Her Highness, Princess Perry: Contemporary Reverse Harem (Kingdom of Veronia Book 2)

by Serena Akeroyd

  He shook his head. “Then, their opinion doesn’t matter.”

  She pulled a face. “I try to tell myself that I believe that, but I don’t. Not really. My dad’s opinion has always meant a lot to me. Mostly because I knew, from being very small, that one day I’d disappoint him by not doing what he wanted. By not being what he wanted for me.” She shrugged. “He’ll get used to the idea.”

  Xavier’s brow puckered further at how sad she sounded. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Take him under your wing at tonight’s party?”

  He blinked. “Of course.” He reached up to tug at his bottom lip. “You all set for the recital dinner?”

  She nodded. “As set as I’ll ever be.” He watched her place a hand on her stomach. “Not that I’ll be eating anything. I couldn’t eat a damn thing.”

  “Nerves,” he told her softly. “It will all be over in two days’ time.”

  “Yeah, it will. But then it’s the start of a whole lot of… something else.”

  He winced because she had that damn right. In this instance, she was truly falling from the frying pan into the fire.

  “I can’t believe it’s been four months since…”

  He smirked a little. “‘Since’ being the operative word.”

  She caught his eye, smiled. “Four months.” She blew out another breath. “Where’s the time gone?”

  “Has to be a record,” he told her ruefully. “No other wedding has happened so quickly.”

  “I can believe it. It feels insanely fast to me, too.” She stacked some papers together and shoved them into her laptop case. When he reached for it, taking it from her with ease, she sighed at the courtly gesture. As he swooped in, she took advantage of their proximity to murmur, “And yes, I’m jealous as hell.”

  He blinked, then grinned. “There’s no need to be. It was a long time ago, and it was an even bigger mistake.”

  “I shouldn’t be happy to hear that, but I am.”

  He winked. “You think I want to hear about the guys you’ve slept with?”

  “Well.” She cleared her throat. “You were my first and last one-night stand.”

  He laughed at her hushed tone and murmured, “Glad to hear it.” He placed a courteous hand at her lower back as he shepherded her out the door. It wasn’t how he wanted to touch her. If anything, he wanted to curve his arm about her waist and tug her close. Declare to the whole fucking world that she was his.

  But she wasn’t.

  As far as the world knew, she was Edward’s.

  And that sucked. But, at least he had her. At least she was a part of his life at all, and for that, he had to be grateful.

  As they stepped into the admin block of the EA, they were confronted with suspicious glances from the worker bees hiding inside their cubicles. He barely glanced at them, but with each scornful look, Perry straightened her shoulders, strutting her stuff, ignoring the contempt aimed her way.

  Apparently, she’d made a reputation for herself in the EA.

  He had to hide a grin at the thought.

  Xavier hadn’t needed to be at the meeting, not really. Although he knew his presence had meant that prick, Françoise, had been there, Xavier had attended the meeting mostly as a courtesy, but also out of curiosity.

  She’d been grumbling about the EA, and he’d wanted to see her in action as well as learn why she was so annoyed with the agency. He’d learned more than he’d expected, as well as the fact she’d been trying to handle this remarkable situation herself.

  He could commend her for that, but she’d need to learn how the family worked. Especially where their pigheaded government was concerned.

  After they headed through the dowdy office and found their way onto the main street, the limo was waiting for her, and she climbed in. “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “My car’s parked around the corner,” he told her.

  “Can’t one of your guards drive it?”

  He pondered that a second then reached for his phone. After he speed dialed a button, he said into the receiver, “Can you drive my car to the estate? I’ll be going to the castle.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.”

  With the assurance in place, he climbed into the limo.

  “That was relatively painless.”

  He shrugged. “I was going to come to the castle later on anyway.”

  “You were?” she asked, brows high.

  “Yes. Edward, George, and a few other friends from school are having a drink in one of the staterooms before the recital.”

