Royal Mistake: The Complete Series

by Ember Casey

  “The tournament begins at three this afternoon,” I say. “I have to meet King Maximilian this morning, but I should be able to be there for most of the competition. I certainly should be there by the time you go up against Reginald. The championship rounds won’t happen until the evening.”

  She nods, and I kiss the back of her hand again.

  “Shall I order us some breakfast?” I say.

  She shakes her head. “I think I’m going to go out to the gymnasium and warm up. And you should go see the doctors before you meet Maximilian. Maybe they can give you something to help with the swelling.”

  I frown. I didn’t even think about the fact that I’ll be facing Maximilian with a face full of bruises from his son and friends. No doubt the king has already received word of the scuffle, though I doubt his son gave him a very accurate description of the events. No doubt he’ll try and use this incident as leverage against me.

  I rub my forehead. This is going to be a very long morning.

  “Go,” Victoria urges me. “I’ll be fine. I always liked to spend some time alone before a big match. It helps me clear my head. And I’m sure you have a lot to do if you’re going to make it to the tournament on time.”

  I do. And as much as I hate to leave her, I know she’s right.

  “I’ll be fine,” she tells me again. “Go.”

  I lean over to brush my lips against hers. “I’ll be there this afternoon.”

  She smiles. “I know. And I’ll do my best to kick that dickwad’s ass.”

  I laugh. “Ah, I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

  And in spite of the unenviable task of spending the next several hours arguing with King Maximilian, I have a feeling this is going to be a very good day.

  Victoria

  I spend the morning practicing in the gym alone. There are special rules for fencing in these competitions—some of them are much different than the Olympic rules I’ve been used to—and it makes me all the more nervous.

  Part of me had hoped William might show up this morning—truth be told, I could use the company. Andrew doesn’t want to pressure me about this competition—and he hasn’t—but I’m still feeling a tremendous burden, both to Andrew and to the people of Montovia. I’m not sure exactly what it is about William, but I can talk to him about things like that. Almost as though he’s my brother.

  I smile to myself at the thought. Perhaps I can find a place in this family, after all.

  The palace is deserted—or seems to be—when it’s time for me to leave to enter the competition. There’s no sign of Andrew anywhere—he’s probably still dealing with King Maximilian—so I head back to the town square without him, hoping I’ve committed the special rules of this tournament to memory.

  I wait for Andrew for what seems like an eternity, almost hoping he’ll arrive to stop me from doing something that might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. If Prince Reginald really is as good as everyone says he is, I probably have no chance against him. And it’s not that I’m a woman, either. I’ve beaten my share of men in fencing competitions, but I’m out of practice. And to say I’m distracted doesn’t really even come close to describing what I’m going through now.

  Torn. That’s what I am. Torn between wanting to help Andrew—to clean up this godforsaken scepter mess once and for all—and not wanting to make a fool of myself in front of the people I may very well one day lead. If I marry Andrew…

  If I marry Andrew… My heart is still doing weird palpitations at the thought.

  Despite Andrew’s promises, he still hasn’t arrived when the tournament finally begins.

  The first several rounds are easy—young townsmen who have entered for a laugh, for the most part, though there is one young man who gives me somewhat of a run before I finally beat him.

  The quarterfinal is a bit more of a challenge. The man I’m fencing keeps up with me touch for touch until I mount a rally near the end of our joust, scoring three points in a row before time runs out.

  I take a seat on the side of the stage to watch the other quarterfinal matches. Reginald beats his opponent easily—he’s quite skilled, and I can see why he’s won most of these festival tournaments around Europe. He’s probably good enough to compete on an international level, though I suppose as a prince, he has more important things than fencing to concern himself with on a daily basis.

  The third quarterfinal match is also over rather quickly—the reigning champion of a local fencing club soundly beats another member of the same club. And in the final match, William beats a young duke from a small province in Montovia.

  I’m still not sure who I’ll face in the semifinal match. Names are drawn before each round to keep the tournament fair, though I’m almost crossing my fingers that I don’t draw Reginald just yet. I’d much rather face him in the final—I know I can take William, and the other competitor seems like he will be about equal in competition.

  A big production is made about the drawing of the names. An announcement is made that Queen Penelope is unable to perform the drawing as is her usual duty at the festival and that instead, Princess Sophia will draw.

  She grins at me, then at her brother as she takes the stage. She draws Reginald’s name first. As for who Prince Reginald will face, I swear she cheats—I’m pretty sure I see her put the name back twice before she draws the name of the fencer from the club.

  “And in the other semifinal match, Prince William of Montovia will face Victoria of America.” Sophia grins, turning her gaze between the two of us. “Let the semifinal matches begin!”

  William is sitting on the other end of the row of seats, so I can’t ask him how he feels about me taking on Reginald in the final, should it come to that. I’m also not sure how he feels about me beating him in front of the Montovian people. It might be better for me to bow out now—somewhat gracefully, at least—lest I embarrass him. That’s really the last thing I want, and not something I had even considered when I entered this competition.

  Reginald, I have no problem embarrassing. William, on the other hand… It probably isn’t worth the humiliation for either of us.

