A Cinderella Twist: A Contemporary Royal Romance

by K. S. Thomas

  “There is a Rose library,” Lachlan adds casually. “But it’s named for a person, not a color.”

  “Why is this relevant?” Soren asks.

  “Because I would have made a big thing about it later on if he hadn’t clarified,” I explain, trying not to show how impressed I am by how well he knows me already.

  Soren blinks several times, gesturing his disbelief and frustration, before going on to answer my other questions. “As for the various titles I use to refer to her majesty, I find it makes her less terrifying if I give her ridiculous but frighteningly accurate nicknames.”

  “Less terrifying for you?” I interrupt yet again.

  “For everyone,” he snips, apparently displeased with my suggesting he’s the only one who’s scared of her, and that I might find that amusing. “Lastly, yes, Bea did indeed have the answer.”

  This part of our chat does seem to draw Lachlan’s interest again. “Who is it?”

  “Katia.”

  Both men make a sour looking face. There aren’t too many ways to misinterpret that.

  “Why don’t we like Katia?” I ask, secretly wondering if we will ever reach the end of this hall wandering journey. We take another turn and travel a mini flight of seven stairs, and still, no destination in sight.

  “She’s my stepmother’s favorite tattletale,” Lachlan explains.

  “She’s not even a proper assistant,” Soren adds. “She was hired as a laundry maid three years ago, but she did a much better job passing along the castle gossip to the queen of darkness than she ever did at folding linens, so she’s been promoted to various, more prestigious positions since. Depending mostly on where there’s gossip to be gathered and least on skill.”

  “Good to know.” But I can’t care about Katia and her desires for dirt on me and our fake engagement anymore. “When are we stopping? I need to know. Right now. I don’t even care where we’re going, I just need it to end. I didn’t wear shoes for long distance hiking today.”

  Soren makes a face like maybe I’m going to start getting my own stupid nicknames. Lachlan just laughs at me. Not the way he did before, when we were still the normal us. Now he does a new sort of laughing, it’s understated and less catching, but still just as sincere. “Monroe and I were booted to the East Wing when she first came to live with me because she cried at night. The East Wing was mostly retired before that, used only for tours offered to tourists on their visits here.”

  “Oh.” I try not to show how troubling I find this information. “So, I’m going to have to make this commute on a daily basis just to get back and forth from our room and the main living area?”

  “Your room,” Soren corrects.

  “What did I say?”

  “Our.” Lachlan doesn’t look at me when he says it. Doesn’t laugh this time either. “We’ll have separate rooms until we’re married.”

  “The Ivory Suite has been prepared for you,” Soren says.

  “Color or name?” Seems like a necessary question now.

  “Color,” Lachlan says when Soren refuses to answer. “And it’s right across the hall from me.”

  “Where’s Mo’s room?” I ask.

  “The nursery was built in an adjoining suite to the prince’s quarter’s” a new voice chimes in. I swear, this place must have secret passages. Feels like people just pop out of the walls around here. “Your highness,” she says sweetly, bowing her head to Lachlan. “Miss.” She doesn’t bow to me, but I do get a lovely fake smile from her.

  “Katia?” I guess. Or conclude. That feels more accurate. I did have enough clues to arrive here. Between Soren’s intel and the way she’s standing guard in front of my door. I’m assuming it’s my door. We’ve stopped walking, so I sincerely hope I’ve completed my required steps for the day.

  “Yes, miss,” she says, still displaying the same creepy smile she gave me when she greeted me. “I see Soren has been kind enough to foretell of my arrival as your personal aid.”

  “Yes,” I say, nodding. “Soren has been kind like that.” I take a deep breath, mentally assessing all the ways in which we can move forward from this moment and if any of them will get me what I want. Into a room, without my shoes and bra, definitely without Katia, but with Lachlan. And preferably without Soren as well. We have so much strategizing left to do before morning, we really need every second of privacy we can get.

