Pretend Princess With Benefits: A Royal Fake Marriage Romance

by Lara Swann

  Nicolas knows something’s up with me - I’m sure he’s picking up on my stress and confusion and frustration. And he’s observant enough to know that it’s not the storm that has me in this foul mood. It’s still not the sort of thing that I can talk to him about - not with all the assumptions my family still have about Hanna and I.

  And I’m well aware of the irony that I’m even thinking about talking to him about it. But, actually, as we’re working together - I find myself thinking of talking to him about all sorts of things. The things I usually bite my tongue and let go, but suddenly…I don’t want to anymore. And the last few weeks have made me wonder whether there might be a little more to him than I thought.

  Enough that when the storm finally starts dying down, and we make our way to the top of the castle ramparts to see how much of the damage we can see…I can’t keep quiet anymore.

  Most of what we can see has debris scattered everywhere - the beach that Hanna and I spent so much time enjoying over the summer is covered with bits of washed up wood and rocks and jellyfish. The water is still an ugly gray-and-brown color, and lashes at the coast. It’s hard to believe we had more than one light-hearted peaceful swim there, now.

  And the groups of houses within the castle walls are even worse - there are a couple with trees right through the center, streets that are blocked and flooded, telephone lines and wires that have come crashing down…and probably worse, when we get down there to look through it all. The parts of Salda outside the castle walls, we’re relying on reports from those that evacuated for shelter and safety.

  So far, though, we don’t think anyone has been seriously injured from it - and that’s more of a miracle than I’d like to think about. We’re working on clearing a path so that cars can get through, and then the real reconstruction can begin - and Granna can finally get to the hospital she needs. It’s a testament to how damn strong she is that she’s coping with just portable painkillers and the promise of eventual medical attention so far…but her condition hasn’t worsened, and apart from being very frustrated, we think she’s probably going to be okay.

  “You know…it doesn’t have to be like this.” I finally say, as we lean against the castle walls and look out at the wild sea.

  We’ve completed the general assessment that we intended, and up here it’s hard not to want to snatch a couple of minutes’ peace, before going down into all the chaos below.

  Nicolas looks over at me, but doesn’t say anything - waiting, as he tends to.

  “If you wanted a different life, too…it’s not impossible.” I don’t look at him. I’m not sure I want to try and read that implacable expression. “It’d be hard, but…hell, there aren’t many straight monarchies left. Don’t you think eventually our people will look around and start wondering about democracy anyway?”

  “They haven’t so far.” He says, with no inflection at all. I’m not sure whether he’s actually listening, or just indulging me, but at least he’s responding.

  “No.” I agree. “But we’ve also…encouraged that, in the past. What if we simply stop doing some of that.”

  “I don’t think these things are so simple, Derek. It wouldn’t work.”

  The fact that he’s even talking about whether it would work is interesting - we’ve moved right past should we.

  “Maybe not. But if we wanted to, I think we could find something that might. Some joint responsibility, some light guidance to adjust our traditions and culture into something a little more…manageable.”

  Nicolas doesn’t say anything, but for once I take that as him withdrawing to think about it, instead of just blank disapproval.

  “We?” He asks, after a time.

  That does make me smile a little, and I turn towards him.

  “Well, I figure you’d probably need some help.”

  There’s something in his eyes, just briefly, before it disappears again.

  “Our family has always upheld Aldoran traditions and custom.” He says instead, almost word-for-word with every argument I’ve ever heard about why it has to be this way. “It’s part of who we are and our country’s identity - and our people have always been resistant to change. I’m not sure we should force something on them that doesn’t fit with Aldora, and they don’t want.”

  “They weren’t resistant to Hanna.” I point out, and I realize that maybe that’s the thing that finally prompted me to think about this again. “And she’s very much different. I don’t think we should force anything on anyone - and I respect our people’s long regard for our traditions. But it’s our responsibility to guide them, isn’t it? Maybe we should actually do something that would benefit Aldora. Is this really the best we can do? Fighting just to keep the things we already have, getting buffeted by storms we can’t even defend against simply because we don’t have the resources? Maybe we should guide Aldora into the rest of the world. Maybe if we do, we’ll be able to do something about this.”

  I nod towards the wreckage throughout Salda, but I don’t push any further. This is the calmest I’ve ever been when having this discussion, and it’s the least dismissive I’ve ever seen Nicolas. I don’t know whether he really agrees with me - I’m pretty sure he doesn’t, actually - but it means something that he’s listening, and that we’re starting to learn to communicate with each other.

  “Maybe.” He finally says, non-committal and impassive as always.

  But I feel better for having said it, and as we go back downstairs to everything else that needs to be done, I feel just a little bit lighter.

  It still feels painful and impossible to accept that Hanna is going to disappear - leave Aldora and never come back - but, in some small way, I’m happy that some of the changes that she started are probably going to last far longer. And though the idea of being here without her leaves me feeling bereft and empty…at least, for the first time, I feel like I might be starting to find a place for myself in Aldora.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hanna

  The power doesn’t come back on for what seems like forever. Which in realistic terms is at least a few days.

