Neal stepped down from the steps of the private jet, and looked out at the land that would soon be his. The island wasn't very large, but he could see several houses in little communities in the distance. The jet had landed on the king's private airstrip, and lush green surrounded all sides.
As soon as Neal's foot touched the ground, two girls, probably around twenty years old, took a hold of both his arms and began to escort him to the car waiting for him. He smiled dazzlingly at them both and greeted them, introducing himself.
"My name's Neal Caffrey," he said, his smile still in place. "What are your names?"
The one with reddish-blond hair said, "Sarah Kellis," and Neal was startled at the similarity of her name with Sara Ellis, his almost-but-not-quite-girlfriend back in New York. He felt a pang of loss, but pushed it away – this was what he had always wanted.
But then the pretty brunette said, "Katie Morton," and Neal's smile dimmed a little at the thought of Kate Moreau. But she was gone – forever. There was nothing he could do about that now.
WCWCWC
Neal kept his face passive as the servant showed him to his new room, though inside, he was in awe. The room had a high ceiling, perhaps twenty feet high, shaped in a sort of dome. Everything was gold and cream-colored, and the four-poster bed had a gold silk comforter. He went to the bathroom and saw that it had the same theme. He couldn't tell if the gold-colored things were real gold or not, but he didn't care – this was amazing. The closet was astounding as well, probably about as big as his apartment back home. There were some nice suits in there, and even a fine collection of fedoras. Neal remembered several occasions when Peter had teased him about his hats, and he adjusted the one he was wearing, the one he'd had since getting out of prison and June had given him Byron's. Mozzie would get a kick out of this.
Mozzie. He had left him back in New York. Mozzie had been shocked that Neal was a prince in line for a crown, and at first thought that Neal was pulling a con, but finally he'd been convinced of its truth when the man had pulled up in front of June's house in a black stretch limo with Parasa's flags on the front and back. He had come to pick up Neal to go back to Parasa. He'd had to say a hurried good-bye before Neal got into the car and left, not knowing when he would see him again. He didn't know when he'd see anyone in New York again.
He'd been allowed to leave back to Parasa, and though reluctant to let him go, Peter didn't fight it, seeing that this was what Neal wanted. It hurt, but Peter had pushed it away. Neal had doubts at first, but now he was warming up to the idea as he saw the splendor before him. He had promised to contact Peter and Mozzie once he had settled in, and then at least once every week after that.
"Is this sufficient enough for you?" the servant broke into his thoughts, concerned at the flaccid expression on his future king's face.
Neal turned and gave him a smile. "Sorry," he said, "Thank you – this is perfect."