  “Darling,” Lachlan says. Then, “Sweetheart.” When I still don’t respond, he opts for my name. “Greer.”

  “Sorry.” I spin back around to face him, realizing my mistake a little too late. “It’s all just a little overwhelming, I think I zoned out there for a second.” I don’t generally enjoy using the ditz factor as an excuse, but right now I’m too tired to put in the effort for a better cover.

  “I thought you might be,” he says gently, hand squeezing the one of mine still draped over his arm. “It’s why I was about to suggest you let Katia get you settled in your room so you can retire for the night.”

  “That would be lovely.” This time, I’m quicker on the uptake. It may be late here, and my feet may be tired from walking, but the rest of me is still very much on eastern time, where it’s all of six in the evening right now. Which reminds me. “The kitchen down by your father’s office, is that the only one? Or do you have multiple here? Like libraries?”

  “If you’re hungry, miss, I’d be happy to arrange for someone to bring you something,” Katia offers.

  I look at Lachlan for a clue on how to proceed. I’d be perfectly happy to go fix myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich right now, but I get the feeling that’s not really an option.

  “No need, Katia,” he answers on my behalf. “I’ve already made arrangements for a late dinner to be brought to her room.”

  “You have?” I feel like Lachlan is surprising me a lot tonight. I’m not sure if I like it yet. Though, I can’t deny I like that I have dinner coming my way.

  “He has,” Soren confirms.

  Then, before I can find any other reason to stall and put off being alone with Katia, who frankly is starting to scare me a little with her non-stop fake smiling, I’m being ushered away, into my room, by Scary Katia. Also, Soren is already leaving his mark on me.

  “Good lord, a girl could get lost in here,” I mumble to myself following Katia through the rooms as she gives me the grand tour. And I do mean grand. It’s beyond what I would call a suite. It’s like the sort of ritzy loft every New Yorker dreams of, but none of us can actually afford. And I mean loft in a literal sense here. My little Ivory Suite is a two-story situation, complete with two balconies, a master bath equipped with a Jacuzzi tub and sauna, a guest bath, a den, an insane bedroom with the most enchanting canopy bed beyond what even my princess-loving heart has imagined, and a formal living room. The walk-in closet alone is nearly as big as the apartment I share with Mal.

  “Wait, is that a-” I can’t even get the words out, I’m so touched at the sight.

  “A coffee bar? Yes, miss. The prince ordered it installed just this morning.”

  I clutch my chest and sigh dramatically. “He really does love me.”

  “It would seem so.” It’s the first I see the smile start to falter. “You’ll find your bags have been unpacked and your belongings stored in the appropriate places.” She pauses, as if to acknowledge what we both noticed while inside my new closet. The small wardrobe I packed only made the empty space look that much larger. “After seeing how little you brought, the queen made an appointment for you with Simon Sidka. He’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

  “Who? And Why?”

  “Simon dresses every member of the royal family. There’s an image to uphold, after all. And Simon will assure you are able to meet those standards in your personal presentation.” The fake smile returns, magnified by a hundred. “I took the liberty of putting up your pictures on the nightstand.” I brought the same two framed pictures I’ve had beside my bed all of my adult life. My father and me in front of his s
hop the day he opened it. I was five. And the other of me and my childhood friend, Brice, the first I ever made. He died in a car accident just a few years after my mother left. We were eight. “However, no one was quite sure what to do with that,” she says snidely, pointing at the carrier entrapping Cheese for the last several hours. It’s been left sitting on the floor next to the door leading to the guest bath, as if someone was tempted to take him in there and flush him down the toilet to return him to the sewer, but then thought better of it.

  “Cheese would have been the easiest one to unpack,” I say happily. And I’m genuinely happy because of what I’m about to do. “See?” I bend down, open the little door and out he comes, scurrying off across the floor to explore. “All done.”

  Katia looks positively horrified. “Miss, you can’t just let a rat roam the castle.”

  “I can’t?” I tilt my head a bit, cocking a curious brow at her. “Can you actually tell me I can’t do something?”

