by Vivian Wood
“What would you have done if you hadn’t lost it? Would you have, as people suggest, terminated the pregnancy?”
I swallow and shake my head.
“Absolutely not. I believe in a woman’s right to choose, but I didn’t get that far. I have to tell you Leslie, the experience really changed me. When I was in crisis, I felt I had nowhere to turn, no one to talk about this with. I have a very privileged life, so I can only imagine what girls and women in more difficult financial and social circumstances feel. I’m planning to start a charity to help women through those times, actually.”
“The way your story came out in the press must be very difficult for you,” Leslie says.
“It really was. Charles Ford, the person I trusted most, recently sold my medical records to the tabloids. It’s not just tasteless and cruel, it’s illegal. Charges have been filed against him and against the persons who bought private information from him.”
“And it sounds like he’s told a lot of people other stories about you, things that aren’t true. How do you hope to sort fact from fiction?”
I take a deep breath.
“Well, this is the first step. I will do interviews, try to let people get to know me. Then they have to judge for themselves, I guess!” I tell her.
The audience actually applauds at that, which feels pretty good.
“Well, you seem perfectly lovely to me,” Leslie says with a smile.
“Thanks,” I say with a laugh. “I’m trying, to be sure.”
“Well, we’re not quite done with you, Katherine. We have a special guest here to see you,” Leslie tells me.
“Uhhh….” I say, looking around. The audience laughs. “Do you, now?”
“Prince Alasdair, will you come on out?” Leslie calls.
My heart leaps into my throat when I see Rex walk out onstage. He’s wearing this perfectly fitted navy suit, his blond hair artfully tousled, his ocean-blue eyes sparkling.
I stand up, confused, but I’m smiling.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“That’s not a very nice way to greet your man, is it?” he teases, and the audience applauds. I blush.
“Hi,” I say. He walks up and takes my hand, looking down at me. “What…”
Then he winks at me. Oh god, what is he doing?
Rex drops down onto one knee, keeping my hand in his.
“Rex, what are you doing?” I ask. I can hear the panicky tears in my voice, only moments away from becoming a reality.
“Lady Katherine Saville,” he says. “I’ve loved you as long as I can remember. We’ve been through hell together, and come back alive… because we’re strong together.”
“Rex, really.” I squirm.
He pulls out this white ring box and pops it open, showing me the enormous chocolate diamond ring inside. His mother’s wedding ring, I’m pretty sure.
I start to cry before he even gets the question out.
“Kitty, will you marry me?” he asks, arching a brow. The audience goes nuts, cheering wildly, and it just compounds my feeling of unreality.
I can’t help it. I let out this awkward chuckle, and Rex squeezes my fingers.
“So?” he asks.
I look at Leslie, then the audience, then press a hand to my eyes. I get really overwhelmed for a second, enough that I consider fleeing the stage.
Then Rex tugs my hand away from my eyes, and when I look down at him, I can tell that he’s not just playing to the crowd. I look at him and just… I know.
This is what I’ve wanted since the day I laid eyes on him.
“Of course I will,” I whisper, wrinkling my nose at him.
“Is that a yes?” Rex asks, trying to get me to say it loud enough for everyone else to hear.
“Yes!” I say, playing it up to the audience.
Everyone whistles and cheers. Rex slides the ring on my finger and stands up, pulling me close for a kiss.
I grin. “Is this real?”
Rex laughs and nods. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now, Kitten.”
I roll my eyes and press my lips to his again.
“I can think of worse fates,” I say.
“Until we tell my grandfather,” Rex says with a wink.
I pull a face as we walk offstage, laughing. I’m so excited I feel like I’m vibrating with it, drunk with it. Feeling silly, I slide my hand down and grab Rex’s ass.
His reaction is comical. First he’s surprised, then a little offended, then he gives me a scolding look.
“Princesses can’t just go around grabbing princes’ asses when they feel like it, you know,” he tells me. “As a Princess, you’ll have to behave with more decorum.”
Princess. Wow, that’s me.
“Is that so?” I ask, eyeing him.
“I fucking hope not, since I’m planning to drag you off into the coat closet and make you come every chance I get,” he says. “Show you why they really call me Prince Magnum.”
“You really are absolutely terrible,” I tell him.
“But I’m yours,” he says.
I melt into his arms, unable to stop the foolish grin that crosses my face because it’s true.
He is mine, and I’m his, and we’re really, honestly together.
At last.
18
Rex
“You are all worthless!” my grandfather thunders, looking for all the world like the top of his head is about to shoot off. He’s standing at the far end of the solarium, pacing back and forth in front of the windows.
Everyone else is sitting on chairs and small couches, all facing the King as he rants and raves. I say everyone else, because he’s called my sister, my cousins, and numerous others to bear witness as he publicly flagellates us all.
Not that it really matters. After I surprised Kit and proposed on live TV, our ratings exploded. Our story, our faces, are plastered all over every social media site and TV broadcast.
We’re being talked about at pubs, housewives are swapping stories about us.
We’re basically untouchable, as far as the people of Courtland are concerned.
Not that the King gives a shit about any of that, the old codger. He points to each of his grandchildren in turn, naming our sins.
“Degenerate gambler and drug addict!” he says to Bramford.
“Won’t give me an heir!” he says to Camille and her husband.
“And you two…” he howls at me and Kit.
Kit’s digging her fingers into my knee. We’re stuck on this musty Victorian-era sofa, crammed together while my grandfather lectures the whole family. He hasn’t even begun to list my sins yet, and Kit looks like she’s about to have a nervous breakdown.
I lean close to her ear and whisper, “Relax.” Kit gives me the briefest smile and I can see her trying to draw in deep breaths.
“You two think you can just show up here, holding hands, and you’ll have royal approval for marriage?” the King asks, stalking over to us.
His posture seems so stooped, his hair so gray. I realize, for the first time in a long time, that I absolutely do not care about his opinions. I’ve got Kit, and that’s enough for me.
I lean back in my seat, ready for the King to tell me off proper. Give me a reason to leave, old man. I swear, Kit and I will be gone, living overseas so fast your fucking head will spin.
My grandfather looks at me, at the note of challenge on my face, and he gives me this slow smile.
“Alasdair, you know the rules. You’re too close to the throne to marry freely. And she,” the king points at Kit, “is not going to be a crown princess. You know what kind of stock she comes from. It’s not going to happen.”
I stand, pulling Kit up with me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” my grandfather hisses.
“I think we’re done here,” I say with a shrug. “We’ve got plans to make, airfare to buy.”
“Airfare!”
“Yeah. Didn’t I tell you? Kit and I are proba
bly moving to L.A.”
It’s a lie, but it’s a good one.
My grandfather turns seven shades of purple at that.
“Crown princes cannot reside in L.A.!” he shrieks.
“Oh. Well, I’m not planning on being a prince anymore. I’m going to bequeath my title to Bram.”
Bram blinks; he’s as surprised by this announcement as anyone.
“You most certainly are NOT!” the King cries. “You are my blood, my direct line. You are not leaving, and you’re not marrying unless I approve it!”
“Or what?” I ask.
Kit’s literally trembling beside me, but I can’t help it. I’m so fed up with this bullshit, with my grandfather having all the power and the rest of us scrambling to please him.
“You think just because you went and pulled a stunt on national television, that I won’t bar you from marrying each other?” my grandfather asks.
“I think you would, yes. I also think you’d be wise to realize the power of the media, and that Katherine and I have harnessed it fully. After Katherine’s interview and my proposal, we’re more popular than you and Grandmother right now.”
“You have the nerve…” he snarls.
“They say progress happens one grave at a time,” I say glowering at him. Daring him to disown me, when he knows how poorly the rest of the country will react.
“I have an announcement, actually.”
Everyone turns to Camille, who stands up and clears her throat. Camille is the picture of royal perfection with her white cream pants suit and her elegantly-coiffed blonde hair. She looks like Boardroom Barbie, in a good way.
The fact that she’s standing up, drawing attention to herself like this, in front of this crowd… I feel a swell of pride, watching my sister act like the boss she is.
“Camille, really. This isn’t the time,” my grandfather huffs.
“Oh, I think it’s exactly the time,” my sister says, giving my grandfather a frown. “For years, you’ve belittled me, told me I’m not good enough in a hundred different ways. Well, today, I get to say that I’m the first one to produce an heir. Two of them, actually.”
Everyone goes silent for a second, then Kit grins and starts clapping.
“Camille, really? Twins?” Kit says, waltzing right around my grandfather to hug my sister.
That, that right there. That’s what I love so much about Kit. She’s terrified of my grandfather, but she doesn’t let that stop her from congratulating my sister.
Now that she’s freed from all her secrets, Kit doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in the way of her joy.
The Queen surprises us all by pushing up out of her seat and walking over to hug Camille, too.
“Congratulations are in order, my dear,” the Queen says, kissing my sister’s cheek. I also catch the quick hug that my grandmother gives Kit, but it seems unwise to draw attention to it.
“The books that trace our blood line will have to be consulted, double checked…” my grandfather blusters.
“I think we all know that Camille’s sons edge me out of the running to become King,” I say, crossing my arms. “Which I can’t help but think is a good thing. I have a lot of important things to do with the rest of my life, but reigning over Courtland isn’t one of them. I have a scandalous girlfriend to marry and knock up, schools in Africa to build.”
“Rex!” Kit scolds, giving me a look. “Don’t be inappropriate just when you’ve won, darling.”
Everyone is on their feet by now, laughing and talking and hugging Camille. My grandfather retreats to the corner to pour himself some Scotch. The whole event is tumultuous and loud, the perfect opposite of the usual gatherings in this room.
Something about it makes me grin.
The Queen actually beckons Kit to her side, and Kit gives me a wide-eyed glance before leaving my side. My father sidles up to me and hands me a glass of whisky to match his own: three fingers of liquid, two ice cubes, stirred for ten seconds.
I accept it, because who am I to turn down a glass of whisky?
