Taken by Storm (Storms of Blackwood Book 1)

by Elle Middaugh

  He folded his hands at his chin, studying me. “Have you given any thought to which prince you’d like to marry?”

  I coughed, spluttering a mini wave of pale violet milk and cream with little bits of seeds all over my portion of the table. The king leaned back in disgust, despite being at least six or seven feet away. Ben chuckled, Dan smirked, Cal hid his grin with his napkin, and Rob stared at me like the toad I was.

  I quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped my face up, checked to make sure my dress was unstained—which, miraculously, it was—and then started dabbing at the tablecloth.

  “Enough,” the king said, waving his hand and calling for a servant to clean up my mess. “Clearly you are not pleased with my sons. Perhaps you’re accustomed to men of higher caliber back in Blackleaf?”

  It was a jab at my peasant status, and it stung like a whip.

  I swallowed what was left of the bite I’d taken and cleared my throat. “Your Majesty, if I could be frank?”

  He nodded.

  “Prince Calvin is nice, but he’s practically engaged to another woman.”

  The king waved his hand again, this time to show me how inconsequential my argument had been. I continued, nonetheless.

  “Prince Daniel is charming, but I fear he’d never be content with just one woman.”

  The king raised a brow but nodded, clearly unable to protest that particular dispute.

  “Prince Benson is sweet, but I’m probably too dirty for him.” Heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized the double-entendre in my words. “I mean, literally, too dirty. As in, he hates germs, and I’m a freaking peasant girl from Blackleaf. I don’t think he’d want to touch me, let alone marry me.”

  The king lowered his folded hands to the table and nodded yet again. Something in his face had changed, though. He now looked determined rather than angry. “Go on.”

  I took a deep breath and avoided eye contact with anyone but him. “Prince Robert is...” There were no polite words to be said about that douche canoe. “Well, he’s a bit of a dick, to be honest.”

  The king nearly grinned. “But?”

  “Oh, there is no but, Your Majesty. That’s the entirety of the problem.”

  His gaze slid over onto Rob who seemed to be sweating bullets. “Perhaps your mother and I need to have a little chat with you about your rude behavior, Robert.”

  Rob shook his head once. “No, sir. That’s completely unnecessary.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it to me,” the king pressed with a sly smirk. “As for being a peasant, Miss Ravenel, that’ll all go away when you finally choose a prince. By the sounds of things, Calvin would be the best choice.”

  “No!” Cal shouted, immediately reining in his temper. “That would not be wise. We do not want a war with Timberlune, especially since they’re allied with Hydratica.”

  Dan scoffed. “I’m the Prince of the Sea, brother. Hydratica has nothing on us.”

  “Don’t act like you haven’t noticed them building their forces,” Cal murmured. “I’ve seen the reports. A hundred extra ships commissioned. For what purpose? Piracy? Seems like overkill.”

  “Enough,” the king said again. “I’ll be having a conversation with you and your mother tonight, as well, Calvin.”

  Cal opened his mouth to protest, but the king cut him off.

  “And if you’d like us to keep the discussion short, I suggest you shut your fucking mouth.”

  Which he did.

  I swallowed hard, feeling my heart pound desperately at my rib cage. The princes were clearly intimidated by him, which made me fear him one hundred times more. Or maybe it was their mothers that they feared? Maybe the women punished them severely for any disappointments and mistakes?

  Either way, I regretted my decision to tell King Zacharias the truth. I should have lied. Told him that things were going well and that I couldn’t wait to get to know the princes further. Curse my stupid mouth. If it didn’t get me killed, it would almost certainly sentence someone else to death.

  “Your Majesty,” I said with an overstated smile, backpedaling as quickly as possible, “I would rather not discount any of your four sons right away. First impressions are oftentimes faulty, and the princes each seem to have a great deal of potential. May I ask for more time to get to know them? Half a day is hardly enough.”

  He pursed his lips, tapping his fingertips together. “And how much time would you request?”

