by Casey, Ember
“Good,” she murmurs against my shoulder. “Because I don’t know what to do.”
Neither do I, I think, running my fingers through her hair. But as long as I’m with Sophia, I don’t care about the rest.
And with that thought, the drugs overtake me again and I fall asleep.
* * *
When I wake, Sophia is no longer in my arms. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, and when I do, I groan. I can’t wait to get out of this fucking hospital and get on with my life.
But what kind of life will that be? Will Sophia and I end up in Montovia? Or somewhere else? What happens with Twisted Throne? I’m not even sure if there still is a band after Charlie’s confession—I’m ready to forgive the guy, but I haven’t seen him since the day I woke up, so who knows what’s going on there? Maybe the band is over and they’re holding off on telling me until I get better. Maybe Sophia has finally come to her senses and left me, too.
I groan again, rubbing my face.
It’s then I hear someone clear his throat.
I drop my hands and look toward the door. Sophia’s brother William is standing there, looking at me.
Great, just what I need. Another royal visit.
“Hey there, Willy ol’ boy,” I say. “Weren’t you on your way back to Montovia? Back to make our lives more complicated?”
William seems to have a better sense of humor than some of his brothers. He chuckles. “That’s not my intention, I promise. My father and Andrew are on a plane as we speak, but I decided to stay for another day or two.”
“If you’re looking for Sophia, I have no idea where she is. I just woke up.”
“I know. I was waiting for you. I sent my sister off to get some food.” He walks over to the bed and gestures to the chair beside it. “May I?”
“Be my guest.”
He sits, still smiling. “I thought you and I could have a chat. Man to man.”
Oh, boy. This is about to get even more fun.
“Sure,” I say. “Why not? Everyone and their brother seems to realize I’m trapped in this bed. I’ve sat through more uncomfortable conversations in the last few days than I have in my whole life.”
“I doubt that,” William says, obviously amused. “But I’ll take your word for it. I imagine it isn’t easy dealing with my family. We’re a protective bunch, especially when it comes to Sophia.”
“I get that. I have sisters of my own.”
“I know. And I also believe you’re a good guy.” His smile deepens. “And that you’re good for Sophia, even if not everyone can see it.”
I eye him suspiciously. I’m not sure I trust his kindness.
“Look,” William goes on. “We just want Sophia to come home. My father…can be unreasonable at times. But he has a good heart. He’ll come around, once he trusts you. But it’s hard for him to do that when he hardly knows you.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”
His smile never falters. “You charm him, of course.”
“Thanks for the advice, but it’s kind of hard to charm someone from across an ocean. And we didn’t exactly exchange cell numbers before he left.”
“That’s why you should come to Montovia,” he says. “When you’re discharged, of course. You and Sophia should both come.”
I shake my head. “Sophia isn’t down with this whole wedding bargain—”
“This isn’t about the wedding. You don’t have to make a decision about that just yet. Just come to Montovia, put on your best behavior, and show our father that you can behave like a prince when you want to.”
I laugh. “Easier said than done, Willy boy.”
“But worth it, right?” His gaze is suddenly penetrating. “Unless I’ve misjudged your feelings for my sister.”
I straighten as much as I can in this awkward bed. “You haven’t. But I’m not the one you have to convince.”
“I’ll be talking more with Sophia about this, too,” he says, rising. “But I suspect she’ll be more enthusiastic about the idea if she knows you’re on board. And that you’re committed to behaving yourself.” He walks over to the door. “I know you’ll do the right thing, Pax.”
And before I can respond, he’s gone.
Sophia
I stare out the window as I pretend to eat my food. It’s late spring—my favorite time of year. There isn’t much to see of spring here in the desert, but I can imagine the vivid hues of the flowers blooming in the palace gardens, the fragrance hanging in the air.
I’m not sure I can agree to never seeing my home again.
I’m still staring out the window, mindlessly twirling my fork in the pile of food in front of me when someone sits down across the table.
I don’t have to look over at him to know it’s my brother. “What are you doing here, William?”
“I thought I’d join my sister for a late lunch.” He taps on the table. “What is that?”
“Beef Stroganoff.” I turn to look at him. “I thought you were going back to your hotel.”
“And I will.” His brow furrows. “Forgive me, Sister, but that meal doesn’t appear to have ever been anywhere near an actual cow.”
“It’s delicious,” I lie. “Very flavorful.”
William grabs a piece of whatever it is passing for meat and lifts it to his mouth. He winces and grabs my glass of water, taking a long drink. He almost chokes out his words. “I suppose that is flavorful, if the flavor you enjoy is that of salt.” He shakes his head. “Allow me to bring you a real dinner, Sophia. You’ve been subsisting on this vile excuse for food for long enough. I’m rather surprised Nicholas didn’t—”
“He did. You all did.” I flatten my hands on the table. “I don’t need real food, whatever that is. I’m doing quite well on my own. I wish you all would accept that.”
