Taming the Rebel Prince: The Royals of Rogandal

by Hart, Victoria

  “That doesn’t matter, not to me. Why can’t you let us happen, to see what would become of us, what we could be?”

  Astrid stared into his eyes and thought of Princes Serena and Cordelia, of the beautiful women who would be a constant threat to her peace of mind. If she didn’t lose Eric to the laws governing who he should marry, then she was certain she would lose him to a beautiful woman one day. As much as she wished it was different, she didn’t see a future of wedded bliss with Eric. She only saw heartbreak.

  “I wish I shared your optimism, but I’m a realist, and you have to be, too. You will wed a princess one day, or leave me when you’ve grown tired of me. I’ve seen it already – just last night you were unable to tear yourself away from Serena, not even for a moment.”

  Eric stood and walked to the fireplace, where a small fire was burning despite the warm temperature in the suite. He picked up the poker and moved the logs, his attention on the fire and not on answering Astrid’s accusation. Astrid watched him, looking for any sign that she was wrong, that her jealousy was misplaced. She wanted to believe that she’d misread his actions. She took his silence as an admission.

  Rising from the settee, she turned to walk back to her bedroom. She was stopped when Eric caught her arm and pulled her back down beside him. “You encouraged me – you suggested that being seen with a woman like Serena would help me in the press, just like with that woman in Grenada.”

  “Are you blaming me?”

  “Yes! I want to be photographed at your side, hand in hand, smiling and laughing – but you insist that’s not possible. Now you’re angry with me for being photographed with a beautiful woman, a woman who doesn’t push me away and tell me why we would never work, a woman who smiles every time I see her.”

  “Is that what you want, a woman who smiles, who makes you feel good, and looks good for the photographers? I saw those pictures from last night. You can tell yourself what you want, but that was no act. You may tell yourself that you want me to give us a chance, to…to find out what we could be, but I can see my life would be full of sorrow.”

  “That’s not what I meant, not at all! You won’t give me a chance. You’ve already made up your mind that we’re over before we’ve begun, that we’re a lost cause. Astrid, I am falling in love with you. Serena tells me what I want to hear, but you tell me how you feel. You are honest and infuriating, and I don’t want to live without you.”

  Astrid shook her head. “Eric, you’re going to break my heart, I know it. I see it in your eyes, not now, but soon you’ll be the reason I will never love again. If I give you a chance, I’ll regret it.”

  “What if I promised you that you would never regret it?”

  “You can’t. Neither of us knows what the future holds,” Astrid said as she looked away from his intense gaze.

  Eric touched Astrid’s cheek as tears fell from her eyes. He turned her face to his. “No one knows what the future holds. If I was a doctor and not a prince, I could only make you the same promise, that I will do all that is in my power not to hurt you. You and I are in an intolerable situation. If I thought for even a second that our future depended on my giving up the throne, I would abdicate in favor of my sister.”

  Astrid touched his hand, her response swift, “No, Eric I will not allow that. If you only knew what kind of person your sister truly was, you would know that you are the only choice for Rogandal.”

  “What do you mean? I know her – she’s capable of just about anything. Is there something you’re not telling me about Eirinia?”

  “Yes, but it’s not important right now. You have to be king, and I have to accept that. We both do.”

  “No. I won’t let you use that as an excuse to deny us any chance, Astrid. Tell me about my sister, but first, promise me that you won’t throw away our chance together. I know you and I are not innocent, that this is not our first love affair. We’ve both tasted heartbreak, but you can’t let that keep you from trusting me, from letting me love you.”

  Astrid had not thought of Eric’s disastrous relationship with Claudine, that he too knew what it was like to experience emotional devastation. “Eric, have you been in love since Claudine?”

  “No. I haven’t allowed myself to fall in love with another woman since what happened with her and my father – that is, until I met you. I should be the one unable to trust you; you work for my father and talk with him regularly. You’re beautiful, and intelligent, and I should be the one who is jealous.”

