Ever After (Forbidden Love #1) Read online

  Ever After

  Riley Hart

  Christina Lee

  Copyright © 2018 by Christina Lee and Riley Hart. All rights reserved.

  Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without prior written permission by the author(s), except where permitted by law.

  EVER AFTER is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All products and/or brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.

  Published by Christina Lee and Riley Hart in the United States of America

  Cover Art by Jay Aheer

  Edited by Keren Reed

  Copyediting by Flat Earth Editing

  Proofreading services provided by Lyrical Lines and Judy’s Proofreading

  Contents

  Blurb

  Dear Reader

  1. Merrick

  2. Cassius

  3. Merrick

  4. Cassius

  5. Merrick

  6. Cassius

  7. Merrick

  8. Cassius

  9. Merrick

  10. Cassius

  11. Merrick

  12. Cassius

  13. Merrick

  14. Cassius

  15. Merrick

  16. Cassius

  17. Merrick

  18. Cassius

  19. Merrick

  20. Cassius

  21. Merrick

  22. Cassius

  23. Merrick

  24. Cassius

  25. Merrick

  26. Cassius

  27. Merrick

  28. Cassius

  29. Merrick

  30. Cassius

  31. Merrick

  32. Cassius

  33. Merrick

  34. Cassius

  35. Merrick

  Thank You for reading EVER AFTER

  About Christina Lee

  Other Book By Christina Lee

  About Riley Hart

  Other Books By Riley Hart

  An Excerpt from Living Out Loud

  Blurb

  As next in line for the Evergreen crown, Prince Merrick Davendall’s future involves ruling, marriage, and producing an heir of his own. But he’s long been tormented by desires that are far from princely. Especially when the beautiful Cassius is promoted to be his new valet, and Merrick is struck by a longing like never before—a longing to know him far beyond royal and servant.

  After his father’s passing, Cassius Havendale’s sole duty is to provide for his family. A promotion to serve a pampered prince is something he endures only for their sake. Surely Prince Merrick has no understanding of the true suffering of the common people, nor could he possibly understand what it’s like to desperately desire something he cannot have.

  Except the prince is not at all what Cassius imagined. Kind, humorous, and caring to those in need, he also shares Cassius’s affinity for the arts. In fact, Merrick understands his deepest vulnerabilities in a most remarkable way.

  As their affection deepens, the underlying tension between them becomes unbearable and they’re unable to ignore it any longer. But when the queen prepares a lavish ball with all the eligible ladies in the land in attendance, Merrick must fulfill his obligations to his country, and Cassius has the needs of his family to consider. They’ve long known their stolen moments would have to come to an end, but are they ready to give up one another and the idea of a happily-ever-after?

  ***PLEASE NOTE: EVER AFTER is a romantic fairy tale—minus the magic—that features one compassionate prince, one brooding valet, and plenty of angsty, forbidden love. It’s loosely based on a certain treasured fairy tale in a wintery make-believe setting that wouldn’t be considered contemporary but also isn’t based on any specific time period and doesn’t play by any traditional rules.

  Dear Reader:

  It all began with the cover illustration we saw last summer, created by Jay Aheer. We immediately knew we wanted the design and that we’d be clearing our schedules in the near future to write a tale of two princes.

  When we brainstormed our fairy tale, we instantly agreed on three things: to create a fictitious place, a nondescript time period, and to play by our own invented rules in this land we dreamed up. Even though the story contains no magic and wouldn’t necessarily be considered part of the fantasy realm, Ever After is a completely imagined world and should be read as such.

  That said, we’re asking you to suspend disbelief for enjoyment’s sake. And we certainly do hope you enjoy it. This book was a labor of love, and we absolutely adored writing it. We swooned, we cried, and we yearned for Merrick and Cassius’s happily-ever-after.

  Thank you for taking a chance on our book!

  Christina Lee & Riley Hart

  1

  Merrick

  Merrick was always running late, which certainly wasn’t a good look for a prince. His valet, Geoffrey, had hung Merrick’s cashmere coat over his shoulders and effectively nudged him down the grand staircase, where a footman waited to usher him out the door.

  Geoffrey was not only in charge of his daily wardrobe, but also his schedule, and this evening, Merrick was to be dining with a woman his parents had urged him to court.

  Geoffrey was getting up in age and therefore not as fast or limber on the steps as in years past, so Merrick purposely slowed his pace to allow him time to catch up.

  He’d admit his lateness was partially due to low enthusiasm about the evening—any evening with a lady, not that it was their fault. He was the one who couldn’t shake his penchant for men. But as his parents reminded him, it was high time he married and produced an heir.

