Reluctantly Royal

by Nichole Chase

  A choir sang a hymn, the voices twining together through the rafters of the old church. Then the minister talked about Granddad, telling them about his life as a workingman, his love for his family and friends. He talked about how Granddad had fished with Marty, which made my son bury his face against my arm.

  When it was almost time to sing, I took a deep breath and tried to gain my composure. It was like trying to grab silk line with oil-slathered hands. Feeling eyes on me, I looked to where Max was watching me. The light streaming through the stained-glass windows of the church splashed along his face, but it was his emerald gaze that held my attention.

  I’m not sure what it was that passed between us, but it filled me with strength. If Max could come out and deal with the media, the spotlight, then I could get up and do what I did best.

  “Lady Meredith is now going to sing a farewell to her beloved grandfather.”

  I kissed Marty’s head and looked at Max. Without a word, he slid a casual arm around my son’s shoulders.

  As I stood up and walked toward the dais, I let go of my nerves and slid into the quiet zone I retreated to before a show. This was the place where I found my voice, where I found myself.

  The minister stepped forward and shook my hand before leaning forward and kissing my cheek.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. I know that your grandfather loved you very much.” He squeezed my hands.

  “Thank you.”

  “The stage is yours, my lady. I’ve heard such wonderful things about your voice.” He smiled. “I’m sure your grandfather will be listening.”

  “I hope so.” Letting go of his hands, I stepped up to the podium and looked out at the audience.

  The church was filled with people, but I didn’t let that faze me. I’d sung for larger groups before. As the piano began to play, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  This was my farewell to a man who had taught me what family meant, to reach for my dreams, and never to take no for an answer.

  This is for you, Granddad.

  Opening my mouth, I let the words fall out. I reached deep and sang with my heart, the pain that I felt echoed by the melody of the song. I’d chosen a more contemporary song, something that had become popular on the indie music circuit. I’d fallen in love with the words. It spoke of carrying that person’s love with you even if they were gone. Something about it touched my heart, and I wanted everyone in the room to feel it, too.

  I didn’t look at anyone in particular as I sang. Instead I imagined Granddad standing in the aisle. I knew his eyes would be full of tears, because he always cried when I sang. It had started when I was little and in school, and even the last time I had been practicing while I visited for a Christmas holiday.

  As the song neared its pinnacle I let my eyes run over the front pews. The local government was well represented, as were the local businesses. But then my eyes found my father as he watched with a stone face. I’d never understood why he hated my singing. He treated it with disgust, and at best, he ignored it. Marty watched me with a small smile, his perfect little face warming my heart.

  As my eyes met Max’s, I almost stuttered. There was something in his expression that made me feel light. Pride and possession filled his face. I could practically feel his eyes like a gentle caress.

  As the song drew to a close, I noticed that people were wiping at their cheeks and my pride swelled. Never had I sung better than I had for my grandfather. For the first time since finding out that Granddad had died, I felt as if I’d had my chance to say good-bye.

  Stepping down from the podium, I went straight to Marty and hugged him, before taking my seat.

  “You sounded great.” Marty hugged me tightly.

  “Thank you, baby.” I kissed his head and looked up at Max.

  When the choir began to sing, I looked back to the front and watched as the pallbearers took their spots around the coffin. Even my father strode up to the stage with steady steps. His face was a mask of confusion and pain. Seeing him struggle with reality without the aid of liquor was painful. It was obvious that he would rather be anywhere but here. And for a lot of reasons, I could agree with him.

  Patrick looked pale, but determined. He stood just behind Max, whose face was composed into a vague sense of compassion. It was a practiced face, one that I’m sure he used for situations when he was uncomfortable, but needed to look the part. I felt bad that I had put him in that position, but I was even more grateful that he had agreed to do it. He had truly stepped up and helped my family.

  He had helped me. Even when I begged him not to. Talk about being stubborn.

  I watched as he walked with the others out of the church to the waiting cars outside. As a family, we were urged to stand and follow the casket. For the first time in my life I hated having everyone watch my every move. This was not the same as being on stage or performing. This was my real life—a painful moment in our family’s history.

  Marty held my hand and I was grateful to have my new friends following behind us. It took some of the attention away from Marty and me. I stopped in the foyer of the building, next to the guest log, so that I could thank the people who had attended. It was a blur of faces and handshakes, well wishes and condolences. I looked over my shoulder to see Max throw me a guilty look, but he didn’t come to assist with the line. Instead I watched as he dipped into one of the cars. By the time it was over, I felt like I’d shaken every hand in Lilaria. And for some reason had a strong desire to wash my hands, or to dose them in hand sanitizer.

  “My lady, your car is waiting.” Rachel touched my shoulder. “Her Highness, Princess Cathy, is already in the car with your son. I put some snacks inside for Marty and you. I figured you might be hungry, thirsty at least, after that long reception line.”

  “Thank you, Rachel.” I looked at the woman. “You’ve been a huge help.”

