Evil Author Day: Love Will Guide You Home (NCIS)
I started working on this story after Nano last year (2020), but was rather quickly distracted by other things. I love the idea and do plan to finish it at some point, but other projects have had to take priority. Also, this is clearly another Hallmark Christmas Movie (TM) story, so while I may finish it, I wouldn't post it until December. So, enjoy what's here and I promise I'll work on it when I have time.
~o~
The plane banked as it approached the airport, so Ellie took the opportunity to get her first glimpse of Toscana.
The tiny principality sat on the Adriatic Sea, tucked between Italy and Slovenia. Rolling green hills flowed away from a turquoise blue sea, the landscape dotted by cows and little houses. Looming up ahead, on a hill overlooking the marina, stood a grand palace.
It was beautiful and idyllic, and she was looking forward to seeing some of the sights she'd only read about. Well, whatever she could fit in, anyway. She was there to do a job, so free time might be hard to find.
She heard the flight attendant requesting that passengers fasten their seatbelts, so she locked hers into place and tucked her laptop into the seat pocket in front of her. The landscape flashed by as the plane approached the airport, and before she knew it, they were on the ground.
Passing through passport control was easy considering she'd transited through Munich on the way over from Washington. Since it was a small plane, it took only a few minutes for her luggage to appear on the carousel. She just had one small suitcase, which she easily hoisted off the carousel and tugged out to the curb.
She'd been told that someone would meet her, but she wasn't expecting the large black Mercedes SUV sitting at the curb with a rather distinctive coat of arms on the door. A gentleman with silver hair and an expensive-looking black suit stood beside it, a severe look on his face making her feel like a teenager caught out after curfew.
"Ms. Bishop?" he said, startling her out of her thoughts.
"Yes, I'm Eleanor Bishop," she said.
"I'm here to pick you up and escort you to the palace," he said. "If you'll allow me?"
"Of course," she said.
She watched as he took her small suitcase and stowed it in the back of the SUV. He opened the back door and took her hand as he helped her inside. She set about latching her seatbelt as he jogged around the vehicle and slid deftly behind the wheel.
"We'll be at the palace in about twenty minutes," he told her as he pulled away from the airport.
"Thanks," she said. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You can ask," he said.
She frowned. Seemed like taciturn was his default setting. "Are you American?"
"I am," he said.
"So, how does an American wind up being a chauffeur in a small European principality?"
"He asked."
When the man didn't offer anything else, Ellie sighed. So much for small talk. Instead of trying to draw him out any more, she turned her attention to the scenery flowing by as they drove from the airport to the palace.
It really was a lovely country; the roads were well-kept and the architecture was stunning. From her research she knew Toscana had been established in the Middle Ages, by Royal Grant from Charlemagne himself. The DiNozzo family had ruled in Toscana for generations, and the current prince, Antonio Dominic, was rumored to be young, handsome and charming.
Sooner than she'd expected they were pulling up in front of the palace. There was a young-ish gentleman in a light grey suit standing at the top of the drive, presumably waiting for her. Her chauffeur helped her out of the SUV and walked her over to the other man.
"Ms. Bishop, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.
She took it, smiling at him. "Is everyone around here American?"
"Not everyone," he said with a chuckle. "I'm Timothy McGee, Prince Antonio's personal assistant. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room. You can freshen up there before lunch."
Ellie almost stumbled on the steps. "Wait, I'm staying here?"
"Yes," Mr. McGee said. He frowned. "Weren't you told that we'd made arrangements for your stay?"
"Well, yes, but I thought that meant staying at a hotel," she said. "Not that I'm not grateful. I'm just surprised."
"The Prince is pleased with your interest in his grandmother's art collection," he said. "To facilitate your access to the collection, he suggested you might want to stay here."
"I'm… overwhelmed," she said, shaking her head. "Please let him know that I appreciate his hospitality."
"Oh, you can tell him yourself at lunch," McGee said. "You'll be dining with the Prince before he shows you the collection."