  He walks over to me, holding his mask under his arm. He glances at the match between Reginald and the other young man before he turns his gaze to mine. “What do you think?”

  I shrug, watching the two men spar for a moment. “He’s very good.”

  William nods. “Can you take him?”

  “I don’t know. Can you?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s come down to me and Reginald too many times over the years. I’ve never beaten him, Victoria. I came close once…but it wasn’t really even that close.”

  I nod, watching Reginald easily score point after point on the other man with Lady Clarissa cheering for him from the front row.

  “It’s up to you, Victoria. I’m used to losing to him. But I do think you can put up a much better fight against him than I’ll be able to.”

  I can’t think of any way to respond—there’s no easy answer. I finally look back over at William. “How bad will it be if you lose to me?”

  He lifts a brow. “Bad.” He stares at me for a moment before he grins. “Though, I’ll happily lose to you if you can beat that bastard. Especially after what he did last night.”

  “Yeah.” I shake my head, turning my gaze back to the match. “God, that guy is a dick, isn’t he?”

  “That, he is.” William lets out a long breath. “But don’t feel that you have to do this to prove that as a point, Victoria. Everyone on the continent knows what a dick Prince Reginald is.”

  William’s voice must carry, because when the point is done, Reginald turns to look at us.

  William chuckles. “And he’s far too worried about what other people think of him.” He’s silent for a moment. “Though, come to think of it, it isn’t as though there’s anything on the line. I still haven’t heard anything from Andrew, have you?”

  “No.” I turn to look over the crowd, but Andrew still isn
’t here. “I guess if the scepter isn’t on the line, we’re all just making asses of ourselves, aren’t we?”

  William laughs. “Some of us more than others, I’m afraid.” He pulls his mask on as the other match has completed. “Shall we then? I’m ready to make an ass of myself so you can make an ass of Reginald, Victoria.”

  I look at him for a moment before I pull on my own mask. I’m not sure I really want to make an ass of anyone—especially myself, but also not William.

  I know what I need to do. I need to withdraw.

  And I lift my épée to do just that when William turns to the judge, his own weapon lifted. “I withdraw.”

  My mouth falls open and I start to protest, but William pulls off his mask. “Take him, Victoria.”

  I nod, lowering my épée.

  William walks off the stage and Reginald takes his place. We both pull on our masks before saluting each other.

  As I feared, as soon as we begin to spar, Reginald begins to speak. “I’m surprised Andrew allows you to debase yourself in this manner, Victoria.”

  I don’t say anything and try to shut his voice out of my mind, instead focusing all my energy on learning how he responds to each move of mine. He has an interesting way of lifting his elbow each time I parry. I think I can take advantage of it, but it’s a little too early to tell.

  We spar for far longer than any other point I’ve had so far today, with Reginald finally scoring the first point.

  We reset and begin the next point before Reginald speaks again. “You’re not bad.”

  “Thank you.” I see an opening and touch him on the chest, scoring my first point.

  He nods and we start to fence again. “I didn’t say you were good, however.”

  I don’t answer, trying to find any other weakness of his I can exploit. He may not have said I was good, but there’s no way I’m telling him that he’s very good. By far the best opponent I’ve faced in a long time.

  We trade points for the next minute, and he’s up by one point before he speaks again. “You know there is nothing on the line in this match, do you not?”

  “Nothing but your pride, Reginald.”

  He chuckles. “I have no intention of losing to you tonight, Victoria. Though I do think we can make this bout interesting.”

  He must lose his focus for a split second, because I’m able to touch him easily, evening the score again.

  “What do you say, Victoria? Are you in?”

  “In for what?” We cross weapons again, battling each other in another long point.

  “I’ll hand over the rights to Andrew’s precious scepter. Call my father off.”

  “In exchange for what?”

  He touches me on the shoulder with the tip of his épée, scoring a point. “In exchange for you calling off your engagement.”

  My brow furrows and I don’t raise my sword to begin the next point just yet. “Why? Why would you care about my engagement?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t. Not about you, at any rate. But your fiancé humiliated my sister. And for that, he will pay.”

  I shake my head, lifting my weapon to fight again. “How about if I beat you, you hand over the rights to the scepter, no questions asked?”

  “You won’t beat me, Victoria.” He spars with me for only a second, scoring a point on me easily. He looks at me for a moment before backing up behind his line. “Do you really think you’ve scored a single point on me legitimately?” He cocks his head. “Do you think I really lift my elbow like a chicken when I fence? Have you not been watching my other matches today?”

  I lift my weapon to spar with him again, and he takes another point from me in only a second.

  He backs up again, keeping his weapon lowered. “Do the right thing for the people of Montovia, Victoria. I’ll let you win—you’ll be the hero of this country, winning back their scepter and beating the reviled Prince Reginald. And in exchange, you give Andrew back his ring.”

  “So he can marry Justine?” I shake my head. “He won’t marry her, even if I give him back his ring.”