  Outside, the sky was at odds with the sorrow in my heart. Bright, puffy clouds floated in a clear blue sky, and I had to squint my eyes after being in the dark church for so long. Even from as far away as the photographers were, I could hear the whir and snaps of their cameras. Some of them called my name, but I kept my gaze down and continued on. Now was not the time for pictures or statements.

  The driver opened the car door for me and I slid onto the back bench.

  “Mom! Do you want some fizzy water?” Marty held up a green bottle of carbonated water.

  “I think a regular water would be just fine.” I looked around the interior of the limousine and my eyes fell on Max.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I ride with you.” He cocked his head to the side. “Cathy, Alex, and Sam are riding with your father.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  “I’m sorry I left you to deal with that line of people by yourself.” He leaned back in his seat. “I figured Marty could use some company.”

  “And you hate lots of people staring at you.” My mouth twisted into a small smile.

  “And I hate having lots of people staring at me.” He chuckled. “Makes me feel like a baboon at the zoo. People just looking at me because I have a title.” He mimed having the chills. “Can’t stand it.”

  “I think you’ve done more than enough for this family.” I lowered my eyes and looked at my shoes. There was a small scuff on the left toe where a member of parliament had accidentally stepped on me.

  “It’s been my pleasure.” His voice had lost its teasing quality and taken a turn for the serious. “And I’ll be here to help as long as you need me.”

  What if that’s forever? The question came unbidden to my mind. Silently I berated myself. I couldn’t keep Max. I couldn’t, even though I was really starting to want to. Not just because of the way he made me feel, but because of the way he looked at Marty. There was love in his gaze when he looked at my son, kindness and amusement.

  Looking out the window, I tried to focus on the tasks at hand. Now wasn’t the time to think about Max. Was it? Maybe it wa
s natural that my mind sought something happier to fixate on. Was that all this was with Max?

  I surreptitiously glanced in his direction. Had I slept with him just because I had needed something good? As I watched him talk to Marty and open a package of crackers for him, I knew it had been more than that. Max had infiltrated our family bubble, our lives . . . my heart.

  I never would have imagined that I would fall for a prince who hated the limelight. Hell, I’d given up on love all together. I hadn’t been sure it actually existed. But here I was in the middle of it, completely confused by how I had gotten there.

  And now I didn’t know what to do.

  In the limo on the way to entomb my grandfather in an old family plot, I’d realized that I had fallen in love with a man, completely my opposite, in only a matter of days.

  So I did what any sane person would do in a situation like that. I laughed.

  Loudly. Until I started snorting, which made me laugh even more.

  “Does she do this often?” Max asked Marty.

  “Sometimes,” Marty replied. “She doesn’t usually make that weird pig noise though.”

  I’d started to tear up I was laughing so hard. I was in love. Love. Me. In love. Jesus, no wonder I hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Apparently a good smack-a-roo was all it took to win my heart.

  And I was in love with someone who would hate everything about the life I was trying to build. Living the life I wanted to live would be a type of torture for Max. I was in love. And I was completely stupid.

  “Are you okay?” Max leaned forward and touched my knee.

  “I—I am.” I covered my mouth and tried to rein myself in. If anyone saw me right now they would think I was insane. Which is probably what Max was wondering right that minute.

  “Do you need anything?” He looked at me with worried eyes, but didn’t take his hand from my knee.

  “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I just realized something.” I wiped at my cheeks and tried to shrug it off. Could I make it work? Could we make it work? Would he even want to try?

  “Must’ve been funny.” He raised his eyebrows and grinned.

  “Not really.” I shook my head. There was nothing funny about being in love. The last time I’d fallen in love, I’d ended up with a baby and a broken heart.

  The look on his face made me giggle again. I guess my brain just refused to handle any more stress or hurt. How could I convince him that we could make it work? I kept Marty out of the spotlight. Surely I could keep a boyfriend from being overwhelmed, right?

  “Maybe you’ll tell me someday.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Maybe I will.” That calmed my giggles. Would I, could I tell him that I was in love with him? Would that send him running for the hills? The thought almost made me feel nauseous. My eyes traveled over Max’s face, taking in the darker eyebrows, bright green eyes, and strong jaw. He might be an artist, but he was a work of art himself. He shifted from the seat across from me so that he was sitting next to me.

  He watched my face, trying to decipher what I was thinking. The thumb of the hand on my knee rubbed gently, causing goose bumps to erupt over my skin.

  “Are you being mushy?” Marty’s voice broke our staring contest.

  “What?” My pulse quickened, and for a minute I felt like a girl caught by her parents.

  “You look all gooey.” He made a kissing face and I felt my eyes widen.

  “Would that be okay?” Max asked.

  My heart sped up and I started to speak but Marty beat me to it.

  “I guess.” He shrugged. “Can we still play video games?”

  “You’re not tired of losing to me?” Max laughed.

  “I beat you twice last time!” Marty shook his head. “You need to practice.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t mind you beating me a bunch more.” Max leaned back in the seat next to me and casually draped his arm along the seat. He looked at me with a calm expression and shrugged.

  Could I really just leave it at that? Marty had never seen me with anyone before. When I’d dated people in the past, they’d had no contact with my son. Some of them hadn’t even known I had a son. Which was exactly how I’d wanted it. They were never going to get that close to me anyway.

