Taming the Rebel Prince: The Royals of Rogandal

by Hart, Victoria

  Eric’s voice, which once held her in fascination, now only caused her pain. She held herself carefully together, focused on hiding her hurt feelings. Only a few more days, and then she could be on her way.

  She was absorbed in her own thoughts and did not hear Eric addressing her. “Willoughby, isn’t that extraordinary?” he asked.

  Astrid turned her attention to the two men. “I apologize, gentlemen; I wasn’t listening. Please repeat this extraordinary piece of information.”

  Gunter cleared his throat as the waiter brought the first course, and silence hung over the table until they were alone. Gunter continued, “I was just telling Eric that his sister is not only interested in becoming the next ruler of Rogandal, but I would say she’s obsessed.” Red in the face, he ducked his chin and Astrid had to strain to hear him continue. “She paid me double what I was making as a bodyguard, and all I had to do was keep her posted about your activities, take a few photos, and that sort of thing.”

  Eric sighed, and shook his head. When his eyes met Astrid’s, his expression was grave, but he did not accuse his former friend. “I knew she wanted to be queen, I just never knew she was willing to take it that far. That’s unbelievable.”

  Astrid frowned and huffed. “Believe it, Your Highness.” She turned to Gunter. “This is your big revelation? It’s old news. Why are you coming to us with this?”

  “Willoughby, please be nice,” Eric said with a smile. “Are you quite yourself?”

  “Of course, I only want to know what Gunter is thinking.”

  “I am moved by loyalty, Lady Willoughby. I felt terrible taking that money and then leaving when things turned out badly after the race.”

  “How sweet! You’ve suddenly developed a conscience. Why is that, I wonder? Or should I ask who is paying you now, and what they are paying you for? To try to get back into Eric’s good graces, so you can sell more stories to the press?”

  Eric glared at Astrid. “Be reasonable.”

  “I am being perfectly reasonable. Go ahead, Gunter, I’m waiting for an answer. Eric doesn’t ask because he is a naïve fool, but I represent his father, who is not.”

  Eric’s face turned red, but he nodded to his friend. “Go ahead, Gunter, tell us both. Why this sudden attack of conscience?”

  “Your Highness, I don’t want to be exiled from the court at Rogandal, and I don’t want your sister to be queen. You may have been a drunk and acted irresponsibly, but at least you have a heart – that one is as cold as ice. She doesn’t care for the people of the country. She sees them as peasants, and treats them that way, too.”

  “Touching. That was a really touching performance. Now, what information do you have that is worth our time?” asked Astrid.

  “It’s about the princess,” said Gunter.

  Astrid was losing patience. “We know all about her already. She is greedy, horrible, and she paid you to betray her brother. Is there something else?”

  “I was not the only one who was working for her, or allied with her, whatever you want to call it. I happen to know that she is secretly engaged.”

  Eric’s eyes grew wide, and he glanced at Astrid. “Engaged? She can’t be engaged without my father’s permission.”

  “That may be, but I tell you she is engaged, and it is her fiancé who has been helping her spread gossip about you at court and in all the papers. He even managed to drop you into this fiasco.”

  Astrid realized who Gunter was referring to a split second before Eric did. “It’s Ben. Isn’t it? Ben thinks he is going to marry her and become the next king of Rogandal. Not bad for a duke, to step up into the monarchy.”

  “Ben!!! How long have you known about this?” Eric demanded.

  “I found out after the accident. But she and Ben have been engaged for a long time. How long, I don’t know.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Eric muttered.

  “Your Highness, I regret that it is true. Ben doesn’t care for your country or your sister, he only wants to be king. His title, Duke of Gothland, doesn’t mean much in the world and he was never one for hard work.”

  “Traitor,” said Eric. “That accident was no accident, was it, Gunter? It was a set-up. Tell me the truth, were you in on it? How much did my sister pay you to help ruin everything?”

