Royal Pain

by Raelyn Drake

  Of course she is, thought Noah. But maybe the butler had to follow a script for everyone who came to Rotherham Hall.

  They followed him into the library, where Noah saw his grandmother sitting in a chair next to a large fireplace.

  “Hi, Grandmother,” Noah said, giving her a little wave. He suddenly wondered whether he was supposed to bow.

  His grandmother broke into a wide smile when she saw them, which put Noah at ease. It was a smile he recognized—the exact same as his mom’s smile.

  “Cassandra, darling! And Antoine and Noah!” She rose to greet them.

  Noah had never met his grandmother in person, and he wasn’t sure if she was the hugging type or not. Luckily, he didn’t have to guess. She took his hands in hers, leaned forward, and gave him a peck on each cheek.

  His grandmother motioned for them to sit down on the other chairs around the fireplace. Noah noticed that she sat with her back stick straight, her legs crossed at the ankle and tucked under her chair. Even stranger, though, was the fact that Noah saw his mom sit like that as well. Usually his mom was the first one to snag the recliner at home. It was like she had flipped some switch from Cass Fuller posture to Lady Cassandra Valmont posture.

  Noah’s grandmother smoothed the skirt on her simple black dress. “It’s so wonderful to see all of you. And especially you, Noah. You’ve grown into quite the handsome young man.”

  Noah felt his face flush. “Yeah, it’s been great to finally see Evonia and start to learn about the family.”

  His grandmother raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, I forgot that you’ve only just learned about your royal heritage. And not a moment too soon. You enjoyed your ‘normal’ childhood in America, I trust?”

  Noah’s mom cleared her throat. “He certainly did, Mother.”

  “And what do you think of our beloved country?” Noah’s grandmother asked him.

  “It’s great,” Noah said. “All the ancient Evonian stuff is really cool.”

  His grandmother smiled wistfully. “One of your grandfather’s great joys in life was his study of the ancient Evonian culture. It makes my heart glad to see you following in Claude’s footsteps. I’m sure your mother has told you about the museum on the grounds?”

  Noah nodded. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  “You’re in luck, then, because I have something special planned for the museum. Right now, it is a private collection, but your grandfather always felt that the people of Evonia should have more opportunities to learn about their past. It was always his dream to make the museum a public institution.”

  “Isn’t the museum in your backyard?” Noah asked.

  His grandmother chuckled. “The ‘backyard’ of Rotherham Hall is quite extensive. Visitors will be able to come and go without disturbing my peace. And it’s what Claude would have wanted. At the end of July I will host a garden party to celebrate the grand opening of the Rotherham Museum of Ancient Evonian Artifacts. The party will be a fundraiser, and all donations will go toward educational programs and resources for the students of Evonia, so that they may learn more about the history of our proud nation.”

  “That’s very admirable,” Noah’s dad said.

  “If you are willing, Noah,” his grandmother said, “I would love to have your help in getting the museum ready to open. I’m afraid it is in rather rough shape right now. There will be some cleaning, yes, but I’ll also need help arranging the artifacts, creating the signs for the displays using the information in your grandfather’s old notes, and so on.”

  “That sounds like an amazing opportunity,” Noah said. “But July is getting pretty late into the summer. I mean, I guess I could stay that long if you really need me, but I was hoping to . . .” Seeing the look on his grandmother’s face, Noah stopped short of saying that he was hoping to go home sooner than that.

  Noah’s grandmother pursed her lips and shot a look at her daughter. “It was my understanding that you were all going to stay for the entire summer.”

  “Antoine and I will be here,” Noah’s mom said. “But we agreed that Noah could decide when he wanted to leave.”

  “I would have thought,” Noah’s grandmother said, “that Noah would want to spend as much time as possible in Evonia. After all, he will one day be the Duke of Rotherham himself—”

  “I’m still not sold on the whole duke thing, actually . . .” Noah stopped short again when he saw his grandmother’s expression. It was a lot easier to say that when he wasn’t being stared down by a seventy-year-old royal.

  His grandmother pressed her mouth into a thin line. “The Rotherham title is not a thing that can be cast aside on a whim. You are the only heir after your mother.”

  Noah almost wished his grandmother would shout at him. Her cold primness was somehow worse than an angry outburst.

  “Uh,” he stammered. “I’m not ready to commit to anything just yet.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Noah’s mom added more firmly. “We’re letting him decide.”

  The thin line of his grandmother’s mouth was growing even thinner.

  Behind him, Noah heard the library doors at the far end of the room swing open.

  His grandmother smiled suddenly. “I’m sure we will find something to make that decision easier for you.”

  Before Noah had time to wonder about his grandmother’s sudden change of mood and the scheming glint in her eye, she rose and gestured to the people who had just entered the library.

