second later Jessica's voice joined the call. “You’re alive!”
“I told you she was alive!” Lacy said, sighing heavily.
“I thought you said she was probably in witness protection!”
“I’m not even going to comment on that.” Aziza could imagine Lacy rolling her eyes at Jessica before addressing her again. “Ok, girl… you’ve got some explaining to do. "Why are you in Europe?"
Aziza laughed nervously. "It's… a long story."
"We've got time," Lacy said.
Taking a deep breath, Aziza briefly explained everything, the drunken wedding in Las Vegas, discovering the marriage the next morning, Greg revealing that he was actually a Prince of Valoria, and their decision to travel to meet his family before the news became public.
Silence greeted her when she finished. Finally… Lacy spoke first.
"You married a prince?"
"I did."
Jessica let out a squeal loud enough to make Aziza wince. "I KNEW something crazy good had happened!"
"You did not," Lacy said, as she huffed dramatically.
"I absolutely did."
"You just admitted that you thought she'd joined the witness protection program."
"I changed my mind." Jessica sounded like she was pouting.
Aziza laughed for what felt like the first time all day. Then, Lacy's tone became more serious.
"For what it's worth, we’re checking online now."
Aziza straightened. "And?"
"So far..." Jessica said, "there really hasn’t been much online."
“There hasn’t?”
“No.”
Relief flooded through Aziza. "So, Greg's plan is working."
"So far." Lacy said. "Or, at least it seems that way."
She nodded to herself. "That's good." After another minute of catching up, Aziza remembered Travis's messages.
"So… Travis called me."
Both friends groaned in unison.
"Oh, brother," Lacy muttered.
"He apologized," Aziza said.
Jessica snorted.
"Let me guess," Lacy said. "He somehow made himself the victim."
"A little." Aziza didn’t want to admit it, but she couldn’t ignore it. "And," she continued, "he said he wants us to stay friends."
Lacy was quiet for a moment. "You don't owe him anything."
Jessica agreed.
"If you want closure,” Lacy said, “that's one thing. But don't let him make you feel guilty. He cheated, not you."
Aziza looked down at her wedding ring. "I know."
"You don't have to answer today," Jessica added gently. "Focus on one impossible situation at a time."
Lacy laughed. "That’s true. I mean… you're literally learning how to be a princess."
"When you put it that way..." Aziza said, quietly.
There was another pause. Then, they all laughed. Eventually Aziza glanced toward the bedroom door. "I should let you both go."
"Already?" Lacy asked.
"I still have to call my parents," she said, leaning back against the headboard. The words made her stomach flutter. "I'd rather they hear it from me than from the media."
There was a brief silence.
"We'll be here afterward," Jessica said. "No matter what."
Lacy added warmly, "You've got this."
"Thanks, girls."
After saying goodbye, Aziza ended the call. The room became quiet once more. She looked at her parents' contact on the screen, and then at her younger sister's. Her thumb hovered over the call button.
How exactly did someone tell their family that a weekend trip to Las Vegas had ended with a husband… and a royal title? She looked down at the wedding band circling her finger. It still didn’t feel real. Yet, every passing hour made one thing clearer. Whether she planned it or not, her life had changed forever.
She wasn't entirely sure how to tell her folks, but one thing was certain. That conversation couldn't wait much longer. She had to find the courage to tell the people she loved the most.