  Her mouth flattens uncomfortably. “No, miss.”

  “Fantastic.” I pick up the empty carrier and go to stuff it into the hall closet which I notice is mostly for throw blankets and spare sofa cushions. Cheese’s travel house will fit in here perfectly fine. “And not to worry, Cheese stays close to where his supper is served. He’ll never even leave the suite.” Never is perhaps a stronger word than I should use, but only on rare occasion has he ventured across the hall to Chase and Abbas’s place, and he’s certainly had ample opportunity to leave our floor all together, given our doors are always swinging open and shut. So, I’m okay with being bold here. Plus, I think Katia needs it. Her skin seems to get paler the longer we talk about Cheese. “His name is Cheese, by the way. He answers to it. Sometimes. But he always comes for oatmeal. The food. Not the word. You can’t just shout out ‘oatmeal’ and expect to see him come running. He has to be able to smell it to make the effort.” Her expression continues to morph even after I stop talking and I can’t help but think of Lachlan and the first time we met. “Also, my name is Greer, not miss. Much like Cheese and the word oatmeal, ‘miss’ is not going to conjure much reaction from me.” I pause. “Talks a lot of crazy’ Greer. That’s what my friends call me behind my back. I don’t answer to that either, but I thought it might help you make a little more sense out of me, which you seem to need help with since you’re staring at me like one of us is losing their mind and you’re not sure which one of us it is.” Then it’s my turn to smile sweetly.

  LACHLAN

  “OKAY, TELL ME THE TRUTH,” Soren says, all of thirty seconds after we’re inside my personal quarters and safely isolated from prying eyes and ears. “What’s the whole story with you and Greer?”

  I keep walking to the coat closet and take off my shoes and jacket, placing both inside before I answer him. “I thought you didn’t want to have to lie. Risk of losing your firstborn child and all.”

  “Look at me,” he says, both hands splayed out at his sides. “I think we both know I’m not passing these genes on to anyone.” I start moving again, this time toward the sofa. Soren is on the move again as well, coming over to join me here. “Go ahead. Make me lie. We both know you need me in the loop to pull off whatever you’re about to pull off.”

  He’s not wrong. Part of me knew I would wind up sitting here with him tonight, filling him in on all the details I couldn’t share over the phone because my stepmother has all the staff’s phones bugged, for security purposes according to her. One of the maids tried to get a second phone once, a personal one, for private calls, something she should have been well within her right to do. The queen didn’t think so. The poor woman was fired on the spot.

  “If I tell you,” and I’m on the verge of deciding to. Part of me still thinks I should talk it over with Greer first. After all, we’re partners in this. “You won’t just face being fired if it falls apart. You’ll be an accessory to fraud. And I may be safe from consequences, but we both know, you won’t be.”

  Soren’s not swayed. “If your plan ensures you’re king instead of Backup Apsel, I’ll risk whatever’s necessary. Make me an accessory. Please. For our country, I would consider it an honor.”

  “Apsel wouldn’t run the place into the ground, you know. And he’s not likely to go out and start a war or tank the economy, being as his mother’s so fond of money and the family’s wealth can’t be maintained if Linden’s isn’t,” I point out all the reasons his dramatic antics are a little hard to buy into. “You’d survive here, even if I wasn’t king. Better still, if you’re not in jail.”

  “I’m not going to jail,” he dismisses the very thought of it. “Whatever you two cooked up is obviously already working. I’m just going to shadow the whole operation in case there’s some unexpected hiccup, a job which I will do whether you tell me what’s going on or not, but which I will be a hell of a lot better at if I know what lies we’re trying to tell and where the truth could screw things up with said lies.”

  It’s about what I expected his take on things to be. It’s part of why Soren has been with me all these years. His loyalty is unwavering. And not just because he despises the queen and went to school with Apsel whose friends bullied the shit out of him. We’ve become genuine pals over the years. Best friends, even. He would be here, asking to help, whether he was on my payroll or not. Which is why I owe him this truth, even when I know it could hurt him down the road. If the roles were reversed, I’d expect him to tell me too.