  He lifts his weapon and we spar once more with Reginald taking the point after only a few seconds. As he backs up to reset, he speaks again. “No, he won’t be marrying Justine, either. He won’t be marrying anyone. That is what I get from this match if you agree, Victoria. The satisfaction of knowing Andrew will suffer for the rest of his life.”

  I look out over the crowd, and there. Near the back of the huge crowd that’s gathered around the stage, I see him. Andrew is looking at me, and though he can’t see me through my mask, I can feel our eyes meet.

  And it’s almost like he can hear what’s being said between Reginald and me, even though I know it’s impossible. He’s too far away and our voices are too low for anyone else to hear. But Andrew gives me a small shake of his head.

  My heart thrashes in my chest and I’m almost dizzy. If I wasn’t in the middle of a sweaty fencing tournament, I’d run to Andrew now and jump into his arms, telling him exactly what I’ve decided to do.

  And though I know I’m going to lose this match—badly—I decide to do what’s right.

  My chest rises as I prepare myself for the next point, narrowing my gaze at my opponent.

  I lift my weapon and raise my chin. “Go fuck yourself, Prince Reginald. I’m definitely not in.”

  Andrew

  My entire body is rigid as I watch the match between Reginald and Victoria.

  Around me, the crowd is getting louder and rowdier with every passing moment. The people of Montovia hate watching Reginald win our tournament every year, and while I know many of them still don’t know quite what to think of Victoria, they certainly would prefer her to win over Reginald.

  But I’m not as concerned with the results as I am with the way Reginald is looking at Victoria right now—like a cat playing with a mouse. I can’t see his eyes through his fencing mask, but I can see it in every line of his body—he sees her as his prey.

  I push through the crowd, trying to get closer to where the two of them circle each other. When people recognize me, they let me pass, but my progress is still slow.

  Meanwhile, my eyes never leave Victoria.

  She says something to Reginald, and he laughs—the same way he laughed last night when he was talking to me. I don’t know what he’s said to her, but it makes my blood boil all the same. And the way Victoria’s back stiffens makes me move that much more quickly toward the pair of them.

  Reginald scores another point on Victoria, and some of the people around me start to boo. I’m not entirely sure what the score is—I can’t tear my eyes away from Victoria—but it’s clear that Reginald is winning.

  I shouldn’t have let her compete. What was I thinking, letting her subject herself to this?

  I’ve reached the edge of the fencing arena now, and it takes all my energy to keep myself from running into the ring between the two of them. But I know that won’t solve anything. I have to let this play out.

  They’re circling each other again. I hear the sharp tones of Reginald’s voice again, but I can’t make out any of the words. Victoria says something in return, then lunges toward him again. She manages to land a point, and a cheer goes up around me.

  You can do it, my love. You can beat him.

  They’re both speaking again—it sounds almost as if they’re arguing. But I still can’t understand what they’re saying—they’re too far away, and the crowd around me is too loud. And their masks keep me from even attempting to read their lips.

  Reginald moves toward Victoria. For a moment, I think he’s scored another point, but Victoria manages to parry at the last moment. I’m holding my breath. For all that I agreed she should be able to fight for us in her own way, it’s nearly unbearable to stand by and do nothing while she and Reginald spar.

  You have to let go of some of the control, I tell myself. You have to trust her.

  My hands curl around the velvet rope encircling the tournament grounds. I want her t
o show Reginald that we won’t be intimidated by him. I want—as unprincely as it sounds—for her to kick his ass.

  He’s the better fencer—that much is clear, even to me. But Victoria has a spirit and a determination that is unmatched. And she’s fighting for something bigger than this. In spite of everything, I have every hope in her.

  And indeed, as the match goes on, she seems to be gaining some ground on him. She scores two points in a row, and nearly scores a third shortly thereafter. She and Reginald continue to argue, and if I’m not mistaken, some of the arrogance has left his tone. He’s starting to grow careless—perhaps because something Victoria’s said has shaken him.

  Somehow she’s done it. Somehow she’s managed to rattle him. I have no idea what she said to him, but I’ve always had a feeling that Reginald’s pride would be his downfall—perhaps because I’m all too aware that pride is one of my weaknesses as well.

  My eyes move to Victoria again. Never has that fact been clear than since meeting her—my pride has been challenged again and again since she came into my life. And though at times I haven’t reacted very well to that challenge, I know I am a better man because of her. She has that sort of power.

  Perhaps she can make a better man out of Reginald, too.

  They’re circling each other again.

  The crowd erupts into boos around me, even as Reginald takes a sweeping victory bow.

  I can’t take it any longer.

  “He cheated!” I shout over the noise. “Judges! He cheated!”

  A couple of people around me hear my shouts and echo me. Soon cries of “He cheated!” start getting louder and louder.

  Across the way, I see the judges look at each other in confusion. They didn’t see what I saw—Reginald made sure of it. And this is only the Montovian Salt Festival, not the Olympics or some professional sports league—there’s no “instant replay” here to check for things like this.

  I leap over the velvet rope. A small cheer goes up, while angry shouts of “He cheated!” get louder and louder.

  Reginald turns toward me. He takes off his mask in one graceful movement, then cocks his head as if listening to the cries of the crowd around us.