Ellie wasn't sure but she thought she might have blacked out a little. "I see."
"If you're worried at all about meeting him, don't be," he said. "The Prince doesn't bite, I promise."
"Well, that's good," she said faintly.
"Come, I'll take you to your room," he said. "I've left my number next to the phone, so if you need anything at all while you're here, just call. I'm happy to help."
~o~
An hour later, McGee was escorting her through the palace to what she presumed was a huge, stuffy dining hall for lunch. She was both looking forward to it and dreading it. How did one address a Prince who was both American by birth and royal at the same time?
All around her, there were palace employees in fine livery hanging holiday decorations, which was confusing considering it was two days after Christmas.
"Shouldn't they be taking down the decorations by now, not adding more?" she asked as they walked down yet another hallway. At this rate, she wouldn't be able to find her room without a compass and a map.
McGee chuckled. "The Prince loves this time of year, so I don't think there's a such thing as too many decorations in his world. But, to answer your question, Christmas is just the start of the holidays in Toscana. We celebrate Christmas with our families, and then the palace hosts a large New Year's Eve Gala, all building up to Epiphany, which is the real celebration around here. It's when we exchange gifts, and most families have large gatherings with relatives and friends."
"Wow, I had no idea," Ellie said. "So, I'm basically interrupting your holiday celebration. I wish I'd known. I'd have planned my trip for after… just when is Epiphany, anyway?"
"Epiphany takes place on the twelfth night after Christmas," McGee said.
"Oh, like the Shakespeare play," she said.
"Exactly," he said. They turned another corner and headed straight for a set of double doors. McGee stopped outside and faced her with his hand on the knob. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be," she said. "I've never met royalty before, so I'm probably going to mess this up."
"Just remember, speak when spoken to, and only touch him if he initiates it," he said. "You'll do fine. He's not as stuffy as some royalty. He grew up in the US, after all."
"Right," she said. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, tugging self-consciously on the jacket she'd thrown over her sweater. "Okay, I'm ready."
McGee nodded, turned and opened the door before she could change her mind. They entered a large salon decorated rather formally in blues and greys. It was a beautiful room, with a large fireplace dominating one wall and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a gorgeous view of the grounds of the palace.
The art was what caught her attention. There were some familiar paintings in the room; paintings that she knew to be part of the Toscanan collection, but there were also a couple that she'd never seen before. She was itching to get her hands on her computer to research the one's she wasn't familiar with, but she fisted her hands at her side and tried to focus on the man standing near the fireplace.
"Your Highness, may I present Eleanor Bishop," McGee said as he approached the Prince. He turned around and Ellie's heart stopped. He was-not to be cliché about it-gorgeous. Very GQ in his presumably-custom-tailored charcoal suit and red silk tie, with his hair slicked back and a charming smile on his face. "Ms. Bishop, His Serene Highness, Prince Antonio di Toscana."
Ellie wasn't sure if she should curtsey, bow or just faint. Some of what she was feeling must have shown in her behavior because he smiled at her and held out his hand.
"Ms. Bishop," he said as she took his hand in a firm grip. He was gentle with her, squeezing once before he allowed her hand to drop. If it affected him as much as it did her, he didn't show it. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've been looking forward to your visit for some time."
"I apologize for coming during the holidays," she said in a rush. "I had no idea you were in the midst of your celebrations. I'd have never presumed to come if-"
"Please," he said, holding up a hand to stop her rambling. "Our private, family celebrations took place a couple of days ago. Unfortunately, I don't get to take the whole two weeks off as my people expect me to be out in public, celebrating the New Year and Epiphany, so I don't get as much time off as I'd like."
"The perks of being the one in charge?" she asked.
The Prince chuckled. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I saw you looking at the art when you entered the room."
"Yes!" she said enthusiastically. "There are a couple of pieces I don't remember seeing on the Toscanan museum's website. I'm assuming they're private collection pieces."