  “Greer is Chase’s neighbor,” I start slowly. “She nannies by day, which is how we started spending time together. She was helping me with Monroe while I was there.” She helped me so much more beyond her nannying skills, but that’s not relevant here. “She was watching her for me the day I went to meet Triston.” Outside of McKenna, I haven’t told anyone the details of this encounter. Figured the less people that knew the better. Less chance of any of it ever coming back around to Monroe someday. “He seemed like a nice enough guy when I showed up.”

  “But?”

  “I don’t know. It was little stuff at first. He wouldn’t call Riley by her name, just kept calling her ‘that chick’.” That did more than just rub me the wrong way. Several times, my fist came close to leaving a lasting impression with his walls and punching things has never been my first instinct. “It was more of the same when we started talking about Monroe. Then it was, ‘the kid’. He wouldn’t admit to having any ties to her one minute but then denied needing a paternity test the next. Next thing I knew, he was asking about money. How much he was going to get if he stepped up and said the kid was his.” I remember just staring at him for what felt like forever, seriously trying to talk myself into believing that I heard wrong. That I misunderstood. Hell, that I made it up because secretly, I wanted him to give me a reason to walk out of there and never look back. “When I went to pick up Monroe after, I was still reeling from everything. Greer could tell something went wrong. She practically forced me to dump my whole life story on her.” I’m lying. It was easy to tell her. I wanted to tell her. And I’ve never wanted to tell anyone.

  “And then she agreed to marry you so you could keep your kid and eat your kingdom too?” Soren’s idea of getting serious is to make as many jokes as possible.

  “More like she suggested it. Volunteered herself and then insisted I take her up on it.” I go back and forth on whether or not it was right for me to let her do that. Time will tell, I suppose. If she gets hurt in all of this, regardless of what I gain along the way, I’ll never be alright with it. “She’s an actress,” I add the last detail that helped me rationalize my way to a yes when she first made her proposal. “I’ve essentially hired her to play a part. She’ll get paid in the divorce. And then that will be the end of it. She’ll go back home, and we’ll move forward here.”

  “She’s a good actress.” For some reason, Soren doesn’t sound like he’s joking this time. Not that what he said should have been funny. But then that doesn’t tend to stop him from delivering it like it ought to be
.

  “She is,” I agree. “And she’s quick to improvise. Thinks fast. She’s already gotten us out of a few sticky spots.” Which reminds me. “Now that you know everything, I have a first task for you.”

  “Let’s hear it.” Soren rubs his hands together, eager to be an active participant in our scheme. “Anything you need.”

  “Greer and I haven’t had much time to go over our backstory, personal history, things that will likely come up in conversation. We were planning to cover everything on the plane –“

  “But then the queen of unholy terror stuck Alexa on you and made it impossible,” he finishes.

  “Exactly.” I glance sideways toward the door and the suite across from it. Almost fitting she’s wound up across the hall from me again. “And now we have Katia complicating things.”

  “Say no more,” Soren says, standing from the sofa. “I already have a job that will keep her busy until morning.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I know a lot of things happen behind the scenes around here that I’m not privy too, but I’m having a hard time imagining a chore that’s so pressing and so time consuming it needs to be done from now until morning. “What is it?”

  He grins. “A personalized map of the castle, complete with all the important routes Greer will need to know, markers noted along the way to help her navigate and a special section dedicated to all the names of every member on staff along with the various parts of the castle she is most likely to encounter them.” He teeter totters on the soles of his feet, tipping forward and back as he goes on, “I’ll tell her you ordered it. That you insisted it be done by the time our newest royal wakes up to help her feel more comfortable in her new home.” Then he stops his swaying in place and heads for the door. “I’ll have her out of the room by the time your food comes. I trust you can roll your own cart across the hall?” He’s out the door, pulling it shut behind him before I can answer.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN