Royal Disaster: The Complete Series

by Casey, Ember

  After the show, when we’re all gathered backstage, I know it’s time to come clean. For once, it’s just the four of us and Mick—almost like they knew I had some personal announcement to make. I guess after years with these guys, we can read each other pretty damn well.

  “Hey, guys,” I say, running my thumb along the neck of my beer. “I’m going to have to leave for a couple of days. But I’ll be back in time for our show in Phoenix, I promise.”

  None of them reacts with surprise, which only confirms what I already suspected—they knew something was coming.

  “What’s going on?” Charlie asks, looking between Mick and me.

  “Nothing bad,” Mick says. “But Pax has some happy news.”

  “I…uh, got married,” I confess. “Last night. To Sophia.”

  Rider spews out his beer. “You what?”

  Charlie is still looking between Mick and me with confusion. “Is this some sort of joke?”

  “No, no joke,” I tell them. “We were drinking and ended up in a wedding chapel.”

  “And got married?” Charlie says, still incredulous.

  Rider wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. “He’s only said it four fucking times in the last minute.”

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Charlie demands of me.

  “I wasn’t. I was blackout drunk.” I put my beer down on the table. “But what’s done is done. And now I’m trying to deal with this in the best way possible.”

  “The tabloids have the story,” Mick adds. “It will go live sometime in the next few days.”

  “And in the meantime I’d like to tell my mom before she has to hear the news from a magazine,” I say. “And Sophia’s parents. We’re—”

  Rider’s laughter cuts me off.

  “Oh fuck,” he says. “I just realized what this means. You’re a fucking prince now, aren’t you? This is fucking hilarious.”

  I frown. “It’s not really funny—”

  “No, this is the best shit I’ve heard in a long time,” Rider says, still laughing. “Our little Pax is a fucking prince. Are they going to make you wear a crown and a stuffy suit now?”

  “The crown might actually work,” Charlie says, obviously starting to find this amusing. “We’re Twisted Throne, after all. It goes with our shtick.”

  “We can roll him out onstage on an actual throne,” Jameson suggests, which only gets Charlie and Rider laughing harder.

  “Wait, wait,” Rider says when he manages to catch his breath. “What about a bachelor party?”

  “Yeah!” Charlie says. “You never had a bachelor party!” He stands, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “Let’s take care of that right now. I can get us into the Lucky Leather Lounge—”

  “Sorry, guys, but that’s not going to happen tonight,” I tell them. “Sophia and I have to leave now if we’re going to hit both our parents before Phoenix.”

  The guys groan in disappointment, but fortunately, Mick is on my side.

  “We’ll work out the other details when we’re in Phoenix,” he says. “In the meantime, this is going to be great publicity for us. I’ll bet our album sales will double when the news breaks—we’ll almost certainly see a spike on the older albums, too. And we’re almost guaranteed that European tour.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Rider says, grinning. He raises his drink. “To Pax. And his stupid but lucrative marriage.”

  “To Pax,” the others echo, grinning.

  Internally I groan, but I can’t help it—I love these guys, and honestly, they’re taking this better than I thought they might. Smiling, I raise my own beer, clinking the bottle against theirs.

  * * *

  The drive to my mom’s might be the longest four and a half hours of my life. Even though I’m charged on energy drinks, I’m still exhausted from the show—not to mention everything else that’s happened in the last several days. Sophia tries to stay awake with me, but she ends up falling asleep, and I don’t have the heart to wake her. I grip the steering wheel and sing along to the music on the radio, trying to stay alert. When one of Twisted Throne’s songs comes on, I turn it up and sing louder. Sophia is so exhausted that she doesn’t even stir, even when her phone rings a handful of times. I suspect Nicholas has finally figured out we’ve given him the slip.

  By the time we roll into my mom’s driveway, the sun is up over the horizon. It’s a little after seven, but I know Ma will be up. She’s out of bed by five most mornings.

  After parking, I gently shake Sophia awake.

  “We’re here,” I tell her softly.

  Groggily, she sits up. Her hair is slightly messy from leaning against the window, and she has to blink a few times before her eyes focus.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how bad do I look?” she asks, flipping down the mirror.

  “You look beautiful,” I tell her.

  She shoots a smile at me, but she still spends a few minutes fiddling with her hair. Which is odd, considering that in all the time I’ve known Sophia I’ve never seen her be fussy about her appearance before.

  “You look great,” I assure her. “What’s going on? You’ve met Ma before.”

  “But last time I was just your girlfriend. Or whatever we were. Now I’m your…wife.” The word is hesitant, like she’s still not sure how to say it.

  I take her hand in mine. “Don’t freak out on me now. This is supposed to be the easy one. When we tell your parents—”

  “I know, I know.” She returns my smile. “It’s just weird, isn’t it?”

  I don’t have time to answer her, because at that moment the front door of my mom’s house opens and Ma appears, frowning at the car. When she spots me through the windshield, though, her expression quickly shifts into one of joy. She hurries down the walkway toward us.

  “Well, here goes nothing,” I say to Sophia, releasing her hand. I climb out of the car. “Hey, Ma.”

  “Patrick,” she says joyfully, coming around the car and hugging me. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on tour?”