  And everything else takes even longer, until I feel like a ball of stress, wound tightly and ready to snap.

  I don’t snap, of course. I can’t afford to. There are people with bigger problems here than me - people who may have lost their houses, or don’t even know if they’ve got a house to return to, or even poor Adele who still hasn’t had proper treatment.

  But my problems aren’t completely insignificant, and I feel achingly bad for my parents with every passing hour, then every passing day. I have no idea what they think might have happened to me, but I know the fall out isn’t going to be good.

  I try to distract myself, and it’s not too hard with everything that needs to be done.

  It’s not my usual method, of course - falling into Derek’s arms, touching and kissing and being thrown back against a wall - but then I think that method is gone for good now.

  Everything between Derek and I has…well, it’s hardly fair to say it’s fallen apart. There hasn’t been a big argument, the kind of explosion my relationships usually end with, or anything like that. Hell, we haven’t even talked about it. But I guess we both just recognize that it’s…over.

  Even thinking that hurts, as distracted as I am by my parents and all the people that need taking care of now that they’ve come to stay in the castle for a few days.

  I try to tell myself it was never actually a real relationship, but I don’t think it works. And instead, every time I see him I feel my heart seize up, my legs go weak, and far too much of me sigh with ‘if only’. Which means I put an awful lot of effort into not seeing him.

  I wonder occasionally if it would have been nice to say goodbye somehow, but that seems stupid, so I don’t try. Besides, he’s busy. Doing far more important royal things than officially ending a summer fling. It’s stupid to resent that they’re more important, too, since his capital city just got totally wrecked.


  So, long story short - I think I’m working out that I’m really quite stupid. For all sorts of reasons.

  I resolve that when all the chaos is over, I’ll say goodbye properly, before I offend the whole country and leave. And maybe, if I’m feeling particularly brave, I’ll even let him know that when I go, it’ll feel like leaving my heart behind.

  Again, that’s stupid. But I’ve thought about it a lot and that’s exactly how it feels.

  My parents were right.

  Stupid, sexy, charming European guys are totally dangerous. I should’ve talked to them earlier, and they should have told me absolutely not to hook up with anyone for a fun summer fling, because it would wreck my heart and life and I may never survive, and I should have listened.

  I’m busy deciding that that’s exactly how it should have gone, and rummaging around in a supply closet for yet another set of blankets because the kids staying in the east wing don’t have enough and this castle is drafty as fuck and I’ve heard from at least two different sources that there are some left in here - when Simeon runs up to me.

  I’m momentarily impressed he even found me, and glance over.

  “You okay?”

  The pages have all been diverted from attending to the royal family into far more useful endeavors, and I won’t deny I’ve been more than a little glad about that, so I wonder what he’s doing now.

  Did someone summon me? Was it Adele?

  Then I notice the slightly wide-eyed stare, and the way he’s breathing heavily, and my heart clenches in my chest.

  “What’s happened? Is it Adele?”

  He shakes his head, mute for a moment and trying to catch his breath.

  “No, it’s—umm—your, umm—your parents are here.”

  I stare at him. The words don’t make sense, like they’ve been twisted and distorted somehow on the way to my brain.

  “What?” I say blankly.

  He takes another deep breath and repeats it.

  “Your parents - they’re, umm - they’re in the receiving room.”

  He looks like he’s seen a ghost, and the way he’s just staring at me…

  “Can you come with me? Please?” He finally breaks through my complete lack of comprehension, and suddenly everything comes flooding in at once. “They’re, umm, they’re…quite upset.”

  I can feel everything in me tighten suddenly, and I drop the blanket I’m holding - then I don’t even wait for him, I just take off at a run. I hear his footsteps behind me, but then everything disappears into a haze of complete impossibility.

  They can’t be. They just can’t be here. How could they? They can’t be.

  He’s got it wrong. It’s some random people that someone thinks are my parents. Maybe they look a little like me. That must be it. I’ll get there, and reassure everyone, and everything will be fine…

  I tell myself all this as I run full-pelt through the castle, dodging past people in the now crowded halls. Most people jump out of my way - they all seem to know who I am - and I hear a few behind me asking what the hell is going on. I wish I knew myself.

  I get to the receiving room in record time, and see one of the two heavy formal doors at the front of it wide open - the first time that’s ever been the case. There are always two guards there to open it and announce you - even when no one is using it - but I guess the guards have been diverted for other reasons.

  And from inside, I can hear the loud, distinctive voice of my Mom - absolutely furious.

  Fuuuuck.

  I don’t know how it happened. I don’t understand how they could possibly be here. But there’s no denying it.

  They are.

  I rush into the room to see the King at the other end - standing on the dias, looking just as angry as my parents, but in a stony, implacable way. Another quick glance shows Nicolas beside him, almost impassive, except the for slight wrinkle of confusion there - and Derek. Pale, wide-eyed and looking absolutely desperate.