  The newest footman stood waiting at the door with his eyes trained forward. He’d recently been promoted from kitchen porter, but for the life of him, Merrick couldn’t remember his name. He did recall hearing a family detail from the butler—a mother in a wheelchair, perhaps. A plain acknowledgment would have to do for now. Footman duties included assisting the butler with the arrival and departure of royal family members, but also serving the formal meals, so Merrick would be sure to learn his name as he saw more of him in the future.

  Merrick nodded at the footman and uttered a simple greeting as he crossed the threshold toward the waiting automobile. He slowed on the icy walkway, knowing Geoffrey would need extra care, and just as he had that thought, he heard his valet stumble behind him. He turned in time to see the footman with a steadying hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder, and Merrick’s arm stretched out as well to balance his other elbow.

  “I am sorry, Your Highness,” Geoffrey remarked in a strained voice, mortification coloring his cheeks.

  “Do not give it another thought,” Merrick replied, a stitch tugging at his chest.

  Practically everyone in the castle knew it would soon be time to send Geoffrey off to a peaceful retirement with a reasonable compensation package for his years of service. But Merrick could not yet imagine such an adjustment. Geoffrey would properly train his replacement before his departure, of course, but the valet knew all of Merrick’s quirks and routines, and allowing somebody else into his confidence didn’t exactly sit well with him.

  His sister, Marjorie, acquired a new lady maid the previous year when her servant had run off to be married to her childhood sweetheart. Marjorie was quite settled now, of course, but missed her maid dearly. These things took time.

  Just as Geoffrey op
ened the door to usher Merrick to the back seat, Merrick heard a deep and unsteady voice. “Your Highness?”

  Merrick looked back to see that the footman had left his station at the door and was crouching down to reach for something on the snow-covered ground.

  “What is it?” Merrick asked, noting the footman’s wide eyes as he held a shiny, golden piece in his fingertips.

  As Merrick approached the young man, the servant kept his eyes averted, but his throat worked to swallow. “Sir, I noticed your sleeve had come undone, and when I looked down at the ground, I detected the gleam of your cuff link.” The footman held the small object out to him.

  “Good eye,” Merrick replied, fishing it from the servant’s fingers. Merrick noticed how the man’s hands were clean, yet his knuckles were roughened. It made him wonder what sort of responsibilities he had outside of the castle walls. Certainly, neither kitchen nor footman duties would have toughened them so. Merrick would not allow himself to picture what those other tasks might feel like. This was the life the man was born into, and even if some portions displeased him, people would never take kindly to him whining about it.

  “Thank you…Your Highness,” the footman replied, and Merrick’s gaze slid to the man’s eyes, noticing for the first time their translucent honey color along with his dark-brown hair worn tied against his nape as most men in Evergreen did. It was the end of a long day, so some of the finer tendrils were loose around his ears, but Merrick found that he liked the unpolished look. Life could be so boring otherwise.

  “Would you mind?” Merrick asked the man, though he should’ve turned to his own valet for assistance. But Geoffrey would need to don his reading glasses, and besides, something about the footman kept him riveted.

  “Certainly, sir,” he replied as Merrick lifted his arm to expose his cuff.

  The footman’s hands were warm and slightly clammy, and Merrick pondered whether he made the servant nervous. Certainly, he’d had that effect before, but normally on interested ladies or business associates attempting to win his favor.

  “Why these frivolous embellishments are necessary remains a mystery,” Merrick remarked to try and lighten the mood. But also because he somewhat loathed all the pomp and circumstance of royal life, though he rarely got to complain to anybody besides Geoffrey, who seldom offered commentary, just allowed him to sulk in silence.

  “A mystery that may never be solved,” the footman replied. “I’ve never had the honor to wear them—thank goodness—but I suppose it completes the polished look.”

  A smirk lined the servant’s lips a moment before it was gone, and Merrick wondered if he was poking fun at their customs or only being awkward and shy.

  “Indeed,” Merrick replied, and even though the footman had already affixed the cuff link, he remained close, seemingly lost in thought.

  Geoffrey cleared his throat. “We must be on our way, Your Highness.”

  Merrick startled, and the servant took a wide step back as if remembering his place.

  Merrick turned toward his valet, who stood waiting beside the open motorcar door, then quickly twisted back around. “Thank you again. Though I am afraid your name has escaped me.”

  “Cassius—Your Highness,” the footman replied as he bowed his head, and Merrick noticed the tinge of pink along his cheeks.

  “Cassius. Now I remember.” Merrick tipped his chin in farewell and slid into the back seat of the black automobile, attempting to shake the intriguing footman from his mind and focus on the lovely lady who was about to make his acquaintance.

