Once Upon a Prince

TWELVE



Dusk came to St. Simons Island like a celestial kaleidoscope, the heavens turning from one vibrant color to another.

But the most beautiful sight to Nathaniel was the flowing gold of Susanna’s hair as she challenged him to a race and sped off before she hollered go.

She greeted everyone she met on the day’s outing as if they were true friends indeed. She introduced him as her friend, Nate Kenneth. But if he had his way, he’d be more than a friend. Much more.

When they stopped for ice cream, he lost one of his two scoops in the dirt when he failed to maneuver his bike down the road with any kind of schoolboy skill.

She laughed over the incident for the next mile, head back, mouth wide, and Nathaniel had half a mind to do the trick all over again just to hear that sound.

He liked the picture of her right now best of all, sitting on a carpet of green beneath the live oaks of Christ Church.

“This was a good idea, prince.” She’d started calling him “prince” somewhere along the way, and he rather liked it. It felt personal. Sincere.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes, stretched out her legs, reclined back, and locked her hands behind her head.

“I have my moments of brilliance.” Nathaniel rested his arms on his drawn-up knees and averted his gaze. It’d be so easy … to bend down … kiss her. But he could not. He knew better. Any such action would be entirely selfish, awakening a possible love he could never satisfy. In himself or Susanna.

She opened her eyes. “I forget the beauty and history of the island. Started taking it all for granted. The lighthouse and museum, Fort Frederica, the historic buildings.” She sat up. “Know what’s weird?”

“That pi is a mathematical term as well as something delicious to eat?”

She laughed and swatted at him. He caught her hand and the silk of her touch challenged his resolve not to pull her into him for a kiss.

“Goofy. Pi, p-i and pie, p-i-e, are not the same. They only sound the same. I meant what’s weird about today.”

“Not a thing.” He released her hand. So far, this day was at the top of his all-time, best-ever list.

“Every once in a while, it’d hit me—he’s a prince. A real honest-to-goodness prince. Then you’d do something whacky, like circle the roundabout until you were dizzy or lose your ice cream in the dirt. Or run into a tree.” She made a face. “I’m still trying to figure that one out.”

Staring at you.

“You had me laughing so hard I’d forget you were anyone or anything other than plain ol’ Nate.”

He regarded her for a moment. “Don’t take this wrong, Susanna. I’m most sincere when I say this, but I do believe that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Fine, whatever, you so lie, Nate Kenneth.” Susanna tipped her face to catch the last drop of sunlight, gentle, easy, relaxed. “Don’t make me google you to prove nicer things have been said about you.”

“About me? Yes. To me? No. And you can’t find those words on the internet.” Gone was the tentative woman on his porch this afternoon. She surged stronger with each hour in the sun, with each push of her bicycle pedal.

“Nate, don’t you ever consider who you are and why God called you?” Susanna turned to him, sitting cross-legged, touching knees to knees. “I used to climb out of my bedroom window, sit on the roof and stare at the stars, thinking, ‘I’m Susanna Truitt, born on St. Simons, for some purpose. I’m not an accident.’”

Her intensity disturbed his conviction that he wasn’t chosen by God but rather by birth order and parentage.

“But did God call me? Or men? What choice did I have? The first born of a king. My forefathers, along with all the kings of Europe, thought they were God ordained, above it all. We know now, that’s not the case.”

“What? Of course you’re called by God. I’m called by God. To do what, I don’t know, but I’m just as called as you.” He envied the confidence in her voice. He longed to drink from her well. “You are no accident. Isn’t there some place in Brighton history where … I don’t know … the family line took a turn? A second born became king? Or a nephew? Because the king had no children? Like that Grand Duke, Prince Francis.”

“Several times. In the last two centuries it happened twice, landing my great-great-grandfather as heir.”

“Nathaniel I?”

“What are you driving at, Susanna?”

“Your great-great-grandpa wasn’t supposed to be king, but he was, and he orchestrated the entail with Hessenberg.”