  “Like a well-behaved stag party?” she asked, chuckling.

  “I guess,” he replied ruefully.

  “I can’t imagine Edward ever being wild enough to have an all-out stag party,” she mused. “But then, Edward on the outside is completely different to the one he’s shielding on the inside.”

  “You’re getting to know him well,” Xavier replied, approval lacing his tone. “He’s insane at heart. There was a particular summer,” he murmured, tone reminiscent, “We went to Ayia Napa.”

  “How the hell did you fool the guards?”

  “We didn’t. We had to fool Marianne and Philippe, but Drake knew. He didn’t approve, but Edward was young and so was I. He understood.” Xavier rubbed his chin as he grinned, memories flooding his mind. “It was probably the last time Edward ever really acted his age.” Sadness filled him at that thought.

  “I always had a lot more freedom than him, you know? I’d been to Ibiza the year before, and had passed out way too many times in Prague. But Edward? Not so much. He kept all his rebellions hidden in the bedroom.” He cocked a brow at her so she’d understand his meaning without him having to utter another word.

  Her laughter was choked, but hell, he’d take it. She’d looked so sorrowful when she’d spoken about her father, and he wanted to rectify that, take that away from her, any way he could.

  “So, he’s not going to be attending the recital meal pissed out of his skull, is he?” she asked wryly, turning in her seat so she was facing him. “I really need one of us to keep on impressing my dad, otherwise that’s just going to be awkward.”

  “Awkward?” he joked. “That’s what you’d call it, huh?”

  She snickered. “Well, it’s polite.”

  He winked. “I’ll do my best to restrain him. If having his father hanging around isn’t enough to dampen the party atmosphere, that is.”

  “Philippe’s going to be there?” She smirked. “Okay, well, that totally reassures me.”

  “Thought it might.”

  She pulled a face. “Does he need one?” she asked after a few moments.

  “A stag party?” He cocked a brow. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Sow the last of his wild oats?”

  He scoffed at that. “You think he’d cheat on you?”

  “Well, no. But, I mean, does he need to go crazy?”

  “I told you. Edward doesn’t do ‘crazy’ outside of the bedroom.” He pursed his lips. “Do you worry about that?”

  “About Edward needing to sow his wild oats?” She shrugged, and, sotto voce, murmured, “Maybe. Hard not to. Three of you, one of me. Although, I guess if anyone is gonna cheat, it’s more likely to be you or George.” The breath she blew out was long. “He’s tied to me. You guys are…”

  When she broke off, he asked, “We’re what?”

  “Out in the cold.”

  He squinted; making out her mumble was harder than it ought to have been. “You really think that?”

  “No. I’m scared that’s the truth. But I don’t let it rule me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be going through with—” She broke off. “That’s a lie.”

  “It is?” he asked, even though he knew it was.

  “Yeah. I wouldn’t have said yes to Edward’s proposal. But that was then. This is now. I love him, Xavier.”

  “I know you do.” His smile was heartfelt. “And I’ve never been happier about that. He’s eating more, sleeping more. Be
en less stressed. He’s happier. Jesus. I haven’t seen him this happy in a lifetime, Perry.”

  He shot a look at the driver and the guard at his side, but their attention was on the road. Using their inattention, he reached for the hands she had laying in her lap and threaded his fingers through hers.

  “I’m relieved to hear it,” she confessed.

  “Do you have any idea how grateful I am for how you’ve brightened up his life?”

  “I don’t want your gratitude, Xavier,” she said playfully, but her fingers squeezed his.

  “No. But you have it. And if you think I’m going to repay that by…”

  “There’s nothing to repay,” she told him. “Nothing.”

  He knew she meant that, but still. “I wouldn’t do anything without telling you first, Perry.”

  She screwed up her nose. “I guess that’s the most anyone can ask.”

  He smiled, then turned to look ahead. In the near distance, he saw Masonbrook. Jerking his chin at it, he murmured, “Almost there.”