"They are," the Prince said. "My many-greats-grandmother was an avid collector. These pieces are from her personal collection and not part of the National Archive. This salon was actually her favorite. I thought you'd enjoy eating here as opposed to the formal dining room. That way you can enjoy the paintings along with your lunch."
"I-thank you," she stammered. "That would be great."
"Thank you, Tim," the Prince said.
McGee bowed to his Prince, then turned and smiled at Ellie. "I'll have someone escort you back to your rooms after lunch. Enjoy."
"Thank you," she murmured.
McGee left the room, and suddenly she was alone in a fancy salon with a Prince, and no earthly idea of what to do with herself.
"You can relax now," the Prince said, flashing a smile. "I promise I don't bite."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I've just never met a Prince before. I didn't honestly know I was going to meet you today. Or ever, really. I have no idea what to do now."
"Well, lucky for you I'm not much for formality," he said. "So, if you'd like, you can call me Tony when we're in private."
Ellie practically choked on her own spit. "I'm not sure I can do that. You're a Prince, and I'm a doctoral student at George Washington University. Totally different worlds."
"I grew up in New York. Did you know?" he asked. When she shook her head, he tilted his own in the direction of the opposite side of the room, where the two outside walls met. There was a table all set for their meal in the corner where the windows gave an expansive view of the grounds. She followed him as he led the way. "My mother's family is originally from England, but my uncle and a cousin live in New York. I went to the Ohio State University, where I majored in Sports Psychology and Kinesiology. I even played football and basketball for a while."
"I read the biographical data your office sent," she said. "I was kind of surprised that your schooling was featured so prominently. I mean, I'd have thought they'd emphasize the part where you went to the Sorbonne. That seems like a more… princely endeavor."
"And so it was," Tony said. "When my cousin died, my uncle asked me to step in as heir. I wasn't planning on becoming royalty. After my knee injury, I'd actually decided on a career in law enforcement."
"This is nowhere near that," Elli said.
She allowed him to hold out her chair and settled her in it before he sat down. It made her uncomfortable, but the briefing document she read said that above all, she should follow his lead, no matter what.
"Tell me about it," he said with a huff. "My father's brother took over the Principality in his twenties, but he was also raised here. I honestly thought that being from the States would be a detriment, but the people of Toscana have embraced me in a way that was surprising and satisfying. I feel like I've always lived here. It's… special."
"I'm glad you're able to feel at home here," she said. "You know they call you 'The American Prince' back home, right?"
Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes, I've seen the press. Will and Kate get the same treatment in the press, and they're not even Americans. Of course, Harry and Meghan do, too. Rags to riches and all that."
"Have you met other royals?" she asked. Just then, a server came in pushing a cart. He set various dishes on the table, bowed to the Prince and made a hasty exit.
"I have," he said. "It's so odd. I'm now on a first name basis with people I'd only read about in the papers, so to speak."
He served her some of the pasta and bread, and poured her a glass full of something sparkling. She took a sip, surprised to find that it wasn't alcoholic, just a sparkling juice of some sort. Sweet, but not too sweet.
"That's a Toscanan specialty," he said, tipping his own glass to indicate what he was talking about. "Sparkling Moscato, non-alcoholic. We usually drink it on Christmas. I thought you'd enjoy sampling some, since you missed Christmas in Toscana."
"Thank you, it's lovely," she said.
"Well, eat up," he said, winking at her. "I plan to walk your legs off this afternoon. We'll cover the museum top to bottom, so come with your notebook and be prepared to ask questions."
"You're giving the tour?" she asked, slightly shocked. "I thought the museum curator would be showing me around."
"Well, she would be, but we're without curator at the moment."
"What happened?" she asked. "I just spoke with her a couple of weeks ago and everything seemed fine."
Tony's lips thinned. "Let's just say that we had a difference of opinion that led to her departure."
"Okay," Ellie said. She could see that he wouldn't be pushed to get more specific than that, so she dropped it, making note to ask McGee later. "Anything else I should know?"