  “She didn’t pay me. I suspected something was amiss when you took responsibility, but I swear to you, Eric, I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Someone could have been killed just to make me look guilty, are you aware of that?” Eric stood and threw his napkin down.

  “I know, Eric, and I couldn’t live with it any more. I just couldn’t. I’m as shocked as you about Ben – we were all so close, like brothers. It sickens me to think that Ben was never anyone’s friend, and he was just there trying to make sure your sister became queen. Please, accept my apology. If I can help you I will, just tell me what to do.”

  Eric stood at the window, silent.

  Astrid responded, “Gunter, you can help us, but you’ll have to choose sides. If you help Eric, you’ll make an enemy of the princess. If you stay loyal to her, you’ll have chosen to help a monarch who relies on corruption and plotting to rule. That’s not what you want?”

  “No, it isn’t.” Gunter said, looking ashamed.

  “If you help Eric, I can’t promise you’ll be admitted back to court, but I will present your case to the king.”

  “Thank you, it’s a start. What do you need me to do?”

  Eric sat back down at the dinner table, staring stone-faced into his dinner, while Astrid outlined what she required of Gunter. She had no illusion that she could trust him, but if she could rely on him for a week and a half, she didn’t care what he did after she left the court of Rogandal.

  * * *

  Astrid and Eric rode back to the hotel together in the limousine, the silence between them as thick and awkward as it was on the trip back from Kyoto. Astrid could not look at Eric. It was heartbreaking to gaze at his face, to be close to him, and know her feelings for him were not reciprocated. When she did glance up from her phone, his gaze was transfixed on the houses that seemed to zoom by the car window.

  No longer certain that she could share the same suite with a man who would never care for her, Astrid thought about calling the hotel manager and arranging a separate room for her private use. Unfortunately, she recognized that leaving the prince unsupervised for any length of time invited trouble, especially with the timer ticking away on the week and half deadline.

  Astrid needed to speak with him, but she understood that was not the night for a conversation. He needed some space. He was due in court the following day and Astrid had several emergency phone calls to make. The information regarding Ben’s involvement with Eirinia was unsubstantiated, but the prince taking the blame for the accident Ben caused was something she could work with.

  When the limousine arrived at the hotel, she hastily climbed out, the prince slowly emerging behind her. Impatient to get to work, she watched with frustration as he turned to walk into the hotel lounge.

  “Your Highness, we can send out for room service. Your court appearance is tomorrow and you shouldn’t be seen at a bar, drinking and relaxing right now. Until we get a few things cleared up, I suggest you keep a low profile.”

  “I don’t want to sit in my room and drink – that’s boring. I want to go in here, where there are people, and have a drink. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Astrid rolled her eyes. The Prince Eric she’d first met – the one she loathed – was back and bristling with attitude. Well-dressed guests of the hotel walked past Astrid and Eric as they stood in the lobby. Astrid was aware that the prince was on the verge of causing a scene, throwing a temper tantrum like a child. She calmly said, “Look, you can behave for one damn night, can’t you? What is wrong with you? I am going to tell you once more, come with me, or kiss your boat goodbye.”

  Eric met her words with a glare. “You can’t do that.”

  “Ye
s, I can. Eric, I am in no mood to discuss this out here in the lobby. Come back to the suite and you can say anything you like, but if you stay here and act in any way that makes the papers, your boat is history.”

  “You can bet I am going to say what I like. Come on,” he said, as he turned away from the lounge.

  Back in the suite, Eric slammed the door. He punched in the number for room service and ordered a bottle of their finest single malt. Astrid did not have time for his antics; there were several phone calls she had to make.

  “Eric, stay here and have a drink, I don’t care – but I have to make some phone calls right away,” she said, walking towards her bedroom.

  “Where do you think you’re going? I find out that my best friend is engaged to that evil viper that is my sister, that he set me up, knowing I would be loyal to him. You treat me like I am idiot at dinner, and you think I’m just going to be quiet?”