  “Well, you have my word that I don’t see your father as anything but an employer. I was in love once many years ago, and I promised myself never to make that mistake again.”

  “Can you keep that promise? Or do you find yourself, like me, falling in love with no hope of stopping it?”

  “I’ve tried, and I can’t fight this anymore,” she confessed as Eric leaned closer, his hand gently tilting her face to meet his as he kissed her. It was the first time he had kissed her since Grenada, and all their emotions poured out in this passionate kiss, his lips moving from her lips to her neck, her hands pulling his shirt from his body.

  Astrid’s pulse raced as she felt Eric’s lips on the bare skin of her throat, her own hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. A moan of pleasure escaped her lips as his fingers swept her hair back from her face, his lips on hers.

  A knock on the door of the suite brought Astrid back to reality. She abruptly stood up, looking at her watch. “Eric, it’s time for your interview. Hurry, you have to get dressed!”

  Eric jumped from the settee, stopping long enough to kiss her once more before running into his room. Astrid smoothed her hair into place, and arranged her clothes before she answered the door. It was the butler.

  “My Lady, His Highness’s appointment has arrived, Madame Gasteau from the Parisian Press.”

  “Yes, thank you. Please escort her to the salon, and bring tea.”

  “Very well, My Lady.”

  Astrid hurried to her bedroom. Opening the closet, she frantically searched for anything to wear in a rush. Dressing in a button-down shirt and tailored pants with low heels, her hair in a chic pony tail, she added a quick swipe of lipstick. Content with her appearance, she took a deep breath. She could still feel Eric’s lips on her neck as she greeted the reporter.

  * * *

  Astrid sat quietly off camera as Eric was interviewed by the glamorous Madame Elia Gasteau. The reporter asked Eric about his past, his drinking, and this new way of living he had adopted since his unfortunate incarceration. Eric answered the questions with ease, laughing and relaxed. To Astrid, he looked as comfortable in front of the camera as a movie star, a fact that was not lost on Madame Gasteau.

  “If you were not a prince, perhaps a career in television or the stage would suit you, Your Highness,” purred the reporter as she tossed her perfectly coifed brunette curls.

  “I would only want to be a celebrity if I could use my talent for the good of others. I’ve been born into privilege, and it is my view – my belief – that people such as myself should do all we can do alleviate suffering in the world.”

  “Well said. Your heart matches your handsome exterior, does it not? In matters of the heart, it has been rumored that you are in love with Her Highness Princess Serena Razia. Your family has a penchant for quiet engagements, no? Is your engagement to Serena secret?”

  Eric brushed a lock of blond hair back from his face as he answered, “Madame, if it was secret, it is no longer. No, I have promised that I would not discuss any details. As you say, I do not like to kiss and tell.”

  The reporter leaned closer to Eric, playfully asking, “Your Highness, that is not an answer! Are you and Serena in love? The world wants to know.”

  Eric looked into the camera, and with a voice as sweet as honey, he said, “I promise to tell each and every one of you when I am at liberty to discuss my romantic life. I will not keep it a secret.”

  Astrid breathed a sigh of relief that the interview was g
oing as planned. Eric answered the questions with the perfect combination of flirtation and intelligence, and the reporter was asking questions he was prepared to answer. If this interview was well received, it would cast Eric in a positive light.

  Astrid listened to Eric, watching how he moved. He was so confident, at ease in his own skin. Now that he had embraced the role of future king, he seemed to relish it. It troubled her to think how quickly he would give it up for her – troubled her and flattered her. She could not allow him to consider the possibility. Rogandal needed him, a good man, to lead his people.

  When Eric discussed helping others – the charitable side of his royal responsibilities – she knew he was not acting, and he truly wanted to help. His nature was giving and loyal, and even though he had led a life that seemed selfish, that was not who he was, not in his heart. She’d seen how quickly he had taken responsibility for his friend Ben’s crimes and she knew he would do the same for any person or cause he believed in. It was a dangerous world she had entered – a love affair with a man willing to give up everything for her. Could she trust him? Did he mean it, or was he using his charm to win her over?