Tony smiled. "Oh, Eleanor, how much time do you have?"
~o~
Lunch had been lovely. The food was amazing-the Prince's grandmother's favorite Pasta Alpina recipe, apparently-and they'd wandered around the room for a bit afterwards so Ellie could get a good look at the paintings in the room.
She'd been surprised to find that they were all from the same artist: Ettore Segretti, a Toscanan artist from the Renaissance period. The painting above the fireplace had caught her interest right away, as it had apparently been painted right there in that very room, as a gift to the sister of the Prince.
The view of the grounds from the windows was beautiful, but what made Ellie nearly choke on her own spit was the barely-visible couple making love under the tree in the distance. Tony had merely chuckled and explained that the artist and his man-greats aunt had carried on a torrid affair for many years, and this painting was his tribute to her.
It was no wonder it was hanging in the private family apartment instead of in the museum.
After lunch, she'd freshened up and grabbed her notebook-she'd been warned she wouldn't have time to type out notes-and joined the Prince downstairs for the short trip to the Museo Nazzionale di Arte.
They'd wandered through many rooms, looking at examples of everything from realism to cubism to impressionism. Her head was spinning with stories of how each painting had been acquired. Tony had turned out to be a passionate tour guide who clearly loved the art his principality had collected over the years.
"I suppose it's a way to connect me to those who came before me," he said as they wandered into the Toscanan wing of the museum, their last stop on the tour. "My grandmother was an avid art collector herself. I'd only visited Toscana a few times as a child, but I remember her talking about the paintings as we wandered through the palace."
"That must have been wonderful," Ellie said.
"It was," he said. "What drew you to art, if I may ask?"
Ellie shrugged. "I love digging for information, so art history appealed to me. There's so much we still don't know about the Masters. You can learn a lot from just looking at the paintings. Style, materials, subject, they all tell a story. And then there's the story of who owned the painting. Sometimes, the path the painting follows is more interesting than the painting itself."
Which was all true, if not the whole story. She loved art, and what it said about the human condition, but academia was wearing on her. She wasn't sure what she'd do once she achieved her PhD if not go into teaching or research, but she knew it'd have to be as far from the university as she could get.
"Interesting," the prince said. "I'd never thought of it that way."
They paused in front of another painting by Segretti. This one was a slice of life painting, of a family at dinner. Laughter and love radiated off the canvas, drawing a smile out of Ellie. She liked how playful Segretti was, how he always added details to his paintings that spoke of people and places he cared about. She noticed a tiny figure in the corner of the painting. There was something familiar about it, so she leaned in to get a better look.
"That's-" She straightened up and looked at the prince. "Is that Massimo Topo? From the children's books?"
"It is," he said with a fond smile.
"But those books were written by an American author," she said.
"Yes, they were," he said. "Kelly McGee is actually married to my deputy, Tim. She fell in love with this painting as a child, when she visited the museum on a school trip. She used to spin stories about that little mouse every time I saw her. Eventually, she turned those stories into a series of children's books. With my permission, of course."
"Wow," Ellie said. "I'm impressed. I had no idea that she'd grown up in Toscana, much less taken her inspiration from this painting."
"This isn't actually the only one that the mouse figures in," the prince said. "Here, let me show you."
They stopped a few more canvases where he pointed out the mouse in the background of each one, making Ellie smile each time. Clearly, the prince was as delighted by it as she was.
"This is all so amazing," she said as they returned to the foyer of the museum. "Thank you for showing me around, though you didn't have to close the museum just for me."
"They're normally closed on Monday, so it was no trouble," he said with a wink. "Though they do close it whenever I want to visit, because it gets crazy in here if they don't."
"Learned that one the hard way, huh?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," he said.
"Does the museum have plans to acquire more pieces?" she asked as they headed for the door,
The Prince stopped in his tracks. He looked at her, a curious tilt to his head. "Would you like to see something completely off the normal tour?"