  “May I introduce Lady Annabeth Sharpe, Baroness of Colwin. No relation to the Valmonts, but the Sharpes are an old and prestigious Evonian family. And this is Victoria Fontaine.”

  Noah jumped to his feet and turned around.

  “Tori?” he said, recognizing her from the funeral.

  “Hi, Noah!” Tori said, eyes sparkling. “I figured I might run into you again.”

  “Annabeth and Victoria are going to be our guests at Rotherham Hall this summer,” Noah’s grandmother said. “I assumed Noah would enjoy having the company of people his own age.”

  “That will be great,” Noah’s mom exclaimed. “Antoine and I aren’t going to be around much.” And with a surprised look from Noah, added, “We’ll have to spend a lot of our time at the family’s legal offices in Alaborn to deal with all the paperwork of inheriting the royal title.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Noah,” Annabeth said, extending her hand. Noah took it, feeling a little awkward, but since she didn’t seem to be expecting a handshake, he let go again.

  “Likewise,” he said. “And please just call me Noah—no one else will.”

  Annabeth giggled. “Oh good! All the formal titles—Lady Annabeth, or Baroness, or Your Ladyship—they always sound so stuffy! My friends just call me Beth.”

  “And no one ever calls me Victoria,” Tori chimed in.

  “I don’t see why not,” Noah’s grandmother sniffed. “Victoria is a perfectly lovely name.”

  Tori smiled sweetly. “Of course it is. But it is also my mother’s name. So it saves everyone a lot of confusion if I go by Tori.”

  “Will your parents be staying here as well?” Noah’s mom asked.

  Tori shook her head. “They’re spending the summer traveling.”

  “Mine too,” Beth said. “Which is why we’re very grateful that Lady Octavia has invited us to spend the summer at Rotherham Hall. Otherwise I would’ve been so bored and lonely! I’m excited to check out all the hiking trails.”

  “And I can’t wait to see the museum again!” Tori said. “My parents were helping Lord Claude with the renovation,” she explained to Noah.

  “Oh yeah, the museum,” Beth sighed. But then her tone changed as she added “We agreed we would help get it ready for the wonderful garden party.”

  It wasn’t lost on Noah that Beth sounded more enthusiastic about the party than the museum.

  Noah’s grandmother clapped her hands together lightly. “I’m sure Noah and his parents would like a chance to see their rooms and take a coup
le of hours to relax and refresh. I’ve arranged for luncheon to be served at one o’clock in the main dining room.”

  4

  Noah was grateful for the chance to have a moment to himself. He was beginning to feel the effects of jet lag. He took a nap, then showered and looked through his clothes for something to wear to lunch, or “luncheon,” as his grandmother had called it. He wondered what the dress code was for a luncheon.

  He dumped the contents of his suitcase on the bed and sighed. He had brought one suit for the funeral, but that seemed too formal for a private meal. On the other hand, since he hadn’t been planning on staying more than a couple of weeks, the rest of his clothes were all casual. After debating for a minute, Noah put on his funeral suit again, trying his best to smooth out the rumpled fabric.

  There was a knock at his bedroom door.

  “Come in!” he called, focused on trying to knot his tie.

  “Your grandmother is not going to be happy if you try to wear that to lunch,” his mom said as she popped her head into his bedroom.

  Noah stared at the reflection of his lopsided tie knot and frowned. “I don’t really have any other options,” he muttered, pulling out the knot to start over again.

  “Have you checked the closet yet?” his mom asked.

  Noah paused. “No, why?”

  “Your fairy godmother wanted to make sure you had something nice to wear to the ball.” His mom grinned. “By which I mean your grandmother asked me for your measurements and bought you an entire wardrobe to get you through the summer.”

  Sure enough, the closet was full of clothes. Slacks, button ups, sports coats, and at least fifteen different suits in varying colors and styles. All of which looked nicer than anything Noah had ever owned.

  “Wow,” he whispered.

  His mom smiled. “Why don’t you change? You’re probably going to want one of the less formal suits. Open collar, no tie. Perfect for a summer luncheon.” She turned to leave. “Oh, and your grandmother also insisted on buying you all the accessories you could ever need: cufflinks, ties, bowties, watches, even sunglasses.” His mother gestured to the drawers on either side of his closet.

  Not long after, Noah walked briskly toward the dining room. He had gotten distracted trying to decide which of his suits would be considered less formal, and now he was running late. His grandmother did not seem like the sort of person who tolerated lateness.

  Noah burst into the dining room at one minute past one, according to his new watch.

  His grandmother smiled at him from her place at the head of the dining table. “How nice of you to join us, Noah. We were about to send out a search party.”

  His parents, Beth, and Tori were already seated. The dining table was long, and there were a few different open chairs. Catching his breath, Noah ignored his grandmother’s comment about his tardiness, and went to sit in the open spot by Tori.