  “Great.” She grunted. “I’m having a last-minute session with the dressmaker.”

  His lips curved in a smile. “You do know who the dressmaker is, don’t you?”

  “Luisa Raziona,” she said disinterestedly. “Marianne said she’s very good. Well, she is, considering how quickly she managed to sort out that travesty of a dress Marianne helped design.”

  “George told me,” Xavier murmured. “He was very unhappy with the state of it.”

  “He was unhappy? God, can you imagine how badly I felt? Even with as little fashion sense as I have, I know that dress was a disaster.” Her grin was sharp. “The new one looks gorgeous, but unlike Edward who’s eating more, I’m eating less. I’m nervous,” she admitted. “She keeps having to pin the waist in.”

  He sighed. “After this is all over, will you start watching your diet?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Is it terrible to admit I like being this skinny?”

  His lips twitched at her scandalized tone. “No, it’s not terrible, but it is a shame. You were beautiful the day you walked onto Veronian soil, and you’re still beautiful now. But all that matters is you’re healthy and happy with how you look, you got me?”

  “Capiche,” she jibed.

  “You going ‘Scarface’ on me to put your point across?”

  She laughed. “If that’s what it takes.” Perry let out a small sigh. “I promise though, I’ll start eating normally once this is all over. I’m trying not to let it get to me, you know?”

  “I do know. You’ve done a remarkable job of staying out of the arrangements, truth be told.”

  “Only because George has taken on a lot of the slack for me.” She shrugged. “I’m lucky.”

  “You are. Very. But then, most brides want to be involved.”

  “Not me,” she said cheerily. “I’m not that way inclined.”

  He chuckled at her choice of words. “What? Female inclined?”

  She scowled at him. “Just because I have ovaries doesn’t mean I have to like all the sappy stuff, thank you very much.”

  “No, true,” he conceded.

  She nodded, a little righteously as far as he was concerned. “I’ll be glad, on the day, that it’s beautiful. But it would be equally as beautiful in a small town hall with only you and George there for witnesses.

  “I’ve never been the sort of chick who gets emotional or teary-eyed over weddings. It’s just not in me. Still, some part of me must be affected, or I wouldn’t be this nervous.”

  “You know everything will be okay, don’t you? After, I mean.”

  Her smile came slowly. “I know it will be.”

  That smile had him settling back into his seat, ease flooding through him as he realized just how okay she was with the future, unorthodox though it may be, ahead of her.

  This path was fraught, he knew, but if they maneuvered it together, as a quartet, being each other’s strength when one was weak, they’d make magic happen.

  And magic was exactly what he intended to make with her.

  “To my daughter and my future son-in-law, may you have the love my wife and I have shared. May you find joy in the simple things of life. And may you never lose your path and be lost from one another.” Perry’s father, Nathaniel, peered down at the champagne in his hand like he didn’t know how it had come to be there.

  Considering this was the first time he’d probably ever held Veuve Clicquot, George couldn’t blame him for looking overwhelmed.

  Of the entire wedding party, only Janice and Nathaniel looked uncomfortable. Even Perry, who before him had been unsociable to the extreme, looked at ease at the table of sixteen.

  They were in a small restaurant that had been hired out to them for the occasion.

  It was his father’s favorite restaurant on the Madelan port, and the public knew and loved that he came here for the freshest fish from the best catch of the day.

  Giuseppe’s was a local legend that had been further canonized by the King’s patronage.

  When George had thought about where he’d like the rehearsal dinner to happen, he’d been able to think of no other place that could compete. He didn’t know Janice and Nathaniel, but from what he knew of her past, he knew Perry had been raised simply. Her childhood was honest and real as only that of a child reared on a farm could be. What was that phrase the Americans used?

  Salt of the earth.

  Honest and kind and decent.

  He liked the term if he was being candid. It summed up a lot, and though he’d barely had a chance to speak to Janice and Nathaniel thanks to the crazy amount of organizing he was having to do for the upcoming nuptials, he knew those adjectives summed them up to a tee.

