Princess Thief: Stealing Your Heart (2 page)

Juliette
reached underneath the cash register and pulled out a rolled-up poster which
she then spread out flat on the counter, revealing a hand-drawn blueprint. 
“This is the
first floor layout,” she told her uncle.  “I sketched all of this while I was
consulting at the castle over the last three days.  Here is the ballroom and
here, on the other side of the castle, this is the gem room.”  She tapped the
blueprint with her index finger.

“Security?”
François asked.

“That’s
the beautiful part.  The Royal Guard is entirely focused on keeping people
out
of the
mansion.  There is screening at the front gate and your credentials are
inspected at the entrance to the castle - but once you
’re inside, the
security is practically non-existent.  Can you believe they don’t have a single
security camera inside the building?”

“Well,
the royal family
is
notoriously private.  What about the gem room?
”

“The
gem room has the bare minimum of deterrents - the windows are wired with an
alarm and the most valuable pieces are behind heavy glass.  But the piece I
want is practically lying out on the table.  It’s perfect.  Here, let me show
you.”  Juliette logged into her smartphone, pressed the screen a couple of
times, then showed the picture to her uncle.

“You
must be kidding.  It’s online?”

“All
of the Crown Jewels are.  Isn’t it wonderful?  It cuts my prep time in half.”

Fran
çois took the
smartphone from Juliette’s hand and began reading.  “Ah, I remember this
necklace,” he nodded.  “’Le Collier de Couronnement,’” he began quoting the
website.  “’The necklace consists of 23 graduated cushion-cut emeralds set in
silver with gold links, and a large 18 carat pendant emerald known as the
Bogotá Esmeralda.’”

Juliette
explained,
“The
gems are large enough to be valuable but small enough that they won’t have to
be cut into pieces to be untraceable.  The necklace itself is on the low end of
the royal collection so there’s a chance it might not even be missed for days.”

“It’s
a good piece,” François admitted.  “The main stone may give us some trouble but
the other 23 stones should be easy to sell.”

“Think
about it, uncle: this necklace is one of the least valuable of the royal jewels
and it’s
still
worth nearly
150,000 U. S. Dollars.
”

“Yes,
well, remember - the necklace itself may be worth that much, but the stones
alone will not be.  Still,” he considered, “we may get as much as forty
thousand for them; fifty thousand, if we can get them to Paris.”

“Fifty
thousand!” Juliet exclaimed.  “That’s a fortune for the orphanage.  We can feed
the kids for 6 months
and
still have
enough left over to buy a new roof!
”

Fran
çois regarded
his niece fondly.  “Ma chère, you have done so much for the orphanage. 
Everyone is so grateful.  But this,” he gestured towards the blueprint and the
smartphone, “this is a whole new world.  Do you understand?  This is the royal
castle.  This is not some silly old noblewoman in a drafty countryside mansion
with so many jewels that she doesn’t know what to do with them all.  This is
Palais d’Or.  You will be stealing from the
royal family
.
”

“Oh,
uncle, you’re living in the past.  Royalty doesn’t mean anything anymore. 
They’re just rich people.  They’re a bad reality television show, that’s all. 
‘Oooo, who will be the next king?’  Oh, who cares!”

“Ha!”
François laughed.  “Imagine this - coming from the girl who had such an intense
crush on Prince Guillermo.”

Juliette
waved her hands as if shooing away a fly. 
“Uncle, I was
thirteen
.  Every 13 year
old girl has a crush on Prince Guillermo.
”

Fran
çois’ smile
faded.  “Seriously, ma
ch
ère
, this theft is
on an entirely different level than what you are used to.  Are you sure you can
do this?
”

“I-”
Juliette hesitated.  “Uncle, I have to try.  The orphanage needs that money so
desperately.  When I think about it, my heart aches.”

Fran
çois frowned. 
“Whenever you get that look in your eye, I know I’m beaten.  All right, ma
chère, you have my blessing.  Just please, promise me, you’ll be extra
careful.”

Juliette
smiled, threw her arms around her uncle
’s neck, and planted a kiss on his
cheek.  “You won’t regret it.  You’ll see.  It will be as easy as pie.  I
promise.”

*  *  *

Three
days later, Juliette was back at Palais d
’Or preparing for the Royal Ball. 

The
day got off to a rocky start: the shipment of red carnations from Barcelona
wasn
’t
delivered until noon.  Consequently,  Juliette and her three employees were two
hours late arriving at the castle.  To complicate matters, her employees were
all teenage girls on their first trip to Palais d’Or; Juliette had to spend a
good chunk of her time reminding the wide-eyed, awestruck girls to focus on
their work.

As
their deadline approached and the girls became noticeably overwhelmed, nature —
or hormones, perhaps — took over and a couple of the handsome young royal
guardsmen lent a hand unloading the flowers from the delivery vans.  With their
help, Juliette and her crew finished decorating just as the first of the
classical musicians began to arrive.

7:15
PM.  Juliette stood at the back of the ballroom, surveying her work proudly. 
She had managed to represent all of the colors of the rainbow using a
combination of ivy, potted plants, and cut flowers.  The room itself was
magnificent: the polished hard wood floor, the decorative woodwork lining the
walls, the stage with the musicians dressed in formal attire, the spectacular
glass and gold chandeliers — it truly had the feel of a magical fairy tale.

Juliette
approached her three employees.  The pretty teens flirted easily with the royal
guardsmen. 
“Excuse
me, girls, I have to get ready for the dance.  Remember, you’ll have to leave
in 15 minutes.”