"Yes?" she said, though it sounded more like a question than she was comfortable with. Anything to spend more time with him, though she wasn't going to mention that out loud for anything.
~o~
~o~
The plane banked as it approached the airport, so Ellie took the opportunity to get her first glimpse of Toscana.
The tiny principality sat on the Adriatic Sea, tucked between Italy and Slovenia. Rolling green hills flowed away from a turquoise blue sea, the landscape dotted by cows and little houses. Looming up ahead, on a hill overlooking the marina, stood a grand palace.
It was beautiful and idyllic, and she was looking forward to seeing some of the sights she'd only read about. Well, whatever she could fit in, anyway. She was there to do a job, so free time might be hard to find.
She heard the flight attendant requesting that passengers fasten their seatbelts, so she locked hers into place and tucked her laptop into the seat pocket in front of her. The landscape flashed by as the plane approached the airport, and before she knew it, they were on the ground.
Passing through passport control was easy considering she'd transited through Munich on the way over from Washington. Since it was a small plane, it took only a few minutes for her luggage to appear on the carousel. She just had one small suitcase, which she easily hoisted off the carousel and tugged out to the curb.
She'd been told that someone would meet her, but she wasn't expecting the large black Mercedes SUV sitting at the curb with a rather distinctive coat of arms on the door. A gentleman with silver hair and an expensive-looking black suit stood beside it, a severe look on his face making her feel like a teenager caught out after curfew.
"Ms. Bishop?" he said, startling her out of her thoughts.
"Yes, I'm Eleanor Bishop," she said.
"I'm here to pick you up and escort you to the palace," he said. "If you'll allow me?"
"Of course," she said.
She watched as he took her small suitcase and stowed it in the back of the SUV. He opened the back door and took her hand as he helped her inside. She set about latching her seatbelt as he jogged around the vehicle and slid deftly behind the wheel.
"We'll be at the palace in about twenty minutes," he told her as he pulled away from the airport.
"Thanks," she said. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You can ask," he said.
She frowned. Seemed like taciturn was his default setting. "Are you American?"
"I am," he said.
"So, how does an American wind up being a chauffeur in a small European principality?"
"He asked."
When the man didn't offer anything else, Ellie sighed. So much for small talk. Instead of trying to draw him out any more, she turned her attention to the scenery flowing by as they drove from the airport to the palace.
It really was a lovely country; the roads were well-kept and the architecture was stunning. From her research she knew Toscana had been established in the Middle Ages, by Royal Grant from Charlemagne himself. The DiNozzo family had ruled in Toscana for generations, and the current prince, Antonio Dominic, was rumored to be young, handsome and charming.
Sooner than she'd expected they were pulling up in front of the palace. There was a young-ish gentleman in a light grey suit standing at the top of the drive, presumably waiting for her. Her chauffeur helped her out of the SUV and walked her over to the other man.
"Ms. Bishop, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.
She took it, smiling at him. "Is everyone around here American?"
"Not everyone," he said with a chuckle. "I'm Timothy McGee, Prince Antonio's personal assistant. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room. You can freshen up there before lunch."
Ellie almost stumbled on the steps. "Wait, I'm staying here?"
"Yes," Mr. McGee said. He frowned. "Weren't you told that we'd made arrangements for your stay?"
"Well, yes, but I thought that meant staying at a hotel," she said. "Not that I'm not grateful. I'm just surprised."
"The Prince is pleased with your interest in his grandmother's art collection," he said. "To facilitate your access to the collection, he suggested you might want to stay here."
"I'm… overwhelmed," she said, shaking her head. "Please let him know that I appreciate his hospitality."
"Oh, you can tell him yourself at lunch," McGee said. "You'll be dining with the Prince before he shows you the collection."
Ellie wasn't sure but she thought she might have blacked out a little. "I see."
"If you're worried at all about meeting him, don't be," he said. "The Prince doesn't bite, I promise."