  The interview ended, and Eric and the reporter spoke off-camera. Astrid joined the conversation, aware that until the reporter left the suite, they were still being observed. Madame Gasteau thanked Eric for the exclusive interview. She promised to treat him favorably and edit it to be flattering if he assured her she would be the first to know when he announced his engagement.

  Eric promised her that she would be the first to know if there were any announcements to be made about the princess, but he looked past the reporter and gazed at Astrid.

  The reporter turned to look at Astrid, her eyes following Eric’s. For a moment, Astrid was anxious that Eric had made a mistake by allowing himself to be observed noticing her. She stood, expressionless as the reporter gazed at her with a quizzical look on her face, her expression unreadable.

  “Lady Willoughby, I have you to thank for arranging this interview. I see how the prince defers to you. Perhaps as you are his press secretary, I should be speaking with you regarding future interviews and exclusive access to the prince.”

  Astrid was relieved that the reporter assumed that Eric’s gaze was not romantic. “Madame, you have my word that you will have the exclusive rights to any developments between His Highness and the princess, providing that you present this interview and His Highness in a positive light.”

  The reporter narrowed her eyes. “I have my journalistic integrity to consider, do I not?”

  “Yes, you do, and I have complete control of who His Highness speaks to in the press. When there is an announcement about any engagement, every news agency around the globe will be clamoring to break the story, to share the intimate details with their readers. I do hope you will have the exclusive rights to that interview.”

  Madame Gateau’s expression transformed into a pleasant smile. “I see we have come to an arrangement. You may be assured that the prince will be the dream of every woman in France when I have presented this interview.”

  “When will it air? I do want to see it.”

  “Tonight. A story like this will not wait.”

  “Very good. Thank you, Madame. We will be in touch.”

  With the reporter and her camera crew safely out of the suite, Astrid called for the valet and the lady’s maid. They had a press conference scheduled in less than an hour and then the art gallery opening. She wanted to look professional and Eric need to look polished and fashionable.

  Eric whispered to her as the valet arrived. “Astrid, I meant what I said. I will give all of this up if you say the word.”

  “Your Highness, I will never allow that. Your valet has arrived, and it is time to get ready for the press conference.”

  Under the valet’s expert assistance, Eric’s hair was styled and his suit pressed, and he donned his tie and watch, a reflection of the latest trend in men’s fashion. Astrid’s hair was pulled back in a chignon at the nape of her neck, and she wore a crisp white blouse and a black pencil skirt. Pumps created a stylish, yet practical, ensemble.

  Accompanied by bodyguards, they arrived at a small ballroom on the first floor of the hotel, and were escorted inside. There was no one in attendance. Astrid wondered if she had made a scheduling error as the hotel manager rushed to join them.

  “Your Highness, my sincere apologies, but this room proved to be too small for the needs of your guests. They are assembled in the grand ballroom. If you will allow me to escort you,” he said, as he bowed his head.

  “Yes, please.” Astrid and Eric followed the man across the lobby while guests of the hotel pointed and whispered, cameras recording their every step.

  “We could not fit any more reporters into the small ballroom. I hope you understand.”

  Astrid smiled. The prince was far more popular than she had imagined. The manager showed them into the press conference as reporters and cameraman pushed each other to get as close as they could, each hoping to catch his eye, all hoping he would grant them the privilege of answering their question.

  The prince took his place at the table, seated beside Astrid as she spoke to the reporters.

  “His Highness, Prince Eric of Rogandal, would like to thank every one of you for coming today. He will try to answer your questions, one at time, staring with the BBC.”

  Astrid sat in her chair, calm, attentive and looking for any hint of trouble. This was the first time Eric had conducted a press conference. It was being recorded and streamed across the internet to dozens of countries. If Eric succeeded here, the publicity he was sure to gain would leave the king with no other choice but to name him the successor.

