Taming the Rebel Prince: The Royals of Rogandal

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Taming the Rebel Prince: The Royals of Rogandal Page 4

by Hart, Victoria


  The king sat behind his desk and calmly said, “Yes you do. You’ve shown poor judgment and I don’t have time to monitor you. You don’t care what the public thinks of you, so I have called in a professional. Lady Willoughby will be in charge of your public relations, but I am also entrusting her with the task of babysitting you until I no longer hear stories of your gross misconduct in the news.”

  “I don’t have to agree to this. I don’t need this,” the prince declared.

  “You do have to agree to this. If you want to return to your yacht and continue the lifestyle that you’re used to, you’d better do as I say, for once.”

  “What? That’s it then, I have to clean up my act, stay out of the news, and you will let me have control of my life back?”

  “That is precisely what I am saying. Do you understand?”

  Eric glared at Astrid and answered, “Yes, Father, I understand.”

  He directed his attention to Astrid and said, “What exactly should I call you? My nanny, governess, or babysitter?”

  Astrid answered, “To be honest, I don’t give a crap what you call me, but I prefer to be addressed as Lady Willoughby, or Willoughby, if you prefer.”

  “No, I don’t prefer, not at all. Neither one of you have heard the last of this,” he said as he stormed out of the office.

  Astrid had been through this song and dance many times before and was unfazed by the prince’s behavior.

  The king looked concerned. “How do you think that went?”

  “Very well, Your Majesty. He didn’t break anything or take a swing at me, so I’d say we’re ahead of the game.”

  The king replied, “If you say so, Lady Willoughby.”

  “He’ll calm down; they always do. Now, about the yacht and his allowance…” said Astrid as she and the king began the business of transferring all control of the prince’s life to her capable hands. She had no doubt that the prince would come around, it was just a matter of time.

  * * *

  Astrid requested tea in her quarters that afternoon. Her meeting with the misbehaving heir to the throne of Rogandal had gone much better than she had expected. Typing details of the assets that rightfully belonged to Prince Eric into the spreadsheet on her laptop, she thought about Eric’s reaction to the news that his life and his finances were no longer under his direct control.

  Perhaps it was his age or his temperament, but aside from the usual backlash, he had reacted remarkably well. His behavior could almost be considered subdued. Astrid was experienced enough in these matters not to underestimate her charge’s ability to bounce back and cause mischief. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, her attention transfixed on the gently falling snow outside the window, thinking about the likely scenarios of retaliation available to the prince.

  If he reacted the way she expected him to, he might slip away with his friends in the middle if the night, under the assumption that he could outrun her and his responsibilities. Another possibility she considered was that he would bide his time and return to his old shenanigans the moment he was no longer under his father’s roof.

  There was also a third possibility – the unknown variable that she was always prepared for. With Eric being older and possibly much more resourceful, it was entirely possible she wouldn’t see it coming. But she was nimble; she would handle him. Her years of experience had taught her that there would be a backlash, it was just a matter of when and what.

  Smiling and shaking her head, she thought how silly it was that these spoiled royal adult children always blamed her for their circumstances, and not their parents. Were they too blinded by frustration to see that to her they were just a job, a task she was assigned by their royal parents? It was an undeniable fact; she was always seen as the villainess. Perhaps it was better that way, she mused, since these families needed to function smoothly after the unruly heir or heiress was brought firmly back into the royal fold.

  Returning to the pressing task of analyzing the prince’s assets and spending habits, she barely noticed a knock at the door. Without looking up from the laptop, she answered, believing it was the maid with tea. “Enter.”

  “I do hope I have not come at a bad time,” said a voice threaded with an aristocratic tone.

  Astrid looked up from her laptop and saw Eric’s sister, Princess Eirinia, standing in the doorway.

  “Your Highness, please come in.”

  “Thank you. We have been introduced, but I do not feel like we have truly become acquainted,” the cool blonde woman said as she walked closer to the fireplace.

  Astrid hit ‘save’ and closed the laptop, setting it aside. “Won’t you please sit down and join me; I have just requested tea.”

  “How kind of you. I will sit and visit with you for a moment; I do not intend to stay for long.”

  Astrid was relieved. She had no intention of divulging details of her position to the princess. It would be entirely at the king’s discretion if he chose to share the circumstances of her employment with his daughter. The princess had not been in the office during the interview or the meeting with her brother, so Astrid assumed she was not privy to the arrangement or the details of Astrid’s true purpose.

  The princess’s visit was not wholly unexpected. As next in the line of succession, it would have been unusual if the princess was not curious about any decision regarding her sibling – her rival. Perhaps in other houses, where the siblings were close and affectionate, that might not have been the case, but Astrid’s preliminary research confirmed that the royal siblings of Rogandal were neither happy, nor close.

  The maid knocked and brought in a tea tray loaded with a fresh pot of strong tea, cakes, sandwiches, and savory pies on a polished silver tea service. The princess and Astrid waited for the servant to leave before resuming their conversation.

  Although Astrid was aware of the princess’s intentions, she waited for the princess to speak first, to confirm her reasons for coming to meet with Astrid. Pouring tea for herself after the princess declined to take tea, Astrid waited patiently.

  “Lady Astrid Willoughby, your mother was a lady-in-waiting to my mother, is that correct?”

  “It is; she often speaks of her time as a lady-in-waiting with warm regard.”

  “And you, did you serve as lady-in-waiting to the royal family in England?”

  “No, Your Highness; my interests lay in other areas of study and pursuit.”

  The princess swept her long blonde hair back from her shoulder and smiled coolly as she looked at Astrid in a manner that some might refer to as intimidating. “If you are not a lady-in-waiting and you are noble born, I am at a loss to understand what your function will be in this household or at my brother’s disposal.”

  “Your brother will be taking on more responsibilities in the coming year, to prepare him for his duties as king. I have been placed in a public relations capacity as he assumes that role.”

  The princess smirked and said, “Public relations? Have you already accepted the position? My brother needs no assistance in public relations – he is already quite popular with the world press and social media. His antics are followed by thousands, perhaps millions.”

  Without hesitation, Astrid casually reached for a cheese sandwich and answered, “Yes, he has led the life of a young bachelor on the world stage, it is to be expected for a prince. His following of loyal fans, and a public hungry for any mention of him in social media will make my job so much easier. I consider myself fortunate in that regard. The hard part is already done for me, establishing a media presence.”

  “Oh, he has done just that. He has established a media presence alright, he’s an embarrassment.”

  Astrid smiled warmly. “Not to worry, I am sure those days have passed. The prince is handsome and the camera loves him; it won’t take long at all for his more rambunctious bachelor days to become ancient history.”

  The princess rose to leave. “I hope you understand my intentions in being so candid. My brother’s actions ar
e disgraceful and reflect poorly on this family and this country. Your job will not be as easy as you imagine. I must be going; I have interrupted your tea long enough. Have a good day.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness, for the words of advice. I will give them my fullest consideration.”

  The princess left Astrid to her tea, leaving behind only a trace scent of expensive perfume in the air and the chill of cool smugness. After only a few minutes’ conversation, Astrid had a crystal clear understanding as to why the king was willing to spend a small fortune to ensure that his son inherited the throne.

  The princess was not vile, or cruel in any obvious way that could be measured, but there was something – a quality that Astrid could not put her finger on – that fashioned her judgment of the woman. It may have been a gut instinct, but Astrid was not inclined to like the princess that the press had built up to be a modern-day Grace Kelly, a beautiful blonde princess living a luxurious fantasy.

  Shuddering at the steely unpleasantness of her royal companion, Astrid solemnly vowed to use every trick at her disposal to ensure that the stunning, revered blonde princess never ascended to the throne of Rogandal.

  Opening her laptop and returning to work, her heart went out to the king of this small island nation. He was charged with the unpleasant task of leaving his throne to one of his two children, neither a suitable candidate. His daughter had the warmth of an artic glacier and his son was a lush with intemperate habits. It was dilemma that Astrid had agreed to rectify – for a considerable sum.

  Gazing into the fire, she thought about the challenges she faced as she set about the task of changing a grown man, set in his scandalous ways at the age of thirty. She had a feeling that Prince Eric was going to make her earn every penny of her commission for this job.

  * * *

  Astrid chose not to dine with the family, although her contract dictated that an open invitation was extended by the king and queen. She chose, instead, to dine in her quarters. Her intention was not to avoid her responsibility but to give her charge, Prince Eric, time to either escape or accept the situation.

  Dining in her room also allowed her to remain out of the private affairs of the family. By maintaining her distance, she not only avoided the small dramas and tension-filled silences of a family undergoing turbulence, but she was able to define her own role on her own terms and not be defined by her charge or his relatives.

  In her role, she functioned as more than a staff member or employee; she also had an authority very much like a nanny would, and in some cases she became a confidante. She sometimes relied on this euphemism, as it often gave her charge a false sense of control of his or her own life.

  Dinner that evening was quiet and unremarkable in every way except for the delectable food. The chef and cooking staff at Hoburg Palace were incredibly gifted. Savoring each juicy morsel of the light dinner the chef had prepared just for her, she knew she would be hard pressed to find cuisine of that quality at any of the hotels she would be staying at in the following weeks.

  Browsing through the itinerary, she paused and read the details regarding the upcoming state visit to the Snow Blossom Festival in Kyoto. The king or queen would often send an ambassador or high-ranking noble from Rogandal to attend the festival in Japan. Several species of fish native to the waters of the Baltic were highly prized delicacies in Japan and the royal families of the two nations enjoyed an amicable relationship.

  The prince was not aware that his father was sending him to act as representative of the royal house of Gunborg at the festival this year. Astrid was no stranger to diplomatic protocol in Japan – she could only hope that Eric would take this trip seriously, but she was under no delusions. Finishing the last bites of the sumptuous chocolate torte, she savored the sweetness of the cake, knowing she was charged with the nearly impossible task of ensuring that Eric behaved while he was in Kyoto.