  “Eric, I don’t care what you do, not anymore. I thought I cared, I thought you wanted to change, to be the man I saw for the past few days, but you don’t. You are a self-centered, arrogant person who deserves every world of bad press – and you deserve to lose your crown.”

  “You thought you cared? What does that mean?”

  “I don’t have time for this. Do the math. Your father gave up on you, did you know that? He was perfectly prepared to leave you here, rotting in some jail. I came to save you. I called people I knew and I did everything I could to help you, and you can’t even be a decent person for a few days at my request?”

  “You didn’t have to, you know that. You didn’t have to try to save me.”

  Astrid no longer cared what she said. She was furious and hurt – a dangerous combination. “Listen to me. Your father has plans to make your sister queen. That means your sister and her husband Ben will rule Rogandal, a throne that should rightfully belong to you. He makes his announcement in a week and a half. That’s all the time you have – just a week and half. Do you understand? Let that sink into that royal head of yours.”

  “I didn’t know that, I thought you said…my father gave up on me? What happened to change that?”

  “What do you think happened? I happened! I pleaded with him to give you one more chance. But I clearly understand you don’t deserve it, and after I see you safely in the line of succession, I don’t care if I ever see you again for the rest of my life. You are not the man I thought you were. You don’t deserve my help, but I will do this for your people.”

  Eric stood staring at Astrid, and when he spoke, his words were slow and cautious. “You pleaded with him?”

  “Yes, I did. You think you know what loyalty means, but you don’t know what loyalty means, or what taking responsibility means, none of it. I could have just cut my losses. Your father is paying me, yes, that’s true, but I don’t need the money! I’m only here with you now because I intend to see this through for the citizens of your nation, not for you, not any longer. One more temper tantrum from you, and I promise you I will be gone – but not before repaying Prince Fayed with your boat, which your father transferred to my possession, actually. It is no longer yours. Now, unless you have anything relevant to add, I have to make several phone calls pertinent to your court case tomorrow. Are we done?”

  Eric said, “You promised me you would never look at me that way again, with disgust, and here you are staring at me as though you despise me.”

  “Eric, I don’t give a damn about promises to you. If you want someone to put up with your whining and self-pity, call that attorney, her name is Cordelia. Call half a dozen other girls, do what you want, I no longer care. All I demand from you is that you behave for a week and half, then you get your boat back, the crown, all of it – and I can go home.”

  Astrid turned and walked into her bedroom, letting the door slam behind her.

  Chapter 10

  Eric’s first court appearance was scheduled for ten that morning. The press was gathered outside the small courthouse, where the Australian millionaire Bruno Klapner was holding court to the press, but the limousine driver expertly avoided them. Astrid and Eric were met at a back door by the attorney, Sir Jay Sherrington.

  Nodding to Eric, the lawyer spoke to Astrid as they carefully negotiated the back stairs to avoid reporters. “Lady Willoughby, I received the evidence this morning and I will make a motion to submit it. That Australian won’t like it, but he can go to the devil, for all I care. Brilliant play, I must tell you. Perhaps you may want to consider a position as a detective when you are through with your obligation to Rogandal.”

  “I have considered a change of career when this is at an end. Do you believe we can get this settled today? Is that even possible?”

  “My lady, with the new evidence and witness statements, it is more than possible – I would nearly bet on it.”

  Eric suddenly seemed interested in the conversation. “What are you talking about, Sherrington?”

  “Your Highness, you are a lucky man to have this lady working for you. I would not want her to be my enemy, her or her father,” the attorney said with a smile to Astrid as the bailiff opened the door to the hall leading to the courtroom. It was filled to capacity with reporters and camera crews.

  The bailiff pushed through the crowd of press. The attorney refused to comment and Eric smiled for the reporters, while Astrid kept her head down. The glare of the lights and the constant pushing of the reporters trying to get a comment on record was a necessary evil. She didn’t have anything to say to them now, but she hoped that would change when they left the courtroom later in the day.