  I licked my lips and shook my head. How long would I need to date someone before I felt comfortable enough to marry them? “A year?”

  The king laughed right out loud, a cold, slightly terrifying thing. “Absolutely not. That’s completely out of the question. How about a week?”

  “A week?” My eyes practically bugged out of my head. “Your Majesty, that’s not nearly long enough. Perhaps... half a year?”

  “No. A month, and not a day longer. If you do not choose a prince within that amount of time, I will choose one for you. Do you understand?”

  I swallowed hard, feeling my mouth go numb, and nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Good.” He glanced around the table to where we all sat, still and quiet as ghosts. “Now, finish your breakfast, all of you. The dumplings are getting cold.”

  We ate in silence until the king was finished. He stood, tipped his head in our general direction, and left to tend to his extremely important daily duties.

  It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. My forehead and palms grew sweaty. My heart raced until I couldn’t take it any longer.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I didn’t realize I was going to get you guys in trouble.”

  Rob glared at me. “You didn’t realize telling our father how awful we are would be a bad idea? You’re even dumber than you look, Jewels.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m trying to apologize. Don’t make it any worse.”

  “You mean like you just did?” Rob bit back.

  Suddenly, Cal went into a fit of rage, slamming a fist into the table with enough force to topple a couple of vases. Flowers fanned out between our bowls as water soaked into the tablecloth. Then, just as quickly as he lost it, he reined it in and closed his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Alexis,” he said, taking a deep, calming breath. “That wasn’t directed at you, but I still shouldn’t have lost my temper in your presence. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I blinked a few times, trying to find my voice. I was totally scared—I mean, he was a mountain of a man, probably capable of crushing every bone in my body—but for some stupid reason, I didn’t want to let my fear show.

  “It’s fine. Outbursts and accidents... happen.”

  He chuckled quietly at my attempt to lighten the mood. Rob merely scoffed and stomped toward the nearest exit.

  “It’s not her fault,” Cal told him, making the tatted-up brother pause midretreat. “It’s his. You know that.”

  Rob shook his head, refusing to say a single word, then walked away.

  The silence intensified.

  “I don’t think you’re a germ, by the way,” Ben said quietly. “I mean, we all have millions of germs crawling on us at any given time, but you,”—he gestured to all of me—“are not a germ.” He glanced at Dan. “That came out wrong, didn’t it?”

  Dan chuckled. “Way wrong. Best to leave the sweet-talking to me, bro.”

  Ben sighed in frustration. “I’m not trying to sweet-talk her. Alexis, listen, you’re not... gross... okay? In fact, you clean up quite nicely. I actually wouldn’t mind touching you. Shit. That came out wrong too.”

  “No, no,” Dan mused with a wicked grin. “Keep going, by all means.”

  “What my brother is trying to say,” Cal cut in, patting Ben on the shoulder, “is that he’s the most eligible bachelor in the room, and that he’s interested.”

  Dan and I replied at the exact same time.

  “You aren’t interested?” I asked Cal, just as Dan said, “Why’s he the most eligible?”

  C
al answered his brother first. “He’s emotionally available, that’s why.”

  Dan curled his lip but didn’t disagree.

  Then Cal sighed and addressed my dumbass question. “It doesn’t matter if I’m interested in you or not, Alexis. I already told you, I’m all but betrothed to Princess Bria. I can’t risk war with Timberlune over a pretty girl.”

  For some ridiculous reason, I was thrilled that he’d just called me pretty. I mean, he’d literally just shut me down, but there I was, grinning like an idiot anyway.

  “What if Bria and Timberlune hadn’t been in the picture?” I asked, continuing my descent into pure, unrivaled stupidity. “Would you have been interested?”

  Cal tried to shoot me a flat look, but his smile totally gave him away.

  Oh yeah, he was interested. He was just too much of a gentle giant to cause any waves. I could work with that. I thought. Though, I wasn’t sure what that even meant. Cal was supposed to be off-limits, not a work in progress.