  “I can explain—” He tries, looking between both of my parents and his father, but he’s cut off by both.

  “I don’t think there’s any explanation in the world for how you abducted our daughter and brought her here to marry, without once—” Dad’s voice is tight with anger, but it’s no match for the booming, commanding one that cuts him off.

  “My son did no such thing.” The King says coldly, and I think it’s the first time I’ve heard him defending Derek.

  “Where is she?” Mom interrupts. “I want to see her!”

  “I’m here.” I say, finally, out of breath, hands on my knees and heart racing from far more than the exertion of running through the castle.

  They all turn to look at me. All angry.

  Yep, that’s not intimidating at all.

  But I’m too shocked to get hung up on it. Of all the people I never expected to see in this room…

  “What are you doing here?”

  “We could ask you the same question.” Mom’s eyes flash at me, and I know that it’s partly being put in this position that’s tipping her fear and concern over into anger. She finds awkward family situations really uncomfortable in front of other people - and this is a whole royal court. I can’t believe they just walked in here and demanded—

  “We came to get you.” Dad says, a little more helpfully, though his voice is also tight and I can tell how stressed he is.

  “But…the trains aren’t running, the power’s out all around Salda - if not further - how did you…”

  His forehead crinkles slightly, as if he can’t believe I’m really asking about logistics right now. I can’t exactly believe it either, but the whole situation is entirely impossible, so…

  “We drove.” He says shortly. “Hired a car from Italy and came down over the border.”

  “We had no idea what had happened to you, Hanna - you just disappeared, and then we couldn’t get through to you, and you’re staying in this isolated country with no one we know…anything could have happened.” Mom adds, looking desperate.

  I bite my lip.

  It’s as simple as that. Their daughter was missing, so they flew to another country and drove all the way through it until they found her. I’d never even thought…

  “I’m sorry.” I say. “I’m really sorry. This is all such a fucking mess. The storm cut the power, and the phone lines, and I couldn’t get through to you. I really didn’t want you to worry—”

  I can almost see my Dad explode at that, and I wince. Bad comment to make.

  “You didn’t want us to worry? How could you have ever expected anything else, Hanna, I—”

  Mom puts a hand on his shoulder, attempting to calm him. “Let’s talk about it at home, Pat.”

  She glances around the room, and I’m suddenly aware of the way everyone is just staring at us, watching us argue. I feel even more guilty that I brought my parents into this, exposed them to all of that too.

  Dad whirls back towards the dias at the end of the room, though.

  “I’m not leaving until I’ve got an explanation. I don’t know who you think you are, taking my girl and bringing her out here - talking about her joining your royal family - without even the slightest—”

  I have to admire him for it, especially as he doesn’t seem to put any stock in who this man is happens to be a King. Of a whole country.

  “We didn’t take her anywhere.” King Charles interrupts, effectively silencing my Dad again. “And as you can see - as I said - she’s right here, perfectly fine. She came here because she wanted to. If she chose not to tell you of my son’s proposal, then I would suggest you look at your own family before you start accusing mine of everything under the sun.”

  There’s a moment of stunned silence and I can practically feel my parents reeling from that implication.

  My Mom is looking over at me, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that devastated.

  “Hanna, why didn’t you…”

  I can’t believe she’s even thinking it, even for
a moment - that I wouldn’t want to tell them about a real engagement. But why wouldn’t she? That’s exactly what this looks like.

  My head is spinning too fast for me to think, and I feel light-headed and dizzy from it.

  But King Charles isn’t done. He uses the stunned lull to turn to me, and I feel the narrow gaze of his anger as well.

  “But this does raise some questions, Princesca.” I have a moment to be surprised that he actually willingly gives me that title, but then everything else swamps it. “A lot of questions, about your suitability and—”

  “Father, stop. This is all my—” Derek tries to interrupt, but I’m already there.

  All I can hear is his cold comment towards my parents - the implication that I didn’t tell them because of something they did. And it all becomes too much for me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand here, and have these conversations - and I can’t, in any way, shape or form, let my parents think that I didn’t want to tell them about getting engaged for any reason whatsoever. They’ve put too much into giving me every reason to be open and honest with them to be accused like that by a harsh foreign King who knows even less about what’s going on.

  I’m fucking pissed at the King’s superior, dismissive attitude and I’m finally done with it. I lash back at it all instinctively, barely thinking about it. Just focused on my parents and what really matters.

  “It wasn’t like that.” I insist, looking desperately over at my parents, needing them to believe me. Doing the only thing I can think of - telling them the truth. “We weren’t really engaged. I didn’t lie to you because I didn’t trust what you’d think…I lied because I think I knew it was stupid, and I didn’t want to hear it.”

  People try to interrupt me, but I don’t let them. I just raise my voice and keep going. I tell them everything, the way I should have done straight away.