  Astrid retired early that evening and awoke the following morning prepared to address the challenge of becoming part of Prince’s Eric’s staff. After breakfast, she walked to the king’s office to meet with Eric after his father had broken the news of his official schedule for the upcoming months.

  To an heir allowed to have unlimited freedom and indulged beyond all reasonable expectation, the sudden responsibility of maintaining an official schedule of appearances and a rigorous social calendar could be a shock. Astrid was prepared for that and waited patiently for Eric to storm out of his father’s office once more. Standing by the official portrait of the current king of Rogandal, she did not fidget but remained calm and relaxed as she watched the door to the king’s office.

  Almost on cue, the door swung open and Eric appeared, red faced and indignant, cursing in his native tongue under his breath. Seeing Astrid, he turned his attention to her and vented his frustration. “I suppose this is all your doing?”

  “Your Highness? What is all my doing?”

  “This, all of this! Not only does my father want me to act like I am the heir to the throne but he intends to send me all over the world, acting like an ambassador or something. He has ambassadors and diplomats on his payroll for that – why should I have to attend every dinner, ball, or birthday party for the rest of the season?”

  “You are the heir and your father is grooming you for the throne.”

  Eric scowled at her as he turned to walk down the hall. “I hold you accountable.”

  Astrid was on his heels. “Hold me accountable? You are to be king; this will give you a taste of that.”

  Eric looked surprised that she was keeping pace with him as he strode angrily and purposefully down the stairs. “Aren’t you supposed to stay several steps behind me at all times?”

  Astrid smiled; he was attempting to exert dominance, just as expected. “Your Highness, I am well aware of the protocol and am maintaining the proper distance. Back to your itinerary. We leave for Kyoto in two days’ time; there are many details that will need addressing.”

  “No, there are no details I need to address. I have no intention of going to Kyoto; I am returning to my yacht.”

  “That will not be possible. Your yacht is in dry dock for maintenance and repairs.”

  Eric glared at her as he stopped on the landing of the grand staircase of the palace. “What have you done with Freja? Dry dock? Where is my boat? You have no right…” His voice trailed off into silence as he paced on the landing, fuming. Astrid remained motionless, waiting for the prince to process his new set of circumstances.

  Eric ran his hands through his hair. He looked at the floor and then turned once more to face her. “This is preposterous; I should march back in my father’s office and demand my yacht be given back to me.”

  “Your Highness, do you realize how ridiculous you sound? You are not a child and I have not taken away your favorite toy. However, if you would like to remind your father of your immaturity by throwing a temper tantrum in his office, I will accompany you. Shall we return together?”

  “Fine, but if there is a single scratch on her, anywhere, I will sue you.”

  “You can try. You won’t win, but I am certain you will find an attorney willing to take your money.”

  The prince walked towards hers and stopped only inches from her face. “You know what? Take my boat – I don’t care. I’ll just buy another one, or hire one.” The prince held his head up as he walked away from her.

  She permitted him to believe that he had won, for a moment. “No, you won’t be doing that either. If you would like to accompany me to the library, we can discuss the itinerary and the duties you will be expected to perform.”

  Eric stopped on the steps, and grasping the railing in a death grip, he did not face her but said, “I am not going to Japan.”

  “Very well. You have the following options, attend the Snow Blossom Festival in Japan or stay here under your parents’ watchful eye. You are free to choose.”

  “I told you,” he said as he marched back down the stairs, “I will be returning to Tha
iland, even if I have to hire a boat.”

  “Eric, you are making this far harder on yourself than it has to be.”

  “It’s ‘Your Highness’ to you. I don’t have to stay here and take this insolence any longer.”

  “That is within your rights, but you will soon run out of options without any money to spend.”

  “Now what?” he demanded in an increasingly loud voice.

  “Your Highness, unless you would like to announce your situation to the staff and any visitors to the palace, I suggest you accompany me to the library where we may speak about these matters in private. Of course, it doesn’t matter to me. You may prefer your personal business to be the subject of servants’ gossip.”

  Without waiting for a response, Astrid walked past Eric and glided down the stairs, knowing full well that he would be tempted to push her down the remaining flight. She did not flinch or glance back as she entered the library.

  * * *

  The library door slammed shut and Astrid did not react. She sat on the couch by the fireplace and waited for Eric to join her. Slumping on the matching couch across from Astrid, he laid his head back and stared at the ceiling.

  “Why are you doing this? I was happy before you came along. Now, everything is changed and you want me to be like my father.”

  “It’s not about me,” she answered in an even tone of voice.

  He faced her. “Then what is it? I don’t want to be king, but my sister wants to be queen so bad she can taste it. I want her to have it. There, it’s settled – what papers do I need to sign so I can have Freja back and be left alone with an annuity?”

  “Prince Eric, tell me, what makes you think you deserve an annuity? You are thirty years old and have not done a single thing to earn a salary. That statement may be inaccurate – if so I invite you to correct me. Tell me, what have you done for your king and country to earn even one shilling of pay?”

  Astrid was astonished at the wintry blue color of the prince’s eyes, especially when he glared at her in anger, which was all he ever seemed to do.

 

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