“Oh
pleeease,” one of the girls begged, “can’t we just stay inside and watch?”

Juliette
smiled in sympathy. 
“I’m
sorry, but you know the rules.  Please take the white van back to town and
leave the blue van for me.”

“OK,”
the girls reluctantly agreed.  Juliette thanked her employees and the royal
guardsmen, then headed to the coat room.  Her shoes and formal gown hung from a
portable rack along with several others.  After taking a quick look around, she
squatted down and undid the ribbon on a pink hatbox.  She reached inside and
discretely pulled out a small white cloth bag.  Hiding the bag in her left
hand, she then grabbed her shoes and gown from the rack and exited the
ballroom.

She
paused just outside the door and pretended to inspect her dress.  When she was
sure no one was watching, she shoved the white cloth bag behind a potted
rhododendron placed against the wall.  She stood, exhaled, and walked to the
women
’s
dressing room.

“The
flowers are just lovely.”

Juliette
turned to find the head caterer, Paulette, a happily plump woman in her late
40s, standing next to her. 
“You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” she
continued.

Juliette
smiled.  Both women were in their formal gowns, standing at the rear of the
ballroom.  It was just after 8 PM.  The room was filled with aristocratic
gentlemen and ladies, all dressed in tuxedos and long, flowing, brightly
colored ball gowns; diamond jewelry sparkled invitingly under the light of the
chandeliers. 

Even
though the prince had yet to arrive, the classical musicians began performing
at 8 o
’clock
sharp.  No one was dancing yet; everyone was smiling and chatting nervously. 
To the untrained eye, everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves — yet
Juliette detected an odd energy among the attendees; a sort of urgent
intensity.

“The
rhododendrons are a really nice touch,” Paulette noted.

“Thank
you,” Juliette said.  “I like to use a mixture of potted plants and cut flowers
for an event like this.  It makes the room so much more alive.” 

Not
to mention that potted plants are the perfect place to stash a stolen necklace!

At
that moment, the prince entered the room.  Dressed in a white uniform coat with
gold buttons and navy blue pants, the prince smiled and greeted a group of men
with hearty handshakes.  Even though the room was filled with rich handsome
men, Juliette felt that Prince Guillermo was in a class by himself.

“Look
at him smile like he hasn’t a care in the world,” Paulette mused.  “A state
funeral one week, a royal ball the next.  The lifestyles of the idle rich.”

“It
really is like another world, isn’t it?” Juliette said.

“Still,
that prince is awfully easy on the eyes.”

“Yes,
he is.”

“As
my grandmother would say: I wouldn’t kick him out bed for eating crackers.”

“Paulette!” 
Both women giggled as they watched the prince make his way over to a group of
young women.  He gave a slight bow and-

“Oh
my goodness, Paulette, did those girls just curtsy?”

Paulette
laughed. 
“Yes,
they did.”

“When
is the last time you curtsied?”

“Oh,
I don’t remember.  High school maybe?”

Gazing
at the scene, Juliette whispered,
“Another world…”

As
Juliette daydreamed, Paulette broke the spell,
“Well, I better make my way back
to the kitchen.  The first batch of mini-quiche came out burned; I want to make
sure that doesn’t happen again.  Take care, sweetie.”

Juliette
snapped out of her daze. 
“Bye.” 

Get
it together, girl.  You
’re here to work, not gawk.

She
checked her watch.  8:25.  The best time to make her move would probably be in
about an hour.  The party will be in full swing, the drinks will be flowing, no
one will notice the florist slip out the back of the room.

This
is going to be the most low-tech burglary ever
. 

She
visualized the scenario for the hundredth time in her mind: the white bag was
stashed behind the large rhododendron in the hall.  The emergency kit was
safely hidden in the old castle ruins outside. 

So,
I
’ll
slip out the back of the hall and walk directly to the gem room.  If anyone
asks, I’m lost and looking for the kitchen-

“Excuse
me.”

Juliette
instinctively shooed away the distraction as she continued her mental
checklist. 

The
emerald necklace is in the back corner-

“Excuse
me?”

“Yes,
what is it?” Juliette snapped.  She looked up to find-

Prince
Alfonso Guillermo de Valdivia y Beaumont!

“May
I have this dance?” Prince Guillermo’s piercing blue eyes and easy smile
rendered her momentarily speechless.

“Uh-
Uh- Uh- Of course!” Juliette finally found her voice. 

Oh
my God!  It
’s
the prince!  It’s really him!

The
small orchestra had just begun playing a fun, bouncy, familiar waltz.  Juliette
smiled, took the prince
’s
hand, and stepped out onto the dance floor.  He placed his right hand on the
small of her back and began gently but firmly guiding her.  She was relieved to
find that he was an accomplished dancer.

“You
dance quite well,” the prince said, smiling.

Juliette
returned the smile. 
“Thank
you.  My uncle taught me.”

“May
I have your name?”

“Juliette.” 

“Juliette,”
the prince repeated.  “That’s a nice name.”

As
she gazed into the prince
’s
blue eyes, her 13 year old inner fan girl squealed with delight:
I
’m doing it! 
I’m dancing with the prince!

The
prince gave her a spin which Juliette executed gracefully.  However, as she
turned, she noticed several jealous stares from other young ladies in the
room.  She couldn
’t
help but laugh.  Was it feminine pride? 

Ha
ha, girls, suck it!

“You
seem to be having fun,” the prince noticed.

“Of
course!” she laughed easily.  “It’s not every day the flower girl gets to dance
with the prince.”

“Please,
call me Guillermo,” he said.