“I don’t know.”
“Was he attacked, shot upon? Someone give me answers!” Was this a declaration of war?
“I don’t know,” my father answered again, his blue eyes clouding over. Almost as if he were giving up.
“What the hell do you know? For Christ’s sake, you’re the king!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the cavernous space, and my father took a step back. He faltered slightly as if he were about to take a tumble. I reached for him before he went down. With my hand clasped around his arm, I led him to the nearest chair. The king sat heavily in it.
“Tell me what you do know,” I said, crouching at his feet. I held his hand and gave it a soft but urgent squeeze. I needed answers.
“They think his plane went down in the early hours. This morning. Their time… our time, I’m not sure. It never arrived. They lost the signal, but the navy found…” he swallowed and I waited for him to gather his strength. “They got there quick, but it was too late. The wreckage, the fuselage… was in pieces. No survivors.”
I closed my eyes briefly, the word ‘wreckage’ acting as an impeccably sharp knife as it sunk deep into my chest.
“But Frederick? Have they found him… have they found his body?”
My father shook his head, extricated his hand from mine, and rubbed it over his face. “What part of no survivors don’t you understand, William?”
“But—”
“They’re searching. The British fleet, the Americans, the Chinese. They’re all searching. They’ve been searching for hours. He couldn’t have survived in those waters.”
“But—”
“But nothing. He’s gone.”
His words were a slap to my face. No longer crouched, I took a step back from him and helplessly stared at the wall. Thick wallpaper, a dark damask pattern, blurred before my eyes. Frederick couldn’t be gone. We’d always been together. Twins, brothers, best friends. A world in which he wasn’t a part of was unthinkable. Grotesque. Repulsive.
He couldn’t be gone, I thought again, as I felt a quiver of guilt shake my body. I should’ve been with him.
“He’s not gone,” I said aloud. Was I deluding myself? Maybe. But surely I would’ve felt something? A jolt, a departure of some sort? His essence slipping away. We’d always been able to finish each other’s sentences and we’d always attributed it to being twins, being so connected. But where was that connection now?
“There will need to be a formal announcement made to the nation… and arrangements to be made, of course.”
My father’s words, cold and full of surrender shook me out of my reverie. He’d actually given up. He’d skipped the first four stages of grief and made a beeline right to the fifth. Acceptance.
“He’s not even cold yet… we don’t even know for sure. We need confirmation. We don’t even have a body and you are making fucking arrangements?” I blurted out, unable to contain my anger. He was talking about my brother, my twin—his first born son, for fuck’s sake—not some bloke off the street!
“We have a duty…”
“Fuck duty!”
I needed time…
Time to process this. Time to scream and yell and cry. I would not be forced to dance to their tune as we all would be expected to. This was my brother, the guy who always had my fucking back no matter what. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to die so young. Hell, I should be dead, not him.
“William,” Prince Albert, my maternal grandfather, said sternly. His voice was strong despite his aging years and travelled clearly across the expanse. He hadn’t moved; he was still in the chair across from my distraught mother. His eyes narrowed and his grey whiskers twitched as his mouth moved. “You are now first in line. Start acting like it.”
“I don’t fucking care,” I shot back, wanting to hit something hard with my fists, the grief starting to suffocate me. My grandfather tutted and went back to impersonating a gargoyle.
My father, the King of England, finally rose out of his chair, his face red with anger. “This is your life now, William, and you have to deal with it. Frederick is gone and by God you will be his replacement whether you like it or not.
My father continued on, looking at me from under his thick eyebrows, “This is a tragedy but you have a duty, we both do. A duty to this family, to this nation! Don’t you forget about that. We have let you carry on doing what you please for far too long, but I will not abide your behaviour any longer. Not now.”
My gaze narrowed, feeling cold and dead inside. I didn’t want this. I never wanted to be in this position.
“I am not Frederick. I never will be.”
“That is certainly the truth!” he shot back before turning towards his chair.
“Henry!” my mother gasped, then she looked at me for the first time since I’d entered the room. She quickly averted her gaze again, dissolving into another fit of tears. I wasn’t the son she hoped to see. I was a poor copy of her perfect Frederick.
“Fuck you,” I said to my father in a soft, resigned voice. King of England or not, he was still an asshole. I knew I wasn’t going to ever live up to his or anyone else’s expectations. I was not Frederick. They would all prefer it if it had been me instead of him, I thought.
“Stop it! Just stop it!” Charlotte screamed from the corner. “We shouldn’t be fighting. Not at a time like this. Families come together when loved ones…” Tears flooded her eyes and her lip trembled. “They’re not supposed to tear each other apart!”
“Charlotte, Lottie, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean—” I said as I took a cautious step in her direction. I hated to see either of my sisters upset. And seeing her like that shattered my heart more than I thought possible. But she shook her head, tired curls bouncing around her slim shoulders. The dam broke for what I could only imagine the thousandth time that day as more tears washed over her cheeks.
