“But…your people. They want their prince.”
“If only it was that easy, but it’s in the hands of my father.”
“Well, it looks like your people are voicing their opinion of the matter loud and clear,” Astrid said as the limousine arrived at the gates of the palace.
Well-wishers and members of the press stood in front of the gates of the palace, cheering as the motorcade passed them. It was a historic day for Rogandal, a day that each citizen wanted to be a part of, as Eric and Astrid soon discovered.
* * *
Astrid nervously eyed the additional security detail as the motorcade arrived at the palace. The reception of the people was warmer than anything she had expected, but the presence of additional armed guard led her to believe that the king was not so enamored with the idea of his son marrying her or defying his orders.
Footmen opened the doors of the palace as Eric and Astrid stood at the doorway. Eric looked over at her. “Are you ready?”
“I am. And remember, we can be back on Freja by tomorrow morning,” she said.
“Yes, we can,” he said with a smile as they walked into the palace.
The queen was the first to greet them.
“Eric, Lady Willoughby, I welcome both of you home, and I offer my sincere congratulations to you.” She hugged Eric and then Astrid. “Your mother was a good friend; I could not be more pleased that Eric has chosen you for a bride.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I am honored to be joining your family.”
“The honor is ours, and the people share my enthusiasm. I released a statement after your interview appeared on television last night, expressing my joy and optimism for the future of our country.”
“Mother, that was unexpected. Thank you,” replied Eric.
“Your father is anxious to speak with you both; he is in his office. After you have met with him, you must have tea with me in the garden, there is much to discuss. We have a wedding to plan,” she said cheerfully.
Eric and Astrid looked at each other. Neither spoke as they walked hand in hand to the king’s office. Astrid took a deep breath as a footman announced them; this was going to be the real test, the reaction of the king.
“Come in.” The king sat at his deck, his expression the polar opposite of the queen’s. “Sit down,” he ordered.
Astrid and Eric sat down, and for a moment the room was silent.
“I am disgusted to look at both of you, disgusted. Eric, you have singlehandedly ruined my plans for our economic growth and Lady Willoughby, you are an opportunist of the worst sort.”
Eric stood, his face red with anger. “Say what you want to me, but don’t you dare speak to her in that manner.”
“Eric, it doesn’t matter what I think, not anymore. The world is in love with you and your choice of a wife. The palace has been inundated with requests for interviews and invitations to your wedding. Every government in the world wants to send someone to the wedding, to be part of this travesty.”
“Your Majesty,” Astrid began to speak, but the king quickly interrupted her.
“You are quite clever, aren’t you? Turning the tide of public opinion to suit your own purposes. You convince my son to defy my orders to marry Serena, and then you find a way to wind up famous in all the papers as his fiancée. Lady Willoughby, you may have won this round, but do not underestimate me. I cannot prevent Eric from becoming the next king of Rogandal. The people and the world demand it with their approval – if I left him out it would lead to riots and anarchy. You promised me that he would be king, but you didn’t tell me you were going to make yourself queen in the process,” he hissed.
“Father, I demand that you apologize to Astrid. She’s going to be my wife.”
“Wife? You could have married a woman of class and worth, a princess, but you chose this commoner. So be it, you shall have your apology, your royal wedding, and your succession. May it bring you no peace.”
“That’s it, we don’t have to listen to your abuse, not anymore,” said Eric as he held out his hand to Astrid.
“Eric, you will be king,” Astrid said softly.
Eric met her eye. “And together we can rule this kingdom for the good of the people.”
Astrid turned to the king. “Your Majesty, your words are meaningless to me, but you’ve chosen wisely. Your son will be the best king this country has ever seen. You may despise me, but you’ve made the right decision.”
The king’s fist crashed onto the desk, and Astrid jumped. “I’ve made the only decision available to me! You may have forced my hand this time, but I do not forgive easily. Enjoy your few minutes of fame, Lady Willoughby, and your royal wedding. There is a dinner this evening and a press conference scheduled for tomorrow morning. I expect all of us to appear as if this was a cause for celebration.”
“Father, it is. This is a cause for celebration. We want to be married as soon as we can. If you don’t approve, we can elope to Paris.”
The king shook his head. “The people expect a royal wedding, and a royal wedding is what you will give them. Spend what you like but be quick about it. Now get out of my office.”
* * *
The meeting with the king had been a disaster, but tea with the queen went well. Astrid and Eric tried to convince her to keep the wedding simple. The queen had other ideas – the traditions of the royal family had to be upheld even if they were going to be married quickly, as Eric requested. There were dinners to plan, a reception to arrange, security and hotels for visiting foreign dignitaries – it was a daunting task and one that the queen seemed enthusiastic to take on.
After the tea, Astrid walked into the ballroom, her mind reeling from the events of the last few hours. The king of Rogandal blamed her for his son’s refusal to marry the Jordanian princess. The queen appeared to have been planning this wedding for years, and she couldn’t clearly recall the exact moment she and Eric had become engaged.
“What’s wrong, are you not happy? After everything we’ve been through, the struggle, the politics, the plots and intrigue, after all of that – what could be the matter?” Eric followed Astrid into the ballroom.
“Aside from the fact that your father despises me, and we’re engaged but you never asked me to marry you properly?” Her voice, meant to be a whisper, echoed in the cavernous space. Above them, the crystal chandelier glimmered against the molded ceiling.
Eric looked around at the parquet floor, the mirrored walls, and the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Is that what you needed, for me to ask you to marry me, bending down on one knee?”
“Yes, I guess that’s what I wanted. I know it seems silly after all we’ve been through, but it would have been nice to tell our children one day about the moment you proposed. Not that it was decided on a ship, an island, or a private jet. Most girls would like a proposal she’s proud to tell her children about.”
“Our children?” asked Eric with a warm smile. He reached his hand to her cheek, caressing her face. “You haven’t picked out their names, have you?”
Astrid laughed. “Your Highness, I would not dare to be so presumptuous as to think that I will have any input into the names of the next generation to rule Rogandal.”
“I hope you are prepared to name our children – and to rule this nation with me. I don’t want a queen to sit at my side, alluring and vacant. I need you, Astrid, at my side. I depend on your cool head when I’m angry, on your ability solve any problem when I cannot see a solution. We’ll rule together, that is my desire.”
“If that is your desire, perhaps you should propose?”
Eric bent down on one knee in the middle of the ballroom floor. Holding her hands in his, he gazed up at Astrid. “Lady Willoughby, will you do me the greatest honor you could bestow upon me, and become my wife? Will you agree to be a friend and lover, a companion, and my queen? Will you rule by my side, forsaking all of our wants and desires for the sake of the people of Rogandal?”
Astrid was already engaged to Eric in
word, but it wasn’t until this moment that she felt as though she had truly become his fiancée. In the ballroom of the palace she felt like a princess; it was a fairy tale come to life. Eric was her Prince Charming and he was asking her to be his wife.
“Yes, Your Highness, I will marry you – and I will do my best to be all that you ask.”
Eric slowly stood and embraced her, kissing her passionately. There was no cheering crowd, no press to document the momentous occasion. It was just a private moment between Astrid and the man she loved, the moment she felt like any other woman who said yes to the man she loved. She was excited and couldn’t wait to be married.
“Eric, this is the best day of my life; it’s a dream come true!” she beamed.
“Are you telling me we can just call off the wedding? There will be a lot of disappointed people in Rogandal if we do that, not to mention around the world.”
“You know what I meant. All my life I wanted to find the right man, the man I would one day marry and here you are standing in front of me.”
“Astrid, I never knew you were a romantic; I am learning something new about you every day.”
“Good, because I intend to keep you guessing.”
As Astrid and Eric held each other in the ballroom, a fairytale prince and his future bride, a story was breaking in the foreign press – a story that Astrid was not expecting.
Returning to her suite, she wanted to lie down for an hour before dressing. That evening, the king was holding a dinner in the honor of the soon-to-be married couple and she wanted to look her best. This dinner would be the first of many events held in honor of the future king of Rogandal and his royal bride. She did not want to appear in pictures with bags under her eyes.
As she lay down in the enormous bed, she closed her eyes and dreamed of the wedding. It was to be televised live around the world, her every move and word scrutinized by the press. As she drifted into sleep, she knew that it was going to be a beautiful ceremony and at the end of it, she would be married to the man she adored. All she had to do was calmly get married in front of a worldwide audience of millions of people.
A light rapping on the door signaled the arrival of a lady’s maid. Astrid yawned and stood up as the maid entered the suite carrying her gown for the dinner. The gown was a strapless, couture, tea length dress of deep blue silk. The skirt flared out from the hips and the gown shined with thousands of tiny hand-sewn beads. It was exquisite. A gown for a princess, she thought, as she absentmindedly turned on her laptop, a habit she’d had for many years.
Astrid scrolled through the news feeds, expecting to see coverage of her wedding, speculation on the design of the gown, and whether she would speak in Swedish during the ceremony. Gasping, she was dismayed to read a shocking headline about herself making its way around the internet’s news sites. The headline that rocked her core simply stated Future Princess paid escort to Saudi Royal family. Astrid was shocked to see pictures of herself with Fayed, and older pictures with his brother Ahmad, splashed across the screen. The story was thinly disguised gossip without any real content, but the pictures did suggest she was intimate with two of the wealthiest members of the Saudi royal family.
Although the pictures were not shocking, it did show her as being close to both brothers, laughing and sharing quiet conversation in the images. Astrid knew enough about public perception to know that it didn’t take much to spark the imagination of the public, just a few images and a well-placed suggestion was sufficient to make a rumor become a fact in the minds of interested readers.
She was intimate with Ahmad, that was true – but it was never as an escort. She had once been in love with him. She had sacrificed that love so he could become the next ruler of his country, and it was coming back to haunt her in a way she could not have anticipated. Closing the laptop, she sat in stunned silence, unsure what her next move must be, her anxiety gripping her like a hand around her heart.