  The bailiff led Eric and the attorney to a polished wood table at the front of the courtroom. Astrid sat behind Eric on a wooden bench, giving her a front row seat to the proceedings. Tall windows filtered the soft morning light, fans spun lazily overhead, and a mural of the bounty of Grenada was painted in muted colors on the ceiling. Eric turned and waved at Cordelia, who sat nearby, as a member of his defense team.

  Cameras were not allowed into the courtroom, but a large number of reporters filled the back benches. The front benches were crowded with many members of the sailing community, and the British aristocracy. She realized that this was the trial of the season, and sure to be the most exciting event happening on the island that morning. Everybody was curious.

  Astrid stared straight ahead and waited for the judge to appear, but before he came into the courtroom, Bruno Klapner and his famous team of attorneys arrived, to cheers from the press. He was well liked, handsome, and always at the center of the excitement. He waved to the reporters like the celebrity he was and took his place at the opposite table.

  The bailiff announced the arrival of the judge. The court rose and the courtroom fell silent. The only sound that could be heard was the shuffling of papers on the judge’s podium.

  As soon as the proceedings began, Sir Jay Sherrington motioned to approach the bench. The judge removed his glasses and nodded. “You may approach the bench,” he said drily.

  Sherrington walked confidently to the bench and spoke quietly with the judge, his words not audible to anyone else in the courtroom. The judge seemed to be listening carefully, and after a few moments he said, “If you have that evidence available, I will need to examine it in my chambers. We will take a short recess.”

  As the gavel slammed down on the podium, Sherrington calmly reached for his briefcase and with a quick wink to Astrid, followed the judge out of the courtroom. A wave of excitement broke over the press and the citizens. Bruno Klapner turned bright red and began whispering frantically to his small army of attorneys. From the angered expression on his face and the stricken expressions on his attorneys’ faces, Astrid was certain they were not prepared for what Sherrington had in his briefcase.

  Eric leaned close to her and whispered, “What is going on, if you care to tell me?”

  “Ask Cordelia; she’s on your defense team. Maybe she knows what’s happening?”

  “I doubt it. She isn’t that bright.�
�

  “Pity, but then, you don’t care about that anyway. As you said, she’s an attractive lady.”

  Astrid focused her attention on the door leading to the judge’s chambers. She was calm on the outside, but inside she was a nervous wreck. She hoped what she gave Sherrington would be enough to change the course of the case. If she could catch a break in this Grenada business, she’d be well on her way to succeeding in her mission.

  The sound of girlish giggling caught her attention, and she turned to see Cordelia and Eric laughing and flirting in the courtroom, in full view of the press. She spoke through gritted teeth. “Your Highness, may I remind you that you are the subject of close scrutiny from the press corps at this very moment?”

  Eric returned his attention to Astrid as Cordelia sat back down on the bench, at the opposite end from Astrid. “Can’t I have any fun? It’s my head on the block, not yours.”

  “You can move to Grenada and have all the fun you want after next week, but right now, act like the future King of Rogandal, will you?”

  “Yes ma’am. Or perhaps I should call you sir, since you sound like a drill sergeant.”

  “I don’t care what you call me, just don’t embarrass me again.”

  Before Eric could answer, the judge and Sherrington returned to the courtroom. The air was filled with energy and excitement, and Astrid glanced at Sherrington but his expression gave nothing away. He placed his briefcase on the table and stood beside his client. The court rose and at the sound of the gavel, silence once again descended on the courtroom.

  The judge announced, “Counsel, please approach the bench.”

  Sherrington and the lead attorney for Bruno Klapner walked to the front of the courtroom. The conversation was not clear, but from the body language, Astrid could read that Klapner’s attorney was furious. His face turned a dark red tone to match the color of his tie, his mouth a thin frown. By comparison, Sherrington looked as comfortable as a man relaxing in his favorite armchair.