Becoming Princess Eden: Book One: How They Met (Seahorse Island 1)

by Lisa Lee

  “For her safety, I need you to just be her doctor,” he said, unyielding.

  She wilted and shuffled to the door, the confident doctor gone and, in her place, a defeated woman.

  Mr. Holt exhaled slowly and walked around the room as we waited for her return. I wondered about his exchange with the doctor, but with the tiredness in my body, the thoughts were fleeting. As soon as my eyelids fluttered closed, the door opened again, and I sighed.

  The doctor jammed the medications into Mr. Holt’s hand, her pressed lips indicating her displeasure. She then released a breath and turned to me with a tremulous smile. “I hope to see you again, Eden,” she said. “I will be praying for your safety.” She then stepped forward and hugged me hard. I wondered if doctors were supposed to hug their patients.

  “Ouch!” I said as I felt a hair get caught on something.

  When I wiggled out of her embrace, I saw that she held a few of my hairs in her hand.

  “Sorry,” she said. “They must have gotten caught on my button.”

  “Dr. Brown,” Mr. Holt began in a warning tone.

  “Don’t you have to go?” the doctor replied, a hint of challenge in her eyes.

  “I’m ready,” I said to Mr. Holt as I jumped off the table. I swayed a little bit but then steadied.

  Mr. Holt hesitated, but then he handed me a bag and said, “You’ve got three minutes.” Inside the bag were a bouncy, curly blonde wig, jeans, and a t-shirt. The wig reminded me of Kaitlyn and my other friends.

  “God, please let them all be alive!” I prayed as I dressed.

  Despite myself, when we arrived at Untouchable City’s airport, I felt a small frisson of excitement at the idea of flying in an airplane. The airport was huge, and there were tons of people moving in a hurry. But Mr. Holt drove me to a section that was quite quiet, for private flights only.

  “I can’t go with you,” Mr. Holt said as he handed me my medication and a passport. “Remember that a Mr. Holmes should meet you when you land at Heathrow, and then you will fly to Seahorse Island.”

  Mr. Holt boarded the plane with me and then spoke to the pilot and a flight attendant. Before he deplaned, he looked me up and down, his brows scrunched together in concern. “You all right?”

  “You haven’t told me about my fiancé,” I said.

  “You’ll meet him soon. Remember to give him the greeting I taught you, the one you use for social superiors.”

  TWELVE

  Gideon, Line of Succession

  Six weeks after his return to the palace, Gideon stood in the nursery, staring at his niece, Amara, as she stared solemnly back at him. She was so very tiny and light in his two hands that her fragility humbled him. He rarely got to interact with her. Her twin, Aditya, tended to be the more demanding of the two girls, so he had held her plenty in the past weeks. Amara either slept the blissful sleep of newborns or looked on quietly as Aditya cried and fussed. Now Aditya was with Lily and his mother, playing on the other side of the nursery, and Amara was awake. After continuing to stare at him for a moment, Amara finally smiled at him.

  “I got it!” he whisper-shouted as he smiled back.

  Amara promptly started crying at his enthusiasm, which set Aditya to crying as well.

  “Nice going,” his brother said with a smirk as he reached over to take his daughter.

  She immediately settled down and looked at Gideon almost accusingly from the safe cocoon of her father’s arms.

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” Gideon said to Gabriel.

  “I know, you and Amara were having a mutual admiration society meeting,” Gabriel said.

  “Babies need quiet, Gideon,” Lily said as she stood and rocked Aditya.

  “No, they don’t,” Gideon’s mother said. “Babies need to get used to noise. That’s the problem with children nowadays. Too much coddling.”

  Lily looked stricken for a moment, and she forgot to continue to rock Aditya, until the baby cried even louder in indignation.

  “Nonsense,” Ya Ya said from the doorway. “Babies can never be coddled too much.” She walked over and cooed and smiled at Aditya, her dark eyes alive and bright.

  Aditya stopped fussing and grabbed her great-grandmother’s finger.