"Well, that's good," she said faintly.
"Come, I'll take you to your room," he said. "I've left my number next to the phone, so if you need anything at all while you're here, just call. I'm happy to help."
~o~
An hour later, McGee was escorting her through the palace to what she presumed was a huge, stuffy dining hall for lunch. She was both looking forward to it and dreading it. How did one address a Prince who was both American by birth and royal at the same time?
All around her, there were palace employees in fine livery hanging holiday decorations, which was confusing considering it was two days after Christmas.
"Shouldn't they be taking down the decorations by now, not adding more?" she asked as they walked down yet another hallway. At this rate, she wouldn't be able to find her room without a compass and a map.
McGee chuckled. "The Prince loves this time of year, so I don't think there's a such thing as too many decorations in his world. But, to answer your question, Christmas is just the start of the holidays in Toscana. We celebrate Christmas with our families, and then the palace hosts a large New Year's Eve Gala, all building up to Epiphany, which is the real celebration around here. It's when we exchange gifts, and most families have large gatherings with relatives and friends."
"Wow, I had no idea," Ellie said. "So, I'm basically interrupting your holiday celebration. I wish I'd known. I'd have planned my trip for after… just when is Epiphany, anyway?"
"Epiphany takes place on the twelfth night after Christmas," McGee said.
"Oh, like the Shakespeare play," she said.
"Exactly," he said. They turned another corner and headed straight for a set of double doors. McGee stopped outside and faced her with his hand on the knob. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be," she said. "I've never met royalty before, so I'm probably going to mess this up."
"Just remember, speak when spoken to, and only touch him if he initiates it," he said. "You'll do fine. He's not as stuffy as some royalty. He grew up in the US, after all."
"Right," she said. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, tugging self-consciously on the jacket she'd thrown over her sweater. "Okay, I'm ready."
McGee nodded, turned and opened the door before she could change her mind. They entered a large salon decorated rather formally in blues and greys. It was a beautiful room, with a large fireplace dominating one wall and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a gorgeous view of the grounds of the palace.
The art was what caught her attention. There were some familiar paintings in the room; paintings that she knew to be part of the Toscanan collection, but there were also a couple that she'd never seen before. She was itching to get her hands on her computer to research the one's she wasn't familiar with, but she fisted her hands at her side and tried to focus on the man standing near the fireplace.
"Your Highness, may I present Eleanor Bishop," McGee said as he approached the Prince. He turned around and Ellie's heart stopped. He was-not to be cliché about it-gorgeous. Very GQ in his presumably-custom-tailored charcoal suit and red silk tie, with his hair slicked back and a charming smile on his face. "Ms. Bishop, His Serene Highness, Prince Antonio di Toscana."
Ellie wasn't sure if she should curtsey, bow or just faint. Some of what she was feeling must have shown in her behavior because he smiled at her and held out his hand.
"Ms. Bishop," he said as she took his hand in a firm grip. He was gentle with her, squeezing once before he allowed her hand to drop. If it affected him as much as it did her, he didn't show it. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've been looking forward to your visit for some time."
"I apologize for coming during the holidays," she said in a rush. "I had no idea you were in the midst of your celebrations. I'd have never presumed to come if-"
"Please," he said, holding up a hand to stop her rambling. "Our private, family celebrations took place a couple of days ago. Unfortunately, I don't get to take the whole two weeks off as my people expect me to be out in public, celebrating the New Year and Epiphany, so I don't get as much time off as I'd like."
"The perks of being the one in charge?" she asked.
The Prince chuckled. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I saw you looking at the art when you entered the room."
"Yes!" she said enthusiastically. "There are a couple of pieces I don't remember seeing on the Toscanan museum's website. I'm assuming they're private collection pieces."
"They are," the Prince said. "My many-greats-grandmother was an avid collector. These pieces are from her personal collection and not part of the National Archive. This salon was actually her favorite. I thought you'd enjoy eating here as opposed to the formal dining room. That way you can enjoy the paintings along with your lunch."