  “I was. Still am, technically. But I wanted to make a quick visit before we head to Phoenix.” I glance over at Sophia, who’s climbed out of the car. “We have something to tell you.”

  “You’re married,” she says immediately. Her eyes go to Sophia. “Or pregnant. Or both. The Lord help me, Patrick, if she’s pregnant and you haven’t married her…”

  “No one’s pregnant,” I say, a little shocked by how quickly she jumped to that answer. “But we are married. How did you know?”

  “A mother can sense these things,” she says. “And honestly, Patrick, there are only a handful of reasons you’d leave your tour to come see me. And I could tell from your faces it wasn’t bad news.” She extends her arm, beckoning to Sophia. “Come here, my dear. Give me a hug.”

  Sophia obeys, and Ma pulls us close, one arm around each of us.

  “I told Cat that Sophia would be the one,” she says tearfully. “I just never guessed it would happen so soon.” She loosens her grip slightly, releasing us just enough that she can see our faces. “And I’ll admit I was hoping to be involved in the wedding. Why would you do this without telling me?”

  “It wasn’t planned, Ma,” I say, feeling sheepish. “It just…happened.”

  She gives me a look that tells me she isn’t buying my bullshit. But she’s taking it much better than I expected, all things considered.

  “I can tell there’s a story here,” she says. “Why don’t the two of you come inside and tell me all about it? I’ve got some coffee on.”

  I nod, and taking Sophia’s hand in mine, follow her into the house.

  One down, one to go.

  Sophia

  I’m glad we visited Pax’s mother first. I needed a reminder that not everyone has a family as crazy as mine. But I know we have to face them sooner rather than later, especially since the news of our wedding is about to break. Nicholas and Victoria are making their way back to Montovia themselves—I�
�m not sure how she convinced my brother to give Pax and me some time alone, but I’m definitely thankful.

  As we near Montovia, I’m struck with a sort of terror I’ve never known—and it has nothing to do with being on an airplane. I dig my fingers into the cushioned arms of the chair so hard my knuckles are turning white. I can only stare out the window—my stomach is knotted into a ball, and I’m sure if I turn to look at Pax, I’ll vomit all over him.

  He seems to sense my fear, and he slides his arm around my waist. He nuzzles against my neck before he speaks. “What is it?”

  I can only shake my head. Nicholas has only shown him a fraction of what my family can be like. Why did I think it was a good idea to bring him home to meet them?

  He lifts the arm of the chair separating us, sliding closer to me before he kisses my neck. “Things went so well with my mom. They couldn’t have gone any better—”

  “I know.” I can barely choke out a whisper. “Your mother is…lovely.”

  “Your mother will be lovely, too.” His fingers dance down my arm. “And she’ll love me. All mothers love me—”

  “It isn’t my mother you need to be worried about.” I push his arm away to be able to turn to face him. “It definitely isn’t my mother.”

  He pulls my hand into his, lifting it to his lips. “I already told you, I’ll charm them all. No worries.” He grins again. “You’ll see.”

  I can’t even imagine what will happen when Pax meets with my father. There have only been a few times when I’ve been the target of my father’s ire, but they aren’t times I’ll ever forget. And none of those times have been because of a man.

  When my brother Leopold chose Elle, it was certainly a scandal, but it wasn’t as though Leo hadn’t been the subject of many, many scandals over the years. And when Andrew chose Victoria… Well, when the crown prince wants to marry a commoner—and a barren one, at that—it causes a considerable amount of tension in the family.

  But I’ve always been a proper princess—at least in the eyes of my family. Certainly, I’ve been a bit of a troublemaker, but it’s all been in good fun. The sort of trouble I’ve made hasn’t been the type to warrant international gossip. I’ve mostly only pulled pranks on my brothers—and occasionally on the staff of the palace—but nothing on the level of making a sex tape or getting married to a rock star while completely inebriated.

  My family is going to kill me.

  “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Pax is still grinning down at me. “I’ll be thrown into the dungeons? Put on the rack? Hung from the ceiling?” He chuckles. “Seriously, it can’t be any worse than what Ol’ Nicky has already put us through—”

  “My father will call you into his office alone. Without me. Without my having met with him first to…diffuse the situation.” I gulp.

  “Ah.” He squeezes my hand. “And I suppose he keeps the torture devices in his office?”

  “He won’t need any torture devices if he’s angry enough.” I sigh. “Pax, I don’t think you understand—”

  “That your family is going to hate me?” His smile widens, and he shrugs again. “Or that they already do?”

  “My father can be…formidable. Quite…intimidating.”

  “Well, he is a king, right?” His smile falls as he seems to realize the gravity of his words. “I suppose you’d have to be formidable if you were a king.”

  “I think…I think if you think Nick has been bad, you may be in for a rude awakening. That’s all. I just…I want you to be prepared. He’ll ask you…” I shake my head. “Actually, I have no idea what he’ll ask you. He’ll probably want to know your intentions. And…and…”

  Pax lifts my hand to his lips again, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “My intentions are honorable. Sort of.” He winks at me. “But I am expecting we can have at least a little bit of a honeymoon tonight before we head back to the tour.”