“I…” He shakes his head. “I do accept that, Sister. I’m not trying to offend you. I know all too well what you’re going through.”
My gaze narrows a bit, but I know he’s right. He had to fight for his right to marry his love—again—despite our father’s wishes.
“How is Justine?” I twirl the food around my fork again.
He stares down at my plate, too. “She’s doing well. Carrying on with her duties as if she isn’t carrying our children in her belly.” He grins. “But you should stop trying to change the subject.”
I frown at my food.
“Father is worried about you. We all are. That mad woman is still out there somewhere.”
“I know.” I look across the table at him. It isn’t as though I haven’t had the niggling worry in the back of my mind all this time that this Abby person might come back.
“It wouldn’t be that bad, you know. Coming back to Montovia. You’d be much safer there than here.”
“Perhaps. But wouldn’t having a large wedding put even more of a target upon me? Wouldn’t it be like rubbing it in her face?”
“Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe if she sees that you’re now truly married in front of the world…” He sighs. “I don’t know what the answer is. I just know I’d feel much better if you were at home.”
“That really isn’t a reason to go home, though, is it?” I eye him suspiciously again. “And I’m not sure what I should do.”
“I think the answer is quite simple—”
“I already know what you think, Brother. You think I should abide by Father’s rules. But none of you did, not even Andrew. And Father didn’t strip any of your spouses of titles. He didn’t threaten any of you with exile.”
“Oh, I think he threatened all of us with exile.” His smile only falls a little. “And if a title is really that important to your husband, I happen to know a queen pretty well. I could probably convince her to at least bestow a knighthood or something.”
“That…” I can’t help but smile. “That is a fine offer, Brother. And I do appreciate it.”
“Good.” He reaches out to pat my hand. “I know it doesn’t solve your
dilemma, but in my view, you really don’t have one.”
I look up at him. “My choice is to follow Father’s rules or to never see Montovia again.”
“Exactly. Can you really say you never want to go home again?”
“No. But why should I have to bend? Why should I have to make this decision at all?”
He shrugs. “Call it part of growing up, Sophia. Sometimes you have to make a decision that has no good outcome. But truly, wouldn’t you rather have the outcome of being with your husband and being in your home than never being able to come home again?”
“I don’t know. And really, I think I could live with the first two of Father’s proposals. Pax doesn’t seem to care about being a prince. Though I’m sure he’d love to be a knight.”
William winks at me, grinning. “You know, we could always give him lessons on how to be a prince. Help him learn our ways—at least become a bit more civilized.”
“He would never agree to that, William, and you know it.” I shake my head, but I can’t help but smile at the though. It might be quite fun to help Pax learn our ways—and it would certainly prove to my father that he’s trying.
“I say we give the chap a chance. He seemed open to the idea a little while ago.”
“Really?” I tilt my head.
He shrugs. “He didn’t come out and give a definitive ‘no’ at any rate.” He grins. “And I’m all for helping with this. I’m certain Leopold would be, too.” His smile widens. “Maybe even Nicholas.”
I shake my head. “It might work. But it’s really the last demand of Father’s. How can I agree to not bring a child into my marriage? How could Father propose something like that?”
He squeezes my hand. “Sophia, do you really think that if you found out you were with child, anything would happen? Do you honestly believe that Mother would allow Father to banish you if you were carrying her grandchild?”
It’s like a weight lifts from my chest, and I can’t help but smile again. “You are a terrible influence, Brother.”
He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, still grinning. “No one ever said I wasn’t.” He glances over his shoulder. “It was a little irresponsible of our family to leave me here with you, wasn’t it?”
I nod as I look down again at my food. I blink back the tears that fill my eyes—maybe it all will work out. I may have to give in to my father’s demands—and maybe Pax won’t get to have the royal title he deserves—but I can have everything else I want. I can have my husband and my family, dysfunctional as they may be. I can have the love of my life and my country. And perhaps I can even win on the last point of contention, because William is right. My mother would never allow my father to do something so cruel as to banish me if I was actually pregnant. Perhaps it’s wrong, but I can’t help but think that might be the best way of all to defy him.
Well, that and helping Pax to become the Prince he deserves to be.
I look up at my brother. “Tell Father I’m in. As soon as Pax is well, we’re going to Montovia.”
Royal Disaster 6
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, locations or incidents are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Ember Casey and Renna Peak
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First Edition: March, 2018
Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team
* * *
Sign up for the Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team
Be the first to know when new books are available
Character Interviews
Behind the Scenes information and excerpts
Deleted scenes
Free books only for our Reader Team!