"I-thank you," she stammered. "That would be great."
"Thank you, Tim," the Prince said.
McGee bowed to his Prince, then turned and smiled at Ellie. "I'll have someone escort you back to your rooms after lunch. Enjoy."
"Thank you," she murmured.
McGee left the room, and suddenly she was alone in a fancy salon with a Prince, and no earthly idea of what to do with herself.
"You can relax now," the Prince said, flashing a smile. "I promise I don't bite."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I've just never met a Prince before. I didn't honestly know I was going to meet you today. Or ever, really. I have no idea what to do now."
"Well, lucky for you I'm not much for formality," he said. "So, if you'd like, you can call me Tony when we're in private."
Ellie practically choked on her own spit. "I'm not sure I can do that. You're a Prince, and I'm a doctoral student at George Washington University. Totally different worlds."
"I grew up in New York. Did you know?" he asked. When she shook her head, he tilted his own in the direction of the opposite side of the room, where the two outside walls met. There was a table all set for their meal in the corner where the windows gave an expansive view of the grounds. She followed him as he led the way. "My mother's family is originally from England, but my uncle and a cousin live in New York. I went to the Ohio State University, where I majored in Sports Psychology and Kinesiology. I even played football and basketball for a while."
"I read the biographical data your office sent," she said. "I was kind of surprised that your schooling was featured so prominently. I mean, I'd have thought they'd emphasize the part where you went to the Sorbonne. That seems like a more… princely endeavor."
"And so it was," Tony said. "When my cousin died, my uncle asked me to step in as heir. I wasn't planning on becoming royalty. After my knee injury, I'd actually decided on a career in law enforcement."
"This is nowhere near that," Elli said.
She allowed him to hold out her chair and settled her in it before he sat down. It made her uncomfortable, but the briefing document she read said that above all, she should follow his lead, no matter what.
"Tell me about it," he said with a huff. "My father's brother took over the Principality in his twenties, but he was also raised here. I honestly thought that being from the States would be a detriment, but the people of Toscana have embraced me in a way that was surprising and satisfying. I feel like I've always lived here. It's… special."
"I'm glad you're able to feel at home here," she said. "You know they call you 'The American Prince' back home, right?"
Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes, I've seen the press. Will and Kate get the same treatment in the press, and they're not even Americans. Of course, Harry and Meghan do, too. Rags to riches and all that."
"Have you met other royals?" she asked. Just then, a server came in pushing a cart. He set various dishes on the table, bowed to the Prince and made a hasty exit.
"I have," he said. "It's so odd. I'm now on a first name basis with people I'd only read about in the papers, so to speak."
He served her some of the pasta and bread, and poured her a glass full of something sparkling. She took a sip, surprised to find that it wasn't alcoholic, just a sparkling juice of some sort. Sweet, but not too sweet.
"That's a Toscanan specialty," he said, tipping his own glass to indicate what he was talking about. "Sparkling Moscato, non-alcoholic. We usually drink it on Christmas. I thought you'd enjoy sampling some, since you missed Christmas in Toscana."
"Thank you, it's lovely," she said.
"Well, eat up," he said, winking at her. "I plan to walk your legs off this afternoon. We'll cover the museum top to bottom, so come with your notebook and be prepared to ask questions."
"You're giving the tour?" she asked, slightly shocked. "I thought the museum curator would be showing me around."
"Well, she would be, but we're without curator at the moment."
"What happened?" she asked. "I just spoke with her a couple of weeks ago and everything seemed fine."
Tony's lips thinned. "Let's just say that we had a difference of opinion that led to her departure."
"Okay," Ellie said. She could see that he wouldn't be pushed to get more specific than that, so she dropped it, making note to ask McGee later. "Anything else I should know?"
Tony smiled. "Oh, Eleanor, how much time do you have?"