  He watched as Nathaniel finally cleared his throat and looked over at Perry. George realized he was slow off the mark because Nathaniel’s eyes glistened with crystalline clarity, thanks to the tears pricking them.

  “I wish you well, Perry. I wish you happiness. And I wish you both a love-filled future. To Perry and Edward,” Nathaniel said softly, raising his glass finally. And as the rest of the table repeated the couple’s names, he took a sip and seated himself a few seconds later.

  George knew his mother had been a little frantic at the notion of two hillbillies being at the royal table, but she should have realized how impossible that was. Perry, though she may not have been a stickler for etiquette or courtly mannerisms, was polite to a fault. Her parents had bred that into her.

  Though they were both as wide-eyed as children wandering around the everything-is-edible room in Willy Wonka’s factory, they comported themselves with a decorum he was thankful for.

  They were quiet, polite, and eager to learn so as not to make fools of themselves. The latter saddened him. He felt their self-imposed pressure as he’d seen Perry adapt to it over the months. It had formed her, forged her, really.

  He knew his mother had wanted to bring the Taylors over earlier than five days before the ceremony was due to take place. She’d wanted to give them some basic etiquette lessons, but though Perry had extended the invitation, she’d predicted—and had been right about—their ultimate refusal.

  “A woman’s life on a farm doesn’t stop because her daughter’s getting married. Doesn’t matter if that daughter’s marrying a king or a pauper. Cows still need milking and fields still need tending.”

  She’d sounded incredibly Southern at that moment, and though his mother had been aghast at her words, George had been hard-pressed not to kiss her.

  An elbow dug into his side, stirring him from his thoughts. “Penny for them?”

  “They’re not worth so much,” he joked.

  “I’m sure they’re worth more,” Perry whispered as she tilted her shoulders to the side to allow the waiter to serve her meal without getting in his way.

  George had to smile at the gesture. Perry, future Crown Princess, would always be that way. Thoughtful, kind.

  It was a tiny gesture, but having see
n the old Crown Princess comport herself in public, well…

  Safe to say, for a woman who had no noble blood in her veins, Perry was a lady through and through in comparison.

  Not that he’d tell her that.

  She was already antsy.

  “You did good, George,” Perry told him when he didn’t reply to her scavenger hunt for answers.

  “You like it?” he asked, pleased that she did. “I knew you’d prefer somewhere like this to the palace.”

  She shrugged. “Feels a bit more normal, you know? Not like anything we just did was normal, of course.”

  He hid a grin. “At least the rehearsal went down well.”

  She grimaced. “If you can call that ‘going down well.’ I nearly tripped, forgot one of Edward’s names, and on the way back down the aisle, Edward had to stop me to remind me to curtsey before the King and Queen.”

  Her glum tone prevented him from hiding his grin any longer. “Chin up, buttercup,” he teased. “That’s why rehearsals happen. So you can make all the cock-ups now.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she grumbled.

  “Yeah. It is. Because it’s the truth. You won’t forget to curtsey, your dad is there to make sure you don’t trip like he did tonight, and Edward has far too many names to make missing one a problem.”

  She blew out her cheeks as she cut him a look. “Ya think anyone would notice?”

  “Probably the world, but hell, what do they matter?”

  She snickered and reached for her glass of wine. The sip she took was deep, and the sigh that came after was loaded with angst. He could feel her nerves throbbing through her, and guilt flushed through him. It could be said that today was the culmination of a lot of hopes and dreams on his part. And that wasn’t a lie.

  But he wished she wasn’t so nervous, wished that he could ease it for her.

  In this entire situation, though he’d maneuvered everyone around better than a Grandmaster played chess, he’d never wanted to hurt anyone. Jesus, if anything, he’d wanted the opposite. He’d wanted to make everyone happy.

  Give everyone a sliver of what they could only dream of if they went through with it.