  2

  Cassius

  It was difficult not to view someone like Prince Merrick with a quiet disdain Cassius regretted feeling but couldn’t seem to control. It was like a vicious bacteria sometimes, eating away at him, taking over his body bit by bit. He didn’t want to be so angry. He didn’t want to look at the world through jaded eyes. It wasn’t Prince Merrick specifically, but what he represented, what every royal or aristocrat represented: things he would never have.

  It wasn’t wealth or standing he desired—only the ability to comfortably provide for his family. His father had spent a lifetime working himself to the bone to care for Cas, his mother, and his two sisters. The moment Cas was of age to work, he’d done the same while quietly yearning for what his father had always called foolish dreams. “It is okay to have dreams, Cas. But you must also be realistic. There is a time and place for such thoughts. Dreams do not put food on the table.”

  His chest pinched at his father’s voice in his head. It was so fresh, his death, and Cas couldn’t help but wonder if his voice would always be so clear in his memory. Would it fade over time?

  The sound of a door closing came from the west hall. Cas had just finished his afternoon chores of lighting fireplaces and polishing silverware. He held his head high, posture perfect, as he walked to the door and waited in case he needed to open it. Simultaneously, he wondered why it should matter how he stood. Did they appreciate what they had or notice what others did not? Becoming a royal was not something they had worked for. The family had been born into royalty, the same way Cas and his parents before him had been born as commoners.

  Cassius gritted his teeth and tried to tame his frustration. His father would be disappointed in him, but Cas had never been as good of a man as he. Cas was moody, standoffish, and easily annoyed, especially as of late.

  “Did my dear brother leave?” Cassius heard Princess Marjorie ask.

  “Yes, ma’am, some time ago,” her lady maid replied as they approached the stairs, across from where Cas stood. “He was to court Lady Angelica.”

  Earlier in the day, he’d heard Queen Edeline speaking of the woman her son was to court as though she were the answer to some private prayer. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was as if the lady herself did not matter—only their desired outcome. They wanted the prince wed; that much was obvious.

  The princess sighed and shook her head, making Cas wonder what might be troubling her. She caught his eye, and Cas bowed. “Do you require anything, Your Highness?”

  “No, thank you,” she replied with a smile before the two women made their way up the grand staircase decorated with gold and red carpeting, and disappeared.

  Cassius recalled the prince flinching slightly when his valet had reminded him that they must be on their way, and wondered if it had anything to do with the princess’s disconcerting response to the news. Not that he cared or that it was any of his concern. He doubted the prince counted his blessings; more than likely, he had not a care in the world—especially when he was off gallivanting with society ladies.

  Yet something in the deep brown of his eyes hadn’t looked quite as smug as Cas would have expected, and that surprised him. He’d seen the prince often, of course, but it was typically from a distance. They had much less contact when Cas worked in the kitchens. He’d just been promoted to footman weeks before, and the other moments he’d been in the prince’s company had been when more people were nearby and he’d been busy with his family.

  What am I doing? Why must I overthink this?

  Because the prince was beautiful, of course. His eyes deep and penetrating, with dark, thick lashes that touched his cheeks when he closed his lids. His chestnut hair had been styled immaculately, and Cas had felt the strange urge to muss it. Everything about him, about all of them, was perfect—and that just made the fire of Cas’s annoyance burn hotter.

  When his replacement footman came to relieve him, Cas excused himself with a heavy ache in his gut he did not quite understand. He made his way to his chamber in the servants’ quarters, which held only a small bed, plain table, chest of drawers, and a closet without a door. His room at home wasn’t much larger, but at least there he felt like he belonged.

  First things first. He dug his own slightly wrinkled clothes from his drawers, and that made him smile. He could not wait to feel at ease instead of so pressed and tidy.

  Cas used the unoccupied bathroom to wash
himself before he shook out his slacks and pulled them on. His long-sleeved shirt was thick, plain, and worn, just how he liked it.

  Once he had on his jacket and gloves, he made his way down the servants’ hallway and out the back door to the worn path most servants frequented, out of the public eye, of course. Servants should always be hidden.

  Before he allowed the anger to dig its claws into him again, he walked to the woods, to the stump that all the servants knew was his favorite spot. Cas pulled the small journal and pen from his jacket pocket.

  It lay frozen in the snow.

  A glint of royal adornment from his cuff.

  He bent to feel the cool metal in his fingers.

  Maybe he was not so put together after all…

  “Cas?”

  Cas shook his head at the sound of Valor’s voice behind him.

  “I uttered your name three times.”

  “Did it cross your mind that I was busy?” Cas turned and cocked a brow at his friend.

  “Or maybe you are just pouting. You are forever pouting, my friend.”

  “I am not.” He shoved the journal safely back into his pocket where Valor wouldn’t eye it, though Valor had stopped asking to read anything Cas wrote; he’d learned a long time ago that Cas would always say no.