~o~
Lunch had been lovely. The food was amazing-the Prince's grandmother's favorite Pasta Alpina recipe, apparently-and they'd wandered around the room for a bit afterwards so Ellie could get a good look at the paintings in the room.
She'd been surprised to find that they were all from the same artist: Ettore Segretti, a Toscanan artist from the Renaissance period. The painting above the fireplace had caught her interest right away, as it had apparently been painted right there in that very room, as a gift to the sister of the Prince.
The view of the grounds from the windows was beautiful, but what made Ellie nearly choke on her own spit was the barely-visible couple making love under the tree in the distance. Tony had merely chuckled and explained that the artist and his man-greats aunt had carried on a torrid affair for many years, and this painting was his tribute to her.
It was no wonder it was hanging in the private family apartment instead of in the museum.
After lunch, she'd freshened up and grabbed her notebook-she'd been warned she wouldn't have time to type out notes-and joined the Prince downstairs for the short trip to the Museo Nazzionale di Arte.
They'd wandered through many rooms, looking at examples of everything from realism to cubism to impressionism. Her head was spinning with stories of how each painting had been acquired. Tony had turned out to be a passionate tour guide who clearly loved the art his principality had collected over the years.
"I suppose it's a way to connect me to those who came before me," he said as they wandered into the Toscanan wing of the museum, their last stop on the tour. "My grandmother was an avid art collector herself. I'd only visited Toscana a few times as a child, but I remember her talking about the paintings as we wandered through the palace."
"That must have been wonderful," Ellie said.
"It was," he said. "What drew you to art, if I may ask?"
Ellie shrugged. "I love digging for information, so art history appealed to me. There's so much we still don't know about the Masters. You can learn a lot from just looking at the paintings. Style, materials, subject, they all tell a story. And then there's the story of who owned the painting. Sometimes, the path the painting follows is more interesting than the painting itself."
Which was all true, if not the whole story. She loved art, and what it said about the human condition, but academia was wearing on her. She wasn't sure what she'd do once she achieved her PhD if not go into teaching or research, but she knew it'd have to be as far from the university as she could get.
"Interesting," the prince said. "I'd never thought of it that way."
They paused in front of another painting by Segretti. This one was a slice of life painting, of a family at dinner. Laughter and love radiated off the canvas, drawing a smile out of Ellie. She liked how playful Segretti was, how he always added details to his paintings that spoke of people and places he cared about. She noticed a tiny figure in the corner of the painting. There was something familiar about it, so she leaned in to get a better look.
"That's-" She straightened up and looked at the prince. "Is that Massimo Topo? From the children's books?"
"It is," he said with a fond smile.
"But those books were written by an American author," she said.
"Yes, they were," he said. "Kelly McGee is actually married to my deputy, Tim. She fell in love with this painting as a child, when she visited the museum on a school trip. She used to spin stories about that little mouse every time I saw her. Eventually, she turned those stories into a series of children's books. With my permission, of course."
"Wow," Ellie said. "I'm impressed. I had no idea that she'd grown up in Toscana, much less taken her inspiration from this painting."
"This isn't actually the only one that the mouse figures in," the prince said. "Here, let me show you."
They stopped a few more canvases where he pointed out the mouse in the background of each one, making Ellie smile each time. Clearly, the prince was as delighted by it as she was.
"This is all so amazing," she said as they returned to the foyer of the museum. "Thank you for showing me around, though you didn't have to close the museum just for me."
"They're normally closed on Monday, so it was no trouble," he said with a wink. "Though they do close it whenever I want to visit, because it gets crazy in here if they don't."
"Learned that one the hard way, huh?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," he said.
"Does the museum have plans to acquire more pieces?" she asked as they headed for the door,
The Prince stopped in his tracks. He looked at her, a curious tilt to his head. "Would you like to see something completely off the normal tour?"
"Yes?" she said, though it sounded more like a question than she was comfortable with. Anything to spend more time with him, though she wasn't going to mention that out loud for anything.
~o~