“Hope she’s not as crazy as her Mum,” my father sighs, regarding Kit with a frown.
I consider that for a second.
“I don’t think so. In any event, it doesn’t matter. I’ve settled on her. Kit’s the one I’m going to marry, come hell or high water,” I tell him.
He snorts.
“I should damn well hope so, after you went and shouted it to the damn rooftops,” he says, sipping his drink. “Before you children came in, he was raving about how he wouldn’t hear of you backing out of the marriage now. Said he wouldn’t let you embarrass the family.”
“Then I show up with Kit on my arm, to rain on his parade?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Yes, well. I also told him that he could give you hell if he wanted to, but if he didn’t give you approval, I’d buy you and Kit each a one-way ticket to the States myself. See what happens to his precious heritage then, the grumpy old badger.”
I’m taken aback. My father stuck up for me? It’s like being told that I’m getting a phone call from outer space, it seems so impossible it’s nearly funny.
“Ah. Uh, thanks,” is all I can come up with.
We sip in silence for a few seconds.
“Your life is going to change, you know,” my father says. “Now that you’re no longer in direct line to inherit, you’ll have more freedom. But a wife means more responsibility, in a lot of ways. You have another person relying on you now. And if you start a family…”
I raise a brow. I’ve never heard my father give advice on anything outside hunting and shooting or finance, so this is certainly an interesting turn of events.
“Is that right?” I ask.
My father shrugs and looks down into his glass, swirling the last drops.
“I suppose you’re too young to remember what it was like when your mother was alive, but I loved her terribly. I’ve never been able to settle on another, not the way I did with her. I was a rambler and a wastrel before she came along, that’s for sure.” He sips his drink and looks thoughtful. “Your mother certainly changed my life, for the better. I wish she’d been around long enough to raise you properly, but you seem to have turned out well enough after all.”
I open my mouth, but my father claps me on the shoulder and walks away.
You seem to have turned out well enough after all.
Apparently that’s all I’m going to get. That’s all right, it’s more than I ever expected.
I sidle over to Kit and nod toward the door. She looks around the room and then nods.
We sneak out without a goodbye or a backward glance.
I take her hand and lead her out of the palace, where Kit takes the time to stop and talk to several of the staff that she knows by name. I find myself thinking that it’s almost too bad that she’ll never reign here as Queen, because she’d probably be bloody great at it.
“Ready?” she asks as she takes my hand once again.
Yeah, I am. For the first time in a long time, I’m ready to move forward in every aspect of my life.
I smile at her, and I know that my dad’s right. Marrying Kit will change a lot of things in my life. It will challenge me, give me responsibilities I’ve never dreamed of.
But with her at my side, I’m ready to conquer anything.
I take Kit’s hand and lead her out of the palace.
Neither of us looks back.
19
Rex
Eighteen months later in Keroka, Kenya
“Hey, Kitty! Camille and Bernard are here!” Rex calls from the front yard.
Our little three-bedroom cottage has thin walls and almost no electrical appliances running during the day. Plus we leave all the windows open this time of year, so I can hear him perfectly well.
I crack an eye open, glancing at the clock. They’re not early, I’m just dreadfully exhausted and I overslept a little.
“Coming!” I call.
I stand and pull on a pa
ir of simple trousers and a loose caftan top. No need for finery way out here. It’s just us and the locals, and they seem to like and trust us better when we keep things simple.
Besides all our pocket money has gone into building the school.
I slip on my sandals and head outside, finding Rex with an arm around his sister Camille. Bernard is unloading some luggage from the Land Rover, and he stops to give me a wave.
My first thought is how pale they both look, compared to the bright red dirt and the colorful laundry hanging on the line in our yard. Everything in our lives now is carefully worn, lovingly stitched together time and again, and it gives our home a patchwork quilt sort of appearance.
Even the sky is bigger and bluer here than I remember it being in Courtland, though the sun is setting now.
In their brand new matching khaki safari outfits, Camille and Bernard stick out like sore thumbs. Rich sore thumbs. They don’t realize it yet, but Rex and I are going to use this trip to leverage the Courtland monarchy into building a girls’ dormitory for the school, a bright place where the girls can live safely while they learn.
Getting a good education, especially as a girl, is just one more thing I took for granted in Valencia City.
No longer, though.
“Oh my goodness,” Camille says, practically pushing her brother off to rush over to me. “Look at your baby belly!”
She hugs me, and it’s wonderful. Just for a moment, to feel that sense of home.
“I know, I know. I’m showing so early,” I sigh.
“You look so tired,” Camille says with a frown, patting my shoulder. “I brought you all kinds of good stuff. Ginger everything, to help with the nausea.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” I say with a smile.
“We’ve got the bags inside,” Rex says, grinning.
I see his sister eye his simple shorts-and-cotton-tee outfit with curiosity. Her examination rolls right off Rex’s back, like water off a duck. Nothing affects him, not since he found out he was going to be a dad.
For the last four months, he’s been more cheerful than a songbird, I swear. Walking on the clouds.
