by Casey, Ember
“Good to see you, too, Sophia,” he says. His expression doesn’t soften one bit, and his tone gives nothing away. After a couple of seconds, he turns his glare back onto me, and honestly, it takes a conscious effort to keep my face blank. This guy is way too intense. And right now, he looks like he’s trying to decide the best way to torture me.
“Andrew,” Sophia says calmly, as if her brother isn’t mentally imagining all the ways he’s going to cut my balls off, “this is Pax Donovan.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, extending my hand. I’m probably supposed to bow or something, but fuck me if I’m going to bow to this pompous asshole.
Andrew’s eyes fall to my hand, but he doesn’t make a move to shake it.
“This is the man over whom you’ve been embarrassing yourself?” he says to his sister. He gives me another once-over, and I cross my arms and do my best to look like I don’t give a fuck about what this asshole thinks.
“Give it a rest,” Sophia tells her brother. “You, of all people, should have some sympathy after what you and Victoria went through. You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with.”
Hearing her imply to her brother that she loves me is quite a rush, especially when Andrew’s eyes slightly bug out of his head.
“You’ve only known him a month,” he says. “Let’s be adults about this, Sophia. This is a fling, nothing more.”
“Actually…” Sophia glances at me, then releases my hand. “That’s what we’re here to talk about. We have some news.” She raises her hand, showing him her ring.
I’m pretty sure Andrew has a mini aneurysm. For a moment, he’s speechless. And then that look in his eyes becomes even more murderous. He reaches toward me, and I stumble back a step, pretty sure he’s about to strangle me.
“Easy, fella,” I say, raising my hands.
He seems to realize he’s about two seconds away from wringing my neck and recovers himself. He turns back to Sophia.
“What have you done?” he demands. “You should have discussed this with us first—”
“Like you discussed it when you decided to marry Victoria?” she says. “Come on, Andrew, stop being a hypocrite.”
“I’m not being a hypocrite. I’m thinking about your future.” His stare could melt ice. “When our father hears of this—”
“That’s my problem, not yours,” Sophia says. “And that’s why we’re here—to discuss it with the family. What’s done is done.”
“I can’t believe Nicholas allowed this,” Andrew says.
“He didn’t,” Sophia says. “He doesn’t even know about it yet.”
Andrew shakes his head. “You always were impulsive, Sophia, but this…”
“Was my choice, and I’ll deal with the consequences.” She raises her chin. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we should probably go talk to Mother and Father.”
“Mother has already ordered tea,” he says. “She’ll see you first. Maybe she can keep our father from murdering your new husband.” He practically spits the word husband as if it’s poison on his tongue.
“That will help, though I’m sure Pax can fend for himself.” She smiles up at me, but I’m pretty sure she’s just putting on a brave face for her brother. Judging by the way she was talking before we walked in here, she definitely expects her father to murder me.
“Of course,” I say casually. “I’m ready for anything.” I meet her brother’s eyes before adding, “Your family doesn’t scare me.”
Andrew steps closer until he’s right in my face, and the heated hatred in his eyes has cooled to ice. Somehow, that’s even more terrifying.
“You should be scared,” he says. “If you hurt my sister in any way—if you set a single foot out of line—then you’ll see exactly what this family can do. I’ll personally bring down the wrath of Montovia on your head.”
Is this dude really threatening me? With the wrath of Montovia? In spite of my efforts to be on my best behavior, I can’t help it—I laugh.
“Don’t worry, buddy.” I reach out and pat his shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.”
Sophia
It takes a lot for my oldest brother to lose his temper, but I can see his fury building just beneath the surface as Pax pats his shoulder.
Andrew grabs Pax’s wrist, and by the looks of it, squeezes it a bit too tightly. “Don’t ever touch me again—”
“Let’s go and meet my mother.” I step between the two men before Andrew can do too much damage. “She’ll be wanting to begin our tea service.”
Andrew glances down at me before releasing Pax. “And Father will be wanting to meet…him.” He spits out the word, his sneer rivaling that of Stephan’s. “Alone, of course.” His gaze slides to Pax. “As is our tradition.”
Pax lifts a brow and opens his mouth to speak, but I take a step closer to him to prevent him from saying something he’ll regret.
“Of course, we’re planning on honoring tradition, Andrew. We wouldn’t want it any other way.” I smile up at my brother. “Now if you’ll excuse us—”
Pax interrupts, sliding his arms around my waist as he speaks. “We’re going to tea.”
I’m sure Andrew can read the discomfort in my expression, but I try to hide it and place my hands over Pax’s at my waist. “Exactly.”
Andrew’s stare could burn a hole through me, but he says nothing. He merely gives me a small shake of his head before walking away.
When my brother doesn’t turn back to look at us, I twist myself from Pax’s grasp, turning to face him. “Please don’t try to upset my brother like that again. I—”
“You need to stand up to him, Sophia.” Pax’s grin falls, and his brow furrows a bit. “You need to let him know that you’re your own person—that you make your own decisions.”