  Ya Ya turned back to her daughter-in-law with her hands on her hip. “Didn’t you fire your twins’ nanny for forgetting to put her phone on vibrate while they were sleeping?”

  “Their father talked me out of that, Mother, as you well know,” the queen said before she walked out of the nursery with slightly less than her usual grace.

  Lily visibly relaxed, and Gideon decided it would be a good time to exit as well. As much as he loved his nieces, he was quite ready for lunch, and he had a tight afternoon schedule.

  “Ah, Gideon.” Ya Ya interrupted his leave-taking. “Have you seen Adam?”

  “I haven’t seen him all morning,” Gideon replied as he tried to walk around her. “I’ll tell him you want to talk with him if I see him.”

  His grandmother put out a hand to stop him. “Why are you avoiding him?”

  Gideon sighed while leaning his back against the doorframe and putting his hands in his pockets. “Ya Ya, I’m not avoiding him. I have a lot of work to do, and I’m still catching up from the time I spent away.”

  “Um, is that so?” His grandmother looked at him skeptically before one of the twins cried again and diverted her attention.

  As Gideon walked away quickly, he frowned. He loved being part of his family. It soothed something within him to know he was still loved by everyone who was important to him. They welcomed him back with open arms and no words of recrimination. And yet, there was a part of him that felt he didn’t deserve their forgiveness and love. By indulging in his most improper desires, he had almost brought about the death of his brother. He had certainly killed any chance his brother had of fathering more children. Amara and Aditya had been born using embryos that Lily and Gabriel had frozen. There weren’t any more spare embryos, and the doctors had confirmed Gabriel’s unviable sperm.

  Thoughts of these things had become like a twisted wreath of heavy, jagged stones around his neck. At times, his steps faltered, and he staggered from the weight and pinch of stones visible only to the eyes of the guilty. There was only so much he could unburden to his twin, and he hadn’t made time to speak with Brother Adam in all the weeks he had been back. He dealt with his feelings by keeping busy, swimming laps before his work day, and then working until late at night or the very early morning hours. If he took time to eat away from his desk, he ate with someone from his family, and he usually peeked in on his nieces daily. He intended to make good his resolve to be a better brother, uncle, grandson, and son. He didn’t have time to waste by talking about his inner life with the too-perceptive Brother Adam.

  On his arrival back at his office, Gideon’s stomach growled, but he didn’t see his lunch waiting on his desk as he ordered. His assistant wasn’t sitting at his desk right outside Gideon’s office, either. Gideon felt himself get irritated at the thought that his assistant had gone to lunch and forgot to order lunch for Gideon. He would have to order his own lunch.

  “Sir.” Gideon’s assistant hurried into his office. “I was just in the washroom. Your mother requested your presence in the family dining room for lunch.”

  “But I have a meeting in twenty minutes,” Gideon said, further irritated.

  “It was rescheduled,” his assistant said.

  “You rescheduled a meeting because my mother requested lunch?” Gideon asked, incredulous.

  “Sir, the person you were supposed to meet with, Prince Jordain, had to reschedule due to a family emergency,” the assistant answered. “He sent his apologies. Also, your mother said your father would be at the lunch as well.”

  “I see,” Gideon said in a questioning tone. His family tried to eat together for dinner, but lunch was more ad hoc. It was certainly rare for both his father and mother to request his presence for lunch. Maybe they wanted to talk
about the marriage. His body filled with dread.

  “Did she indicate anything else?” Gideon asked carefully.

  “No, sir,” the assistant replied guilelessly.

  Gideon took a deep breath, heard his stomach growl again in demand for food, and walked toward the Li Family dining room in the royal family’s private area. Only family members ate in this dining room, no guests. For some reason, the architect had designed the room so that it was round. It had been decorated with lavender and silver accents and, per the queen’s mandate, filled with an array of fragrant island flowers. The round table was topped with deep-purple granite.