  I turned back to Ben, reassessing him with a gentler eye than before. He really was quite handsome. Tall, with an athletic build, and an amazing tan. He had dark brown hair, a deep voice hiding behind a kind smile, and warm brown eyes that reminded me of chocolate. If we could ever get past the whole germ thing, I could definitely see myself picking him.

  But...

  My gaze accidentally flicked over to Cal and Dan. They were all so attractive. Even Rob-the-snob, who’d already left the room. It was going to be damn near impossible to pick just one.

  Of course, I wasn’t supposed to want to choose one in the first place. At least, according to what my mother had said.

  This was going to be harder than I thought.

  Cal made his way toward one of the exits and paused in the doorway, a lock of blond hair dipping toward his blue eyes as he glanced over his shoulder. “Time to get the morning activities over with. I’ll meet you guys at the stables for lunch.”

  And just like that, my first day at Blackwood Palace had officially begun.

  Chapter 7

  Gemma met me outside the dining room and immediately handed me a drink.

  “What a good little handmaiden you are,” I teased before taking a sip. It was alcoholic. I practically moaned and started chugging the rest. I was going to need it if I planned on surviving the rest of the day.

  “Easy, Tiger,” Gemma said, stealing the drink back. “I doubt it’s good etiquette to show up to etiquette class drunk.”

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand—also bad etiquette, if I had to guess. "Fuck that class. You and I both know politeness and manners have never really been my strongest suits."

  "Yeah, well unfortunately for you, they need to be much stronger. Preferably before dinner tonight, so that you don't make an ass of yourself in front of the ambassador."

  I pursed my lips and scrunched my nose at her. "Since when did you become the perfect beacon of servanthood?"

  She laughed and shook her head. "I'm not. But it's not like it's hard for me. All I have to do is hand you shit and keep you on track. You’re the one who has to figure out how to do it."

  For the first time in a while, her words weren’t all that reassuring. If I was the one who had to figure it out, then we were totally screwed.

  Gem left me at the doorway of a classroom that looked an awful lot like a second dining room. I peered curiously inside, assessing the elegance all around. Striped walls alternating in bands of creamy white and powder blue, a huge chandelier littered with dangling crystals that caught every ray of light and turned it into rainbows, and more gorgeous floral arrangements that added beauty not only for the eye but also for the nose.

  At the far end of the table sat an old woman with a supertall, white-haired updo. Her face was peacefully expressionless and sagging at the cheeks.

  "Good morning, Miss Alexis," she said, barely moving at all, except for her lips.

  "Morning," I replied, stepping inside.

  "Wrong. We do not shorten our greetings; it cheapens them. Try again."

  I took a deep breath. This was going to be a long fucking day.

  "Good morning."

  "Wrong again. I addressed you by name; you did not address me at all. It's rude."

  My lips pursed sarcastically. "How could I possibly know your name when we haven't met?"

  She grinned... I think. There was a slight tug at the corners of her mouth.

  "The palace is a plethora of information. As a would-be royal, you need to use your resources. Ask around, tell your servants to snoop for you, do whatever it takes. It is your job to know everything always."

  I stared at her, half annoyed, half intrigued.

  Finally, she stood and demonstrated a perfect curtsy. I had no idea a woman that old and frail could dip so low without her knees giving out.

  "I am Madam Annette, and I'll be teaching you etiquette and comportment." She rose from her curtsy and nodded. "Now, let's start again, shall we? Good morning, Miss Alexis."

  "Good morning, Madam Annette."

  "Wrong. I curtsied to you. You did not curtsy back. It's rude."

  Fuck.

  "I don't know how to curtsy. At least not properly."

  She raised a brow. "It is your job to know how."

  "And it's your job to teach me," I snapped back.

  But she merely grinned. "Losing your temper is rude. No matter how frustrating your conversational partner is, you must remain cool, calm, and collected."

  I might've growled.

  Growling is rude, I mocked her in a stuffy tone in my head.