“And I will. In my own way. And in my own time.” I shake my head. “Forgive me, but rubbing our…relationship in my family’s face will not make them see reason. Particularly not with my brother. And especially not with my father.” I’m not sure how to make him understand—my family is nothing like his. Even my mother is unlikely to welcome our marriage with open arms the way his mother did.
He frowns down at me for a moment before finally extending his hand. “Well, do you want to go to tea? I might as well be hydrated before your father castrates me.”
I can’t help but smile as I take his hand and lead him down the corridor toward my mother’s quarters. “It may not be that bad, you know. Perhaps it won’t be a complete castration. If you’re lucky, he’ll only take one—”
“Let’s just…” He shifts as he walks, almost as though he’s actually thinking he might lose something dear to him from his midsection. “Let’s just not talk about it.”
I chuckle. “It’s much more likely that he’ll take out some of the ancient torture devices, anyway. The rack, perhaps—”
“Very funny.” He glances down at me for a moment before his frown deepens. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Oh, yes.” I laugh. “We have a regular dungeon, complete with machines meant to cause all manner of suffering.”
“You know, it’s a little sad that I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
“Well…” I give him my sweetest smile. “If it was still the Middle Ages, it would be anything but a joke.”
His shoulders drop and he lets out a long breath, finally smiling himself. “It could make our honeymoon pretty interesting. Testing out all those—”
“Not a chance.” I shake my head. “But I’m glad I’ve learned something new about you.”
He grins down at me. “Then tell me something new about you. What was it like growing up here? Are all your staff as pompous and douchey as the one back there?”
“Stephan? No, he’s a special case. Most of our staff are like family. Stephan is more…” I shrug. “I’m not sure how to explain it. He’s still never forgiven me for putting spiders in his bed when I was a girl.”
“You put
spiders…?” His eyes widen a bit. “You. Spiders?”
I shrug. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“No, I mean…it probably was a good idea for that asshole. I’m more surprised that you…” He shakes his head. “You were a tomboy?”
“Ah, tomboy. That’s an American colloquialism, right? Meaning women are supposed to be afraid of spiders?”
“Well, that and other things. You seriously aren’t afraid of spiders?”
“What’s to be afraid of? They’re very small.”
“I…” He grins down at me. “You continue to surprise me. Did you climb trees, too?”
“Between my ballet, piano, and flute lessons, of course.” I look up at him. “Did you?”
“I…yeah. I was a boy.” He shakes his head again. “I suppose that’s what happens when you grow up with four brothers, right?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I never knew anything different. My father wanted me to be a proper princess, but my mother encouraged us to do whatever made us happy.”
“Hm. That’s pretty progressive for…” His voice trails off.
“For a tiny, backward European country?” I cluck my tongue. “Hopefully, you’ll continue to be surprised as you come to know this place.” Even saying the words gives me a little thrill—I want Pax to know Montovia the way I do. The way the world should know it. It might be small, and some of our traditions might seem antiquated, but it’s my home. I love it here, and I want Pax to come to love it as much as I do.
We finally make it to my mother’s quarters, and as I expected, she has a full tea service set up.
Pax tilts his head toward mine, whispering into my ear. “What am I supposed to do?”
My mother enters the room, and must somehow overhear him. “Why, you’ll come in and take tea.” She motions to the seats across the table from her.
We sit, and I exaggerate every movement I make, hoping Pax will take the hint to follow along. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that he wouldn’t have taken a proper tea before.
“So, I’ve heard you have some news, Sophia.” My mother pours tea into our cups, keeping her expression carefully blank.
“Word sure travels fast around here, huh?” Pax gives me a weak smile.
My mother lifts a brow in his direction, but says nothing about Pax speaking out of turn.
“Yes, Mother. I’d like you to meet Pax Donovan. My husband.”
Pax
So this is what a queen looks like, I think, studying the woman sitting across from me. I can see the resemblance between her and Sophia right away, but while Sophia looks like a normal—if beautiful—modern young woman, the queen looks like she’s stepped out of another time. She’s wearing a dress that would look like a costume in any other situation, but somehow, on her, it doesn’t seem out of place. She holds herself very straight, but not rigid, and though she definitely carries a sense of authority, there’s also kindness in her eyes.
Good. We could use some kindness right now.
If she’s surprised at learning that her youngest kid got secretly married, she doesn’t show it. She takes her daughter’s hand and looks down at the wedding band, and for the first time, I find myself self-conscious about it. While the rings we purchased from the chapel aren’t bad, I guess, I know they’re not exactly worthy of a princess’s hand—and it’s not like I couldn’t have afforded something better.
The queen looks over at me. “Nice to meet you, Pax. I hear you’re quite the musician.”
That simple statement catches me off guard, and I realize it’s because she’s the first one in this entire family to show any interest in me, not just my relationship with Sophia.
“Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that.” I doubt the queen listens to my music, so I’m not really sure how to elaborate.
The queen leans forward and begins pouring three cups of tea. “And you two met when Sophia accompanied Victoria to an interview?”