Before I could get to her she bolted from the room, and the slap of her soles echoed down the hallway beyond. Without thinking I left in her wake, leaving the cold, mournful, room behind.
The ever present thought of my brother sent a spiral of pain surging into my chest, and forced me to stumble towards the edge of the hallway so I could lean up against the wall for support.
Rick was really gone.
I was never going to see my brother again, hear his chuckle or see that narrow stare he loved to throw my way when I made some dumb joke.
“Damn you,” I whispered bitterly. He had gone out the way I would have hoped to, never seeing death coming, oblivious to the danger.
Now he’d left me with a holy hot mess, a mess I’d never anticipated being in, ever. A part of me wanted to leave the palace and just drive till I ran out of road, try to forget that Frederick was dead and that I was now expected to be someone I never intended on being.
The other part wished I’d been on the plane with him.
Two
Sophie
After knocking, I straightened my shoulders and attempted to put on a brave face as I stepped into the King of England’s private office. The night had already been long enough and coupled with the grief I was feeling, I knew that the next few days were going to be exhausting. But I’d been summoned; there was no time for tears. I had duties to perform, and you don’t say no to a king.
I swallowed. I still couldn’t believe it. Frederick was gone. It was hard to fathom that I would never see his face again. I would never again see him saunter into his offices each morning, bringing cups of coffee and sweet treats for us both from the little place down the street, with an easy carefree smile on his face.
He would say something silly and antiquated like, “Top of the morning to you, Sophie,” and I would roll my eyes, thinking how the heir to the throne, the future king of England, was not at all like the quiet shy guy that everyone saw at public events. He had been charming and wonderful and now he was gone. And my heart was broken.
My eyes filled with tears again and I wiped at them hastily. I couldn’t cry rig
ht now. There were things to be done, which was no doubt the reason I had been summoned. Either that or I was about to be given my marching orders.
King Henry sat at his desk, his head in his hands, fingers clutching at the ends of his thick grey hair. My heart went out to him. I could only imagine the grief the family was going through. Each one of them must’ve been shattered beyond repair.
I stood with my hands clasped behind my back and waited for the king to address me. After a few awkward moments I cleared my throat.
“Your Majesty?” I said, keeping a discreet distance as he lifted his head.
“Miss Mortimer,” he said, motioning for me to come in the rest of the way. “Take a seat.” I walked to the desk and sat down on one of the leather chairs before it, clutching my hands in my lap. Trying to hold on.
Sadness and desperation were permanently engraved all over his face, from the redness of his eyes to the deep cavernous lines that had appeared out of nowhere since yesterday. The lines weren’t there earlier when I’d brought a stack of papers Frederick had signed before departing on his trip. My chest ached once more at the mere thought of the grinning guy whose life had been extinguished much too soon and I cleared my throat to keep from sobbing loudly in front of his father.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Sire,” I started out, choking on the last few words. It was a feeble attempt to console the man, and I regretted them as soon as they were out.
But King Henry surprised me. He inclined his head before rubbing a hand over his face. “Thank you, my dear. Frederick speaks, I mean spoke, highly of you and your ability to keep him on task.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, clenching my hands tightly together. “It was a pleasure being his private secretary. I was very fond of him.”
“Weren’t we all,” he said with a loud sigh.
I had been Frederick’s private secretary for three years, scheduling his calendar and organising the majority of his public duties and appearances as a member of the royal family, as well as handling all of his correspondence.
When I’d first gotten the position, I was star struck by just the sheer thought that I was a member of the royal offices. Frederick had been quiet at first, but over the years we had struck up quite the friendship. He was an intelligent man, very dedicated to his future, but he also had a humorous streak, and a hidden wild side that I feared he never let anyone see. He would never have the chance to anymore. He also had a memory like a steel trap and could remember the most trivial of things. But it was a good quality. He never forgot anything about you, like the type of coffee you preferred or when your birthday was.
Being Prince Frederick’s private secretary had been so much more than just a job and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But now that Frederick was gone, there would be no position for me at the palace after all the loose ends were tied up. My time here, bittersweet as it was, was up. I would be moving on. I could only hope I would be leaving with a letter of recommendation from the king himself.
“Yes, well,” King Henry said, clearing his throat, “We shall all miss him. I trust you will take the time off that you need?”
I shook my head. Time off? If I wasn’t being fired, sitting alone in my tiny house wasn’t going to help me forget Frederick.
“My service is here. Whatever the family needs.”
Unless that service was no longer needed, I thought. And why would it be? The king and queen already had their private secretaries, personal assistants, pages, communication officers, and countless other people in their entourage looking after them. And all of the other members of the royal family had their own go-to people already in place. Granted, many of the heirs didn’t have formal private secretaries since they were looked after by the main office, but that wasn’t about to change; tradition wasn’t about to be thrown out of the window for someone like me. No, it wasn’t like I could just usurp another position. They were my work colleagues, and I wouldn’t want to take someone else’s job. I would be sacked by the end of this conversation.
“That is why I have called you in here,” he said with another heavy sigh.