“And a hundred years later, here I am, the future King Nathaniel II, playing a pivotal role at the end of the agreement. I see what you’re driving at, but—”

“It’s no accident, Nate. You are in a position to impact two nations. To give independence to one of them. How incredible.” She breathed out a soft chuckle as she plucked up blades of grass. “People will do the craziest things to have their names recorded in history.”

“There are plenty of forgettable princes.”

“But not you. Do you realize how selfless you can be? You have nothing to lose.”

The conversation challenged him. Shoved him out of his well-worn, comfortable notion that he was the lowest of blokes because his high-ranking birth order denied him any choices.

“Susanna, we are all called to be selfless, to serve our fellow man, regardless of rank or birth order or where our names end up in history.”

“True, but it takes a lifetime and, I daresay, a kiss from the Holy Spirit for most of us to gain that understanding. You were born knowing your destiny. Most people never know. So what is easy for you. Well, easier.”

He rocked a solid laugh. “Might I borrow your eyes and ears for a while? You mistake us for superheroes. Princes doubt their destiny as much as any human. We are just as subject to selfishness and doubt as anyone, if not more. Of wanting to make a mark in the world because of who he is as a man, not a prince. Not because of his family. He’s afraid he’ll never be completely sure of his calling. He’s selfish of his time, his emotions, his talents because, blast it all, the government, the monarchy, the people want him, tug on him. He’s afraid if he surrenders for one moment he’ll never, ever get to be his true self again. If he’s ever been his true self at all.”

“Or, he can flip that all around in his head and realize being a prince is his true self. That he’s got a leg up on knowing who he is and what he was born to do.”

“So you stayed twelve years with a man who didn’t love you because you thought it was your destiny?” His words fell to the ground like hot rocks. Too late to retrieve them now. She’d bothered him, poked at him, so he wanted to poke back. Yet she was being kind. He was perfectly rude. “Susanna, I’m sorry, my comment was over the line.”

“But you’re right.” She sighed, turning away to stretch out on the lawn again. “I stayed because I wanted what you have. A sense of who I was and where I was going. Right or wrong, being Adam Peters’s fiancée gave me a road map to follow.” She stared at the stars. “Think of all the good you can do, Nate. How you can impact your people, the nations, for the Lord.”

“I’m not sure God uses people like me. Men in high, visible places. He likes men and women most people can’t see. Or haven’t ever heard of.”

“He’ll use any humble, willing heart, Nate.” She sat up. “Look at David and Solomon, your ancestor King Stephen. He went for God, didn’t he? Maybe God doesn’t use men like you because you’re too busy trying to be someone else.”

Mercy and all the saints, how did she do it? Crawled into his head, sorted through his thoughts, tossed away the rubbish, and polished the gems? “If he’s looking for humble hearts, then he’s found one in you, Susanna.”

“Well, if humble means broken …” She picked at the grass blades, tossing a few to the wind. “I’m preaching to myself here. I’ve got to figure out where my life goes from here. Breaking up with Adam doesn’t change who God is or his plan for me.”

“Tell you what … Why don’t we both tell God we are one hundred percent available to him?” He didn’t wait for her to respond but slipped his hands under hers and scooted close.

She gripped her fingers with his, and already he knew he’d hate her letting go. “Susanna, you impacted a nation because you impacted me.”

“Because you impacted me.” She firmed her grasp around his. “Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence we met that night at the tree.”

“No, perhaps not.” He released his heart to tumble headlong toward hers.

She looked up, checking the fading twilight. “Better get going soon. We’ll be riding home in the dark.”

“Might I pray? Or shall you?” Nathaniel had returned to his faith, to the Lord, last year, but praying aloud still proved a challenge.

“I’ll do it.” She inhaled. Exhaled. “Lord, here we are, Nate and me. One hundred percent available. We don’t know what’s ahead, but you do. Whatever it is, we’ll love it because you love us. And you are good.”

When her amen ended the prayer, a sweet breeze brushed between them. The tip of Susanna’s hair fluttered over his arm with the scent of vanilla. Neither one of them moved to release their hands.

With her prayer and her touch, Nathaniel felt certain he’d just experienced a little bit of heaven on earth.