“Yeah. Victoria was interviewing me about my band’s new album.”
“Which I hear is doing quite well.” She passes a cup of tea to me with a smile.
“Better than we ever could have hoped.” I glance down at the tea. I’ve never been much of a tea drinker—coffee and booze for me, thanks—but I can’t exactly refuse a drink from a queen, especially one who’s now my mother-in-law.
“Sugar?” That’s Sophia, and she doesn’t even wait for my response before dropping a couple of sugar cubes into my cup. She gives me a wink before setting the little porcelain jar of sugar back on the table.
“Please, have a pastry, too,” the queen says, lifting a plate toward me. It’s stacked high with a variety of baked goods, and I suddenly remember I haven’t eaten in hours. My stomach growls as I reach forward and grab a flaky-looking roll with some sort of red jam oozing out of the side.
Sophia chooses a pastry next, then her mother takes one from the plate before setting it back down again. I take a bite of my roll.
Fuck, they sure know how to bake over here. This might be the best damn thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.
For a moment, there’s only the soft sound of my chewing and the gentle clink of a spoon against the side of the queen’s cup as she stirs the sugar into her tea.
I guess silence is better than an interrogation. Still, I know more is coming. I finish shoving the roll into my mouth and pick up my tea, trying to look occupied. Somehow, I’m more nervous in front of this woman than I was in front of either of Sophia’s brothers, even though the queen seems to be the kindest and most understanding of the bunch. Maybe it’s because she seems so kind and understanding that I suddenly feel a need to impress her.
I try the tea. It burns my tongue, but it’s better than I expected. When I lower my cup, I find the queen watching me.
“So,” she says, setting her own cup back on its saucer, “have you two given any thought to how you’re going to break the news to your father?”
“He hasn’t heard yet?” Sophia says hopefully.
“I haven’t told him, but I can’t vouch for Andrew.” She sighs. “I understand what young love is like, but you two certainly didn’t make this easy for yourselves. You know your father has become more open-minded these past couple of years, but that video the two of you made…”
Shit. I’d forgotten all about the sex tape. How the hell did I do that?
“Someone hacked Pax’s computer,” Sophia says. “We didn’t make that video. The police are looking into it.”
“I know,” the queen replies. “Your father has his own people looking into it, too. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s out there. And it certainly doesn’t help your case with your father.”
“He won’t be the least bit sympathetic that we did the right thing and got married?” I ask. Seems like something a stuffy, old-fashioned king would want when someone soils his daughter’s “honor.”
“In a secret, impromptu ceremony in Las Vegas?” the queen asks. “I think he may suspect an ulterior motive.”
I frown. “Like what?” I’m rich and famous in my own right—I don’t need to marry a princess for that.
The queen is watching me carefully. “You started a relationship with Sophia at a time when publicity would be advantageous for you. And coincidentally, within days, the entire world had access to the intimate details of that relationship. It looks suspicious, even if it was truly innocent. But there are many reasons a couple might rush to marry without first informing their families.” She looks back at Sophia. “You aren’t with child, are you?”
“No!” Sophia says quickly. “No, I’m not.”
The queen seems relieved to hear this. “I didn’t think so, but I wanted to be sure.” She picks up her cup again but doesn’t drink. “If you don’t mind my asking, then, why did the two of you decide to marry in secret? After only a month? I find it hard to believe that two young people in this day and age would marry simply to save face after a sexual scandal.”
I glance at
Sophia, looking for some sort of sign or cue. What are we supposed to say—the truth? That we were both so trashed that we hardly even remember the night at all?
Sophia takes the lead. “We got married because we love each other. And because we wanted to.”
It’s not much of an explanation, but the queen seems to accept that she’s not going to get a better one. She studies both of us over the edge of her cup, her gaze moving slowly back and forth between us.
“I’ll speak with the king,” she says finally. “And see if I can’t prepare him. But you two should be the ones to actually tell him the news. You must make your own choices in life, Sophia, but this was a very impulsive thing you did, even for you. Are the two of you certain this is what you really want?”
“Of course,” I say. How the hell else am I supposed to answer that question, sitting in a palace across from my royal mother-in-law?
Sophia nods, but I notice she doesn’t say anything out loud.
The queen lowers her cup and rises. “Very well. I’ll go speak with him. In the meantime, the two of you should decide exactly what you’re going to say. And make it good.”
And with a sweep of skirts, she leaves us to contemplate what we’ve done.
Sophia
Every step we take toward my father’s office fills me with a bit more dread. I’ve purposely chosen the long way, and by the time we’re only halfway there I have to stop to try and catch my breath. My chest is tight, and my heart is beating nearly out of my chest.
What have I done? I turn to look out the large windows flanking one side of the long corridor. This side of the palace overlooks the entire city in all its splendor.
I haven’t taken enough time to appreciate this. The trees are just beginning to turn green, many with spots of color where fruit will blossom in only a few months. The mountains surrounding us are a mix of colors—white where the snow is beginning to recede blended with the emerald colors of spring trying to push winter away.