With her wedding only days away, she could think of only two people who would want to smear her name, to ruin the wedding of the next king of Rogandal: Princess Eirinia, or Princess Serena Razia. They were the only people who would benefit from embarrassing Eric or Astrid.
As the maid stood quietly waiting for Astrid to finish having a mini melt down, Astrid reached for her phone and called Fayed, and then her contact in London. She needed to get to the bottom of this – and quickly – before dinner. She did not want to walk into a room of her peers with this shadow of scandal hanging over her head.
* * *
Astrid did not want to be late for dinner. She sat in her blue evening gown, a pair of strappy heels on her feet, her hair in soft waves around her shoulders. Staring at her phone, she knew she was not going to speak to anyone until she knew more about the story and where it originated.
The maid curtsied and left Astrid sitting on the settee, lost in her own thoughts.
“Are you ready to go down?” Eric breezed into the suite.
“I can’t go down. Not yet.” She took a deep breath.
“We are the guests of honor at this dinner; we should make an appearance,” he said, trying to cheer her up. “I don’t think we can miss this – they’re expecting us.”
Astrid was unable to meet his gaze as she quietly replied, “I need to show you something, tell you something that I didn’t think was important.”
“What is it?”
“This.” She showed him the laptop, and stood behind him as he read the headline about her involvement with the Saudi royal family.
“This is interesting. An escort? What will the press think of next?” Eric replied as he dismissed the article.
“Eric, this is horrible! It could affect your reputation if the world. If your people think you are marrying a highly paid escort their opinion of you could change.”
“When are you going to realize that I’ve been on the receiving of so much bad press in my lifetime that I don’t care what the media thinks of anything I do? Or you, for that matter.”
“I know you don’t, but your people will. Other world leaders will consider it scandalous, a wedding between a well-loved prince and such a person that they are trying to make me out to be.” A tear slid down her cheek.
“Please don’t let this upset you; it’s just part of being in the public eye. You were so good at helping me navigate the media but you’ve never had to live up to the same standards, have you? It can be exhausting.”
“I understand why you would rather spend your time on Freja.”
“This is just a storm that will pass. There isn’t a shred of truth there and soon the press will lose interest if they have nothing to go on.” Eric held out his hand to her. “Come on, we have a room full of wealthy people who want to celebrate our pending nuptials.”
“That’s just it. I wish I could say there wasn’t any truth for the press to uncover – but I can’t.”
“You can’t say there’s no truth you a rumor that you were a paid escort?”
“How could you even ask me such a thing?”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, I need more information. What am I supposed to think?”
“I was not an escort, not at all.” Astrid pulled Eric down on the settee beside her as she searched for the right words to tell him about her relationship with Ahmad. “Eric, you know that you were my last prince, my last wayward royal that I would ever try to bring back into the fold. You know that I’ve been doing this type of work for many years, receiving monetary compensation for it.”
“Yes, I am aware of that.”
“Many years ago, I had a relationship with Fayed’s brother, Ahmad.”
Saying Ahmad’s name to Eric felt strange to Astrid, as though she was introducing the two men she had loved to each other and expecting them to be friends.
“Ahmad, the older brother? What happened?” asked Eric.
“I was contracted by the Saudi royal family to bring Prince Fayed back in line. He was young, brash, and very much like you. Fayed and I be
came friends, but Ahmad and I had…deeper feelings for one another.”
“You had an affair?” asked Eric.
Astrid shook her head. “No, it wasn’t a casual romance. I prided myself on my ability to keep work and my social life separate, but Ahmad blurred that line. He wasn’t a client, and he was charming, handsome. We fell in love. I ended it when his family gave him an ultimatum. They liked me but they didn’t want the next ruler to be married to an English aristocrat. He would have given up everything to be with me, but I wouldn’t let him do that.”
Astrid could not look at Eric. Her confession of loving another man felt like a betrayal.
He understood that. “Okay, Astrid, you loved before, and so did I. It doesn’t mean this is any less meaningful or that we don’t love each other. I understand that you didn’t tell me about this for reasons you thought were important. It happened a long time ago, so how can I be angry or hurt about a romance you had before you knew me?”
She let herself tip sideways so her head rested on his shoulder, and sighed deeply. “Good. What about the story, though? If the press digs into it, they’ll find something there – something they can use against me to hurt you.”
“Can you go to the press and tell your side of it? Admit to having a love affair with Prince Ahmad?”
“I can’t do that. When I ended our relationship, I did it to shield him from scandal and having to abdicate his claim to the throne. If I admit it now, it may do harm to him.”
“I don’t know if you realize it or not, but the harm is already being done – and not by you.”
She nodded, chewing her lip. “You’re absolutely right. If I only knew where the story came from. If it was your sister or Serena, I’d know what to do, how to fight it.”
“Eirinia? Do you think she has a hand in this?”
“You did ruin her lifelong dream of becoming queen. If it wasn’t for the opinion of the people, demanding that you become the king of Rogandal, she would be queen…and you would have retired quietly to the Indian Ocean with your new wife.”
Taming the Rebel Prince: The Royals of Rogandal Page 23