Sign up now!
* * *
Pax
Ah, Montovia. Land of beautiful mountains and picturesque green valleys. A country right out of a storybook—or one of those amazing, cheesy theme park rides. A place full of royals who hate me.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. Sophia loves me, of course. And at least two of her brothers—Leo and William—seem to mostly be on my side. I might even have the queen’s approval, but that’s a touchy area, considering the last time I saw her I gave her husband a heart attack.
So yeah, a little out of my element here.
It’s been over two months since the last time I set foot in this country. The weather’s warmer now, but there’s still a crisp wind. Of course, the locals don’t seem to notice the chill. One glance at the people outside the airport and you’d think it was a hundred degrees here—everyone’s in short sleeves, and I even spot a couple of people fanning themselves. Meanwhile I’m trying to figure out how much trouble it will be to dig through my bag for my jacket.
Sophia grabs my arm.
“Over there,” she says, nodding toward a dark car along the curb. The driver is already heading our way, and when he reaches us, he grabs our bags before I can even protest.
But I should know the routine by now. I thought I was “royalty” back in the U.S., but even rock stars carry their own luggage most of the time. I’m playing on a different field now.
Or am I? If Sophia accepts her father’s deal—which she’s halfway done already, just by coming here—then I’m not real royalty at all. I get no titles, no political standing. I think I’m okay with that, but I know Sophia isn’t.
Does she really want me yielding any sort of political power? I chuckle to myself. I can see the headlines now—‘American Rock God Singlehandedly Destroys Centuries-old Montovian Monarchy.’
Yeah, they really don’t want to be giving me any power. I consider myself a decent guy, but even I know that my impulse control is…low.
Once we’re safely in the car, the chauffeur begins the drive through the city. The last time I was here, I was honestly too nervous about meeting Sophia’s parents to pay much attention to my surroundings. This time, I peer out the windows, studying the quaint and colorful buildings. It’s really hard to believe that people live like this in real life. The buildings have trim of every color—red, purple, bright blue, green—and there are decorative designs cut around many of the doorways and window shutters. We pass through several large squares with fountains in the middle, down winding roads with full gardens in the median, and past elaborate gazebos overgrown with flowering vines.
We also pass a number of cozy-looking taverns, which I’m definitely going to check out later. And several restaurants that send amazing smells through the open window. It would take months to explore all the cool little places in this city—which is good, because I have no idea how long we’re going to be here.
I reach over and take Sophia’s hand. She’s lost in thought, staring out the window on the other side but obviously not actually seeing anything. When I squeeze her fingers, she looks over at me with a faint smile.
“Did you miss it?” I ask her, gesturing to the city out the window.
“I never think I will, but I always do.”
I’m not surprised. And her answer only confirms what I knew since the first time her father laid his “compromise” at her feet—that Sophia would never be happy if she had to give all of this up.
Which is why I have to make sure she and her father come to an agreement, I think. I’d force myself to walk away from her before I ever let her walk away from her family.
I look out the window again, thinking of what her brother William said to me back at the hospital. He was the one who convinced Sophia to come back here—I’d like to think I helped a little, but I know better—after all, he had a private chat with me, too. He made it clear that it’s up to me to convince the king that I’m worthy of his daughter. It’s up to me to win him over.
It still makes me laugh. Has William even met me? Obviously, if he’d been around to see me with Nicholas, or with Andrew, he’d know this is an uphill battle. I can’t help it—when people start getting all snooty and acting like they’re better than me, I can’t control myself. I dish it right back at them. Just because these people were born into a royal family doesn’t mean they have the right to be assholes. And I’m not obligated to let them order me around. Honestly, the whole lot of ‘em would be much more likable—and probably a lot damn happier—if they just lightened the fuck up a little.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I have to laugh at myself. I’ve been in this country for less than an hour and I’m already getting worked up. I can only imagine what it’ll be like living with these people over the next days or weeks or months—always having to bite my tongue, to let myself be insulted and then bow and scrape and pretend like it’s such an honor just to be in their presence. Ah, fuck me, this is going to be rough.
But it’s going to be worth it, I think, looking at Sophia again. Just remember that you’re doing this for her.
And I, for one, am still perfectly willing to accept her father’s offer as is—let’s be real, I’m never going to fit in with her family. Seriously, God help me if I ever start acting like any of her brothers. All that hoity-toity bullshit would drive me fucking insane. Yeah, I get that they’re rich and powerful and blah, blah, blah…but I’m rich, too, and I guarantee I have a lot more fun than they do.
The car is climbing up the hill to the palace, now. I’ll admit—it’s still a pretty damn impressive place to live, but who the fuck needs that much house? Half the time my apartment feels too big for me. What does anyone need three thousand rooms for?