I swallowed, waiting on the words that would spell out my doom. My neck upon the chopping block. But I would be ok. I wouldn’t let this defeat me. I would find another job. Something as equally extraordinary. Something that would be another shinning chapter of my career. But what? I didn’t know.
I imagined I would have to set my sights a little lower, take a step down. In serving the royal family I’d already climbed so high, and hit the ceiling. It would all be downhill from here. Either that or a position in a royal household abroad; a European dynasty perhaps. But even thinking along those lines felt like a betrayal to my own country, to the people I’d served all these years… to Frederick. Yet my goals had always been lofty, ever since I was a child. I had a promise to keep… I would reach for the stars no matter what.
In the meantime, I had enough saved—thanks to the generous bonuses from Frederick—to keep me afloat for a while until I could find the perfect next step in my career.
“I need you to help William.”
My head became light as I stared at His Royal Majesty. Those words I hadn’t anticipated.
“I beg your pardon, Sire? Do you mean His Royal Highness, Prince William?”
I wasn’t being fired? Relief threatened to cascade through me, but I held it at bay, wanting to know for sure. It felt petty; selfish even that I was thinking about my job and career at a time like this, but my job was all I had. I clung to it like a lifeline.
“Yes, the one and the same,” he prodded, settling back into his chair.
I nodded. Of course I knew who he was. Frederick’s twin brother. But I’d never had cause to cross paths with him. Frederick was—had been—my sole focus. Besides, as far as I knew, William was always gallivanting off, doing his own thing.
“I understand that you haven’t had many dealings with him, but he needs… well, he will need assistance. To transition into his new position, you understand? It will be tough on everyone, I expect. But he has responsibilities now. Duties. A certain standard to uphold. And I have all the confidence in the world that you can help with that, Sophie. You can guide him through the minefield. After all, you’ve done it before. Though like I said, it won’t be a walk in the park. William is not Frederick.”
I thought about his words and about what I knew of Prince William, the black sheep of the royal family. He was technically the middle son and clearly not fond of the institution he’d been born into, if one paid attention to his actions, which quite rightly drove his parents crazy.
William was the daredevil, always in the tabloids with his antics. More than once rumours persisted that the family disapproved of his choice of lifestyle, though none of the staff had ever been witness to any tirades. At least not that I knew about.
I hadn’t formally met William personally, but had seen him in passing a time or two when he had graced his brother’s office. And where Frederick had been polished and sleek, Will was rough and unkempt. Though the twins were not exactly identical, their colourings, stature and facial features were close enough. They could’ve passed as identical if they wanted to. I remembered Frederick’s dark thick hair and startling blue eyes and imagined it would be like looking at a ghost if I ever did come face to face with William. Could I take the job and put myself through that torture?
Tabloid photographs of screaming girls going crazy over Prince William whenever he made an appearance burst into my mind. They went gaga over his chiselled jaw that always had a bit of stubble and his well formed body. And more than once he had been linked to some of the top socialites in London. To be fair though, all three of the brothers, Frederick and Robert included, had their fair share of tabloid exposure and lustful gazes. They were after all handsome princes, unmarried and unattached. And now there were only two.
The realisation of Frederick being gone kept hitting me. Unrelenting waves that battered at my emotions. Dammit, I
kept thinking he was still here. And now I was being asked to help his twin. Frederick would no doubt want me to do it. He loved Will and all his siblings so much. And though I didn’t shy away from a challenge, and while I’d much preferred Frederick’s quiet nature, Will was something quite different… He had a dangerous quality to him. And the idea unnerved me.
“Wouldn’t he prefer to choose his own secretary, Sire?” I asked, even though I knew there was a pretty lengthy process to become a royal secretary. Not even counting the vetting and security clearances required. One had to show poise and the ability to handle even the most delicate of situations. They had to be trusted with some of the most guarded secrets of the crown due to who their employer was and needed to have no qualms about keeping their trap shut.
I’d gotten most of my own training direct from my mother. She had served as a private secretary to the Duchess of Dorset, Frederick’s aunt on his mother’s side, during the majority of my childhood. My mum had done so well that for her service to the crown that she was bestowed a great honour, and was made a member of the Royal Victorian Order. Though she never told me exactly what it was for or why. She was pretty tight-lipped and always waved away my curiosity.
My mum had retired a few years ago, but she had taught me all there was to know about the position. Along with my degree from Oxford, I had passed the most rigorous and gruelling of job interviews. But not without a few stumbles.
A diminutive smile graced the king’s lean face. “I’m sure he would like to, but unfortunately he does not have a choice in the matter. Frankly, I need someone I can trust to guide him through the months ahead and I believe that it should be you, Sophie. You’re level-headed whereas he is not. You know what it takes to hold the position that William has suddenly found himself in. So, can I count on you?”
“Of course,” I said. After such high praise, I couldn’t say no.
He smiled again though it did not reach his eyes. “Thank you, Sophie. Go home and get some rest. We have some tough days ahead of us.”
Royal Master Page 2