  But Max. Max had come in to our lives from such a different direction. How could I have known we would be here today? I hadn’t put up any walls or set any limits. Max had walked right into our lives and wouldn’t leave when I tried to push him out. It was like he had found a hole and plugged it.

  FOURTEEN

  MY HEART COULDN’T beat any harder if I was running a decathlon. Asking Marty if he minded if I dated his mother—well, was mushy with his mother—had been scary. Not the jump-out-of-the-dark, haunted-house scary, but the real-life, this-shit-matters kind of scary.

  Meredith hadn’t responded and was still sitting rigidly next to me. When I’d asked Marty, I hadn’t thought about how she might feel about the question. It burst out of my mouth without thought. I had wanted to know if it bothered him that I cared for his mother.

  Care.

  That’s a word that covers all kinds of emotions. You care for your great-aunt Gertrude. You care about acquaintances. You care about your family and their well-being.

  You also love your family.

  “Have you beaten the Master Robot yet?” I cleared my throat and looked at Marty.

  “Not yet, but I think I know how.” Marty sat forward in his seat. “There’s a hidden platform.”

  “How’d you find it?”

  Meredith relaxed a little and leaned back in her seat. I left my arm where it was, not on her shoulders, but encasing the space around her. I was testing the waters without making a big splash. It was time to tread carefully.

  “I was trying to reach the alien boomerang, but kept hitting something. I thought I wasn’t doing it right, but then I realized there was something in my way.” Marty waved his hands around in demonstration and I couldn’t fight my smile. “How cool is that? When I grow up I want to make video games so people can find cool stuff.”

  “That would be an awesome job.” I nodded my head.

  “I thought you wanted to be a dolphin trainer,” Meredith asked. Her voice was amused and she seemed to relax even more into my side.

  “I can do both!” Marty held his hands up. “I could make a game with dolphins in it.”

  “Calm down, little man. You’re rocking the car.” Meredith laughed.

  “But it would be so cool.” Marty sat back in his seat and put his arms down.

  “It takes a lot of math to make video games.”

  “Ew.” Marty made a face and it was hard not to laugh.

  “She’s right,” I told him. “I have a friend that does computer animation and he spends a lot of time working with numbers.”

  “Yuck.”

  “It’s not that bad,” I assured him.

  “I hate numbers.” He frowned.

  I couldn’t argue with him about that because I wasn’t fond of math myself. “Cathy is pretty good at math. Maybe you could ask her to help.”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t like math. Maybe I’ll just be a dolphin trainer.”

  “Pretty sure there’s going to be math in anything you pick,” Meredith warned.

  “Well, that stinks.”

  Meredith shook her head, but didn’t say anything. If I had to guess, I would say she was still trying to work things out in her head. Whether she was happy or not, I had no real clue. I’d gone and spoken without thinking again.

  But I wasn’t sure if I regretted that or not.

  If I was going to pursue whatever it was that was between Meredith and me, then I needed to know that it would be okay with her son. I wouldn’t want to make him upset. Well, it was one of the things I needed to know. I also needed to figure out how I would be able to handle her dreams of being in the spotlight. Just the thought of it made me cringe.

  As the car pulled up to
the Thysmer burial grounds, I climbed out and helped Meredith and then Marty. To my surprise, Marty held on to my hand, his little fingers gripping tightly.

  “I have to go help carry the casket.” I squeezed his hand.

  “Will you come back and stand with me?”

  “I’ll come back and stand with you and your mom as soon as I can.”

  He nodded his head and let go of my hand. I looked at Meredith and stood there for a minute. Her face was full of emotions that seemed to swirl from one to the next.

  “If that’s okay with you,” I prompted.

  “We’d like that.” Her words were quiet, thoughtful. Holding her hand out to Marty, she walked toward where my family stood.

  Turning, I took my place by the hearse and prepared to carry the casket to the tomb. It was a somber task and not one I took lightly. People were gathered about, talking quietly and watching as we placed the casket on a marble table.

  I moved through the crowd to take a place next to Marty. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around my own. I noticed a few people glancing in our direction but didn’t pay them any attention. If they wanted to talk about me holding Marty’s hand, then they could choke on their own tongues. I hated the back-talking, the gossiping, and the assumptions that came from being in the spotlight.

  But nothing would get me to pry my fingers from that little boy’s hand.

  The minister took his time praying as we all stood shifting from foot to foot. All the bells and whistles had been pulled out for the duke’s funeral.

  By the time things were wrapping up, I was sweating in my suit. I wanted nothing more than to undo my damnable tie, throw my jacket away, and get the hell away from all of these people. Playing prince was one of the things I hated the most about my life.

  As some of the people came forward to greet the grieving family, I fought my urge to fade away. Alex gave me the smallest nod to tell me to go, but I shook my head. Marty had a death grip on my fingers and there was no way I was going to leave him in this flood of people.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.” Lady Tabitha, one of my brother’s exes, smiled at me. Her eyes flickered down to Marty. “I don’t usually see you out and about.”