  It was Gideon’s favorite room in which to dine. He and Gabe had been forced to eat in the nursery until they were thirteen. No amount of begging or pleading would get his parents to relent prior to that time. Gideon would never admit how very pleased he had been when he and Gabe had finally been admitted to the “adult” dining room. As he walked toward it, his mouth watered from the enticing aroma of thoroughly spiced food, even as his stomach twisted as he guessed the reason for his mother’s summons.

  “Gideon, you came.” His mother greeted him with a hug, momentarily ensconcing him with warm arms and the citrus-spiced scent she wore. His mother hugged him a lot these days.

  “Of course,” he said, pulling back to smile at her. His mother could be noisy and intrusive, but he knew she loved him.

  “We’ll eat a la carte today, but I had the chef make your favorites, sesame ginger chicken and pot stickers. Also, for dessert—”

  “Jasmine, are you a waitress?” King Edward queried his wife. “Let the boy get his food so we can eat.” The king had a bowl of ox bone soup in front of him.

  Gideon had swallowed one delicious bite of sesame ginger chicken, when his mother started the conversation. “The line of succession depends on you,” she stated baldly.

  Gideon’s father sighed and said, “Jasmine, must we do this now? Can’t it wait until at least the coffee is served?”

  Gideon nearly choked on his water. “What are you talking about?”

  Queen Jasmine looked at him as though he were a simpleton. “Lily had girls.”

  Gideon looked at her before daring to speak what had been on his mind for some time. “Can’t father issue some sort of decree so girls can inherit?”

  “It’s in the Royal Rules of State enacted during the early days of the island. It’s one of the few rules I can’t change,” the king said. “At least, not without a vote from all the communal leaders agreeing.”

  “You don’t think they will?” Gideon asked, surprised. “Have we asked for a change to the Royal Rules before?”

  “No,” his father answered. “And I don’t intend to start now. With all the upheaval caused by Sector 16, everyone is trying to take advantage of the shifting power balance.”

  “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault,” his mother said, starting to cry.

  Gideon stared at her, uncomprehending.

  “No, Jasmine, the fault is all mine,” his father replied.

  “What are you talking about?” Gideon asked, impatience seeping into his voice.

  “Son, we have a confession,” his father replied, his face reddening. “When I saw your mother, I knew I wanted to marry her and no one else.”

  “Okay?” Gideon replied, still confused.

  “But your mother wasn’t the best genetic match,” his father said.

  His mother continued, “But we knew a doctor who could modify the gene that made me incompatible, and he confirmed it well enough that your father and I felt safe marrying.”

  “I know you got married,” Gideon said. “Was there another kid or something?” he asked, shocked at the thought even as he asked the question.

  “No, no,” his mother said, her face very red. “When we went to the doctor to have the embryo that had been genetically modified implanted, the doctor discovered I was already a week or so pregnant with you.”

  “I have the defective gene?” Gideon asked.

  At his parents’ embarrassed nods, Gideon said, “Gabriel really is the perfect child, and I am the defective version.” He stood up and threw his fork on the table, immediately regretting the rude action but unable to speak through the sudden tightness in his throat.

  “Gideon—” his mother started to say, but Gideon ignored her and stalked out of the dining room and his family’s personal quarters.

  He intended to head back to his office, but he felt too bothered to sit at his desk. Looking at his watch phone, he saw he had time before his next meeting, so he decided to visit the east garden and walk the tension off.

  As he opened the door to the garden, the wind flew in, making him shiver with cold. He needed a coat, so he held the door open with one hand and reached over to grab his coat off a nearby hook.

  “Do you think Prince Gideon suspects?” Gideon heard a voice ask. He realized it was coming from the garden, but he didn’t see anyone.

  “I told you not to mention him by name,” an irritated voice replied.

  Gideon’s eyes widened as he recognized the voice of his father’s chief of staff.

  “Sorry, sir,” said a contrite voice, one that Gideon didn’t recognize.

  “I take it that the package has been redirected?” the chief of staff asked the unknown man.

  “Yes, to The Glass House as you instructed,” said the unknown man.