  “To execute a proper curtsy, you simply grab your skirts, place your right toe a few inches behind the left heel, and bend your knees outward while keeping your back straight.”

  Right. Simple. I rolled my eyes.

  “You try.”

  I pinched a small bit of my lacy yellow gown, concentrated on figuring out which foot went forward and which went back, then bent my knees out until they each cracked at the unfamiliar motion.

  Madam Annette strolled around behind me. “Straighter back. Lift your chin. Posture is a sign of regality and pride. Act like you’re worthy of such self-importance.”

  “I am worthy,” I muttered, sticking my nose in the air and stiffening my spine.

  “Good.” She rounded the front of me and nodded. “Let’s sit.”

  She walked back over to her chair and stood behind the back.

  "Always seat yourself in order of social importance. The king has ordered us to train you as a princess, so you will seat yourself second only to him. Otherwise, you'll be first."

  I walked over to a nearby chair and gripped the back. "What if the princes are around? Do I wait for them to sit first?"

  She shook her head. "No. As an acting princess, you are on equal ground with them. The five of you would sit at the same time."

  She gestured to the chair before me.

  Okay...

  I pulled it out and sat down.

  She sat too. "I'm thirsty. Are you?"

  I glanced at the water goblets before us and picked one up, waiting for her to correct me.

  "Wrong. Grip the stem, not the cup. It keeps the beverage cooler for longer."

  I did as told and grabbed the stem.

  "Pinkie out," she added. "A royal must appear delicate on the outside but be sharp and fierce on the inside."

  Holy shit, would the rules ever end?

  I popped my pinkie out and took a drink.

  "Wrong. Do not slurp or gulp. Raise the glass to your lips and tip. Let gravity do the work for you. You are royal. Even your drinks serve you."

  I sat my glass down and looked at her. "This is fucking stupid. You know that, right?"

  She shrugged. "Perhaps. But it's your job now. When you worked in the mines, was there a certain way you learned to hold your ax? A certain place to aim the blade? A certain way to remove the jewels? A certain way to count and collect them?"

  I frowned. "Of course. The kin
g would have our heads if we messed up his precious jewels. Not to mention old man Fallon would have had a hissy fit."

  She grinned. "It's the exact same thing, but this time you're a princess, not a miner. The king will still have your head if you mess up. There's a certain way you must aim to act and speak. And Madam Annette will have a hissy fit if you fail to do as told."

  I chuckled. For some reason, I was starting to like the old broad. I thought it was because of her willingness to get down on my level and explain things in a way I understood. I made a conscious decision to put more effort into her lessons from then on.

  “And also,” she continued eyeing me sternly, “ladies do not curse. It’s unbecoming.”

  Okay, she was making it extremely difficult for me to play along.

  "You have midmorning tea after this," she said, snapping her fingers. “So, let’s teach you how to properly attend a tea party.”

  A small group of servants rushed in. Two removed the current dishes, goblets, and silverware, and two brought in a stack of tiny saucers and cups with golden rims and handles. They scurried out, and a moment later, they rushed back in with a pot of tea, a vase of milk, and two bowls of cream and sugar.

  When Madam Annette and I were alone once more, she nodded to me.

  I took that to mean that, as an acting princess, I should fix my cup first. I reached for the sugar... and failed.

  "Wrong."

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to remain calm. "What did I do wrong this time?"

  "Tea is slightly more casual than meals. Here, courtesy takes precedence over social status. The host should serve the guest personally and always before herself."

  How the hell would I ever remember all of this?

  "So, am I the host or are you?" I asked with a sigh.

  "You are essentially a princess, and this palace is now your home. Of the two of us, you would be the host. At midmorning tea, however, you will be considered the guest, as the harem ladies have seniority over you. So, let’s practice that first."

  And practice we did.

  After hours of being drilled on everything involving tea, we moved on to wine, silverware, cutlery, and handling desserts. Just before I lost every ounce of patience I possessed, I was finally able to leave.