  The questions from the reporters were predictable. They asked about his past, his years spent misbehaving with the world watching, and his relationship with the people of Rogandal. They wanted to know about Princess Serena. At the mention of her name, the room erupted into cacophony of questions, everyone wanting to know about the princess. If she wasn’t made physically ill by the thoughts of Eric with Serena, Astrid would have suggested that he spend more time with the exotic beauty, just for the press coverage.

  The press peppered Eric with question after question about Serena. They wanted to know how they met, how long they had been dating each other, and when they were going to announce a date. Eric answered each question, evading the truth, teasing the press. To Astrid’s dismay, it was working. The press was spinning fairy tales from each of his answers, the news feed going wild with conclusions and deductions from the shreds of information he provided.

  Astrid glanced at her phone as Eric answered a question posed by a Jordanian news agency about his intentions towards their princess. A news story was breaking from a famous Swedish tabloid about his sister. Not wanting to give the press a chance to ask Eric about Eirinia, she quickly wrapped up the conference.

  The bodyguards escorted Eric out of the ballroom as a reporter stepped in front of him, a cameraman at his side.

  “Your Highness, what do you have to say about your sister? Is it true that your former associate, the Duke of Gothland, forced her into the engagement?”

  It was the moment Astrid had been trying to avoid. She stepped in front of the prince to answer the question. “His Highness does not wish to discuss his sister’s involvement with the duke. It is a sensitive family issue and he asks for privacy concerning this matter, thank you.”

  Astrid guided the prince out of the ballroom to the waiting limousine, the press at their heels. As the limousine drove away from the hotel, Astrid hurriedly scrolled though her phone. Eric was the big story, but Eirinia was commanding some press time with her interview. Astrid quickly read the breaking news and sighed.

  “What happened in there? What did he mean about Eirinia?”

  “Your sister has decided to fight back. I knew she would – she’s not going down quietly.”

  “Fight back? How?”

  “She’s smart, I’l
l give her that. She is playing the victim card. I don’t have all the details, but according this report, she sat down with a Swedish reporter and poured her heart out. She claims that Ben bullied her into accepting him as her fiancé. He threatened to harm her and blackmail you if she didn’t agree to marry him. She claims Ben was responsible for all the bad press you received all these years.”

  Eric stared at Astrid, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous, to even suggest that it was all Ben’s fault. Ben was never that smart, but I know her – she’s conniving, manipulative, and will stop at nothing to get what she wants. I almost feel sorry for old Ben. Now he’s stuck in jail in Grenada, taking the blame for all of her schemes.”

  Astrid was unsympathetic. “We can only wait to see how well her story is received in the press, and most importantly, by your father.”

  “I can’t believe it. If only there was a way to show the world who she is, the real woman, and not the fairy princess everyone believes her to be. All my life she managed to dodge the blame for every evil thing she ever did.”

  Astrid listened to the frustration in Eric’s voice and thought about the story that would ruin the princess’s sterling reputation forever. “Eric, how badly do you want the throne? How badly do you want to see your sister ruined in the eyes of the world?”

  “I don’t know. This isn’t easy. Before I met you, I knew what I was doing with my life, or what was left of it. I had three friends I could drink with, a sailboat I adored, and I did what I pleased. No love, no responsibility, nothing – I was a failure. All that has changed. I want to love you, to be with you, but at the same time, I’m torn. My sister should never be queen of Rogandal, that is my right. If I fight for the throne, I risk alienating my family but winning the hearts of the people. If I become king, I risk losing more than that – I risk losing you, and sitting on my throne in a loveless marriage.”

  Astrid recognized the battle raging inside Eric, it was a battle she had witnessed before, the same battle Ahmed fought before she convinced him to choose his throne and his people instead of her. Sitting beside Eric, she was in the same position again. Should she convince him to fight for his throne or leave it all behind?