  “Prince, do you need a warmer coat?” One of the palace staffers was hurrying over with a long down coat that was much warmer than the coat in his hand.

  Gideon cursed inwardly. “No, it’s all good. I was just about to take a walk.” Just then, Gideon’s watch phone pinged and then pinged multiple times in succession. It was his mom, Gabe, Luke, and James, all wondering where he was.

  Sighing, Gideon let go of the door, put the coat back on the hook, and returned to the family dining room, dreading a continuation of the conversation he had deserted.

  Once at the dining room’s elegant double doors, Gideon took a deep breath and opened a door. Only his father was in the room.

  “Where’s mom?” he asked.

  His father replied, “She went to see to something. She will be back in a few minutes.”

  As he sat down, Gideon wished his mother was present. The atmosphere was tense.

  “Two whiskeys, sir.” A server came in and put a whiskey in front of each man.

  “Can you remove my whiskey and bring seltzer water and lime?” Gideon asked.

  He was annoyed when he saw the server look to his father for permission before removing the whiskey, saying, “Of course, sir.”

  “You don’t like the whiskey?” his father asked.

  “I’m avoiding alcohol after . . . after everything,” Gideon said, wishing his father would get to the point.

  His father only nodded and took a sip of his own whiskey. His father’s throat moved as he swallowed, and Gideon suddenly remembered how he loved the warmth that filled his body after a sip of whiskey. After his father’s third sip, Gideon, in desperation, decided to go on the offensive.

  “You want me to get married and have sons?” he asked. “I can’t guarantee the sons, but I can get married. Do I get to choose her?”

  His father took another sip of whiskey before replying, “I’m hoping you agree with our choice. She was chosen with you in mind.”

  That was a definitive no on getting to choose his own bride. “Whom do I marry?” Gideon willed his leg not to bounce up and down. He didn’t want to get married, and he was unsettled by the urgency with which his parents were treating his marriage. He had promised himself that he would be a better son. He had not envisioned that part of being a better son was allowing his parents to pick his bride.

  “You don’t know her,” his father replied.

  “I think I know all the eligible women of suitable families,” Gideon replied. Apart from Angel, he had made sure to keep his interest limited to women whose family background would never be acceptable for a royal m
arriage. At his father’s look, which said he knew exactly what his son had been doing, Gideon shrugged.

  “As I said, you don’t know her. She’s from America,” his father said, barely keeping the distaste from his voice.

  “America?” Gideon asked, astonished. America had been trying for greater influence on the island for years. “That country executed its own president because she refused to bow down to those militia groups.” He shuddered as he remembered the images of all the executions and chaos that followed. Some streets in America had literally run red with blood. It was as if hell had been turned loose on earth.

  “I know,” his father said. “But the problem is, if you marry someone on the island, you will be required to share your gene map. The defective gene only activates if both the parents have the gene, so it probably wouldn’t be a problem in actuality, since the gene is not common here. But the real problem is, the existence of the defective gene would be hard to keep secret in a marriage negotiation.”

  “Is that bad?” Gideon asked.

  “It would be embarrassing,” his father said. “The defective gene causes white pupils.”

  “Oh. Is that where the eyes look as though they have no color? The entire eye looks white?” Gideon asked.

  “Yes, the person can still see, but it’s hard for others to look at them,” his father replied.

  “It’s very creepy,” Queen Jasmine said from the doorway and delicately shivered. “Your father and I should have been more consistent in our use of birth control, but then you wouldn’t be here if we had been.”

  “Thanks, I think,” Gideon replied, standing upon his mother’s entry into the dining room.

  “Don’t worry,” his mother said as she sat down and motioned for him to do the same. “We found a nice girl for you to marry. She’s from America, but she has no family to ask probing questions. Best of all, she’s a great genetic match.”

  “Plus, your mother will have plenty of time to mold her,” his father said.

  “How old is she?” Gideon asked.

  “Sixteen,” his mother replied, holding up a hand to stop his next question. “You won’t marry her until she’s around twenty-three.”