  I nod before I turn to look out the window again. The snow-capped mountains in the distance are all too familiar. The receding ice covering them means spring is here—my favorite time of year in Montovia. There’s nothing more beautiful than seeing the gardens of the palace come alive again. Perhaps some of the tulips will have already pushed through the soil.

  My heart pounds in my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve missed my home or because I’m terrified of what will happen when our plane lands. I’ll likely be tormented for my choice of transportation, too—Victoria and Nicholas took a private plane back to Montovia ahead of us, but I knew that flying with them wouldn’t give Pax and me the space to have any sort of meaningful conversation. Or anything else for that matter. So we booked the entire first class cabin of the only commercial flight to Montovia to arrive this morning, even though it was an entire day of travel. It isn’t as comfortable as flying on a private jet would have been, but then I wouldn’t have had the comfort of Pax’s arms around me if we were anywhere near my brother.

  The pilot’s voice comes over the loudspeaker, announcing our descent into Montovia, and we land only a few minutes later. As I expected, there is a driver holding a sign for us at the gate, and we’re rushed to the waiting car.

  Pax stares out the window as we make our way through the city. As we turn to go up to the palace, he turns to me. “I had no idea your country was this beautiful.”

  I smile at him before I turn to look out the window myself. I suppose I don’t take the time to appreciate this place enough myself.

  “And this is where you live?” He slides across the back seat next to me, pulling me close to him as he motions toward the window. “My God, that is some house.”

  It is a grand palace. I’m struck again with the notion that I don’t take enough time to appreciate the grandeur of the place I live. I probably don’t take enough time to appreciate much in my life—and I am lucky. Not only to live in such a magnificent country, but to have the loving family I do.

  I turn to stare up at Pax. My stomach twists and my heart speeds up a bit when his gaze meets mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. Maybe this is what love feels like. And if I love Pax, then my family will have no choice but to love him, too.

  We pull up to the entryway, and the driver holds the door open for us. Pax is a perfect gentleman, taking my hand and helping me out of the car.

  This is going to be fine. It’s all going to work out. Part of me knows I’m lying to myself, but I have to believe that if I care about the man beside me, my family will, too.

  We walk up the steps, and the door opens as we approach.

  Stephan, my father’s assistant, stands in the doorway, blocking our entrance.

  “Kindly step aside, Stephan.”

  The stout man glares at me for a short moment before turning his gaze to sneer at Pax. “The king has requested you answer a question before being allowed entry into the palace.”

  “This is ridiculous, Stephan. Step aside—”

  He interrupts. “One question.” He lifts his nose turning back to me. “And the princess shall not assist you, or you’ll be denied entry.”

  I can’t help but roll my eyes. “You can’t be serious—”

  “Your question is, what is the date of Montovia’s independence?”

  “Stephan.” I shake my head. “That’s hardly a fair question…” I turn to Pax. “You don’t have to—”

  “It’s okay.” He grins at me, giving me a wink. “I know this one. Thank God you dropped your phone that day we met.” He turns back to Stephan. “I don’t know what the point of your trivia question is, but the answer is June first.” He turns to wink at me again before his gaze slides back to Stephan. “Now, as the princess asked, kindly step aside.”

  Pax

  The look on the stuffy man’s face is priceless. He recovers quickly, though, his shock once again disappearing behind the sort of sneer I thought was reserved for comic book villains.

  I passed the first test, at least, I think, keeping my grin. I don’t have a lot of experience wit
h royalty or royal servants or whatever—outside of the last month, of course—but I’ve had a lot of experience with people who think they’re more important than they are. And I know the best thing to do is hold my ground and show that I’m not easily intimidated.

  For a minute, though, I think the stocky, buttoned-up servant will still refuse to let us pass. But after a long moment, he gives a sniff and steps aside, letting Sophia and me pass.

  I try not to gawk at the room we enter. It’s some kind of grand foyer, with marble floors and a ceiling at least three stories high. There’s some sort of fresco on the ceiling, but I only give it a glance before dropping my eyes. If I look too awed, they’ll see that as a sign of weakness. Besides, if this goes well there will be plenty of time to look around later.

  And that’s when I notice the tall fellow striding toward us across the foyer. He looks a lot like Nicholas but with darker hair—and, even though I have no idea how this is possible, I swear he looks even more pompous and self-important than Ol’ Nicky, too. Even if I hadn’t done some internet stalking and checked out pictures of Sophia’s family, I’d still have easily been able to guess this is her oldest brother, Andrew. The heir to the throne. He has that ‘don’t fuck with me’ look that’s common among people who are used to having everyone follow their orders all the time.

  Unfortunately for him, following orders gives me a rash. If he thinks he can intimidate me with that glare, he’s in for a rude awakening.

  Sophia’s hand is still in mine, and her fingers twitch slightly.

  “Hey, Andrew,” she says sweetly. “It’s good to see you.”

  I recognize that tone—it’s the same one my little sisters use on me when they know they’re in trouble. And honestly, it usually works. I swear, it’s a superpower all little sisters seem to possess.

  Until now. In this case, it falls flat. Prince Andrew glances at his sister.