  “Noah, darling,” his grandmother called. “I think you’ll find that the place settings are labeled with name cards. You are supposed to sit next to Annabeth.” Noah’s grandmother stared intently at Beth.

  Noah paused, halfway into his chair, and looked across the table to Beth, who flipped around the place card with his name on it. She shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

  Noah cleared his throat. He walked down one side of the incredibly long table and back up the other in awkward silence. Beth beamed at him as he took his place next to her. He snuck a glance at Tori on the other side of the table. Tori suppressed a smirk and darted her eyes to the side like she wanted to roll her eyes but didn’t dare.

  Noah thought it was a bit odd that his grandmother had set out place cards for a small family lunch. But, he decided, it was probably just one of those silly rules of royalty. He would have rather sat by Tori and talked with her about his grandfather, but Beth seemed nice enough.

  One wall of the dining room was lined with glass French doors that opened out onto a paved terrace overlooking the grounds behind the house. Noah could see why his grandmother had laughed when he used the word “backyard.” Beyond the terrace railing, the perfectly cut lawn seemed to go on forever under the pale blue sky. Near the forest that surrounded the grounds, he could see a line of tall hedges and a brick building about a third of the size of Rotherham Hall.

  “That’s your grandfather’s museum,” his grandmother said, as if reading Noah’s thoughts. “It’s a little on the small side, but I think we’ll manage. It used to be a guest cottage.”

  Noah raised his eyebrows but didn’t say what he was thinking—that the guest cottage was bigger than his house.

  Octavia rang a delicate silver bell, then placed it back down on the table next to her crystal water goblet.

  At her signal, a number of servants entered the room carrying bowls of soup, which they placed in front of the diners. Noah turned to say thank you like he would to a waiter at a restaurant, but the servants had already glided back out of the dining room.

  Noah stared at his soup, and felt slightly puzzled. The bowl was cold, and the contents looked more like salsa than soup. He wanted to ask what sort of dish it was, but he seemed to be the only one who wasn’t familiar with it—even his non-royal father looked at ease—and he didn’t want to embarrass himself.

  Beth nudged him slyly with her elbow. “It’s gazpacho,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “A cold vegetable soup.”

  “Oh, of course, I knew that. I’d recognize it anywhere,” Noah said in a sarcastic whisper back.

  Beth suppressed a giggle and Noah gave her a grateful smile.

  The gazpacho not only looked like salsa, it tasted like it. But once he got over how different it was, Noah found that he didn’t mind gazpacho.

  The soup course was followed by two more courses, each one more elaborate than the last. Noah was worried about all the rules of proper eating, but not enough to ruin his appetite. Everything tasted delicious. Still, he was thankful that Beth subtly pointed out which fork to use for each course. It made things considerably easier without drawing attention to his lack of experience with fine dining.

  When the servants returned a fourth time carrying covered silver dishes Noah groaned jokingly. “I’m stuffed,” he whispered to Beth. When the dessert course turned out to be strawberry shortcake with freshly whipped cream, he added, “But somehow I think I’ll manage to carry on.”

  Beth laughed. “A four-course luncheon is nothing. To be honest, I’m surprised your grandmother left out the salad course.”

  “If a lunch can have five courses, I shudder to think of what dinner involves.” Noah took a bite of his dessert. “Although, if all the courses are this good, you won’t hear any complaints from me. I never eat like this back home.”

  “I’ve always wanted to visit America, you know, but my parents always insist on vacationing in France,” Beth said. “So tell me—what’s it like living in America?” Tori looked up at him too, clearly interested in what Noah had to say.

  The question caught him off guard. Noah had never really thought about the United States as being any different than other places. “Uh, just like the movies, I guess. Only with fewer spontaneous dance numbers and flashy race cars. I’m much more interested in hearing what life in Evonia is like. I still don’t know that much about the country, really.”

  “It’s absolutely lovely here,” Beth said. “In my opinion, this country is—”

  “It’s just like the movies,” Tori cut in. “Only with fewer submarines and a lot less yodeling.”

  Noah snorted, then tried to turn it into a cough when his grandmother shot him a disapproving look from the head of the table.

  “She’s joking of course,” Beth explained.

  “What a shame,” Noah said. “I really only came to Evonia for the yodeling.”

  It was Tori’s turn to try to hide her laughter. Beth’s laugh sounded a little forced, as though she wasn’t quite sure she got the joke.

  “I hope that our natural Evonian charm and good
looks can make up for our lack of yodeling,” Tori said, staring at him over the rim of her glass.

  Noah smiled at her. “I think they will,” he said. Then he realized he was holding Tori’s eye a little too long and went back to his dessert.

  5

  After a solid twelve hours of sleep, Noah was starting to feel refreshed after the stress of all that had happened the past week. He was prepared to lie in bed for another hour or two when he realized that his grandmother might have certain expectations of when he should be up in the morning. He stood in front of his closet, stretching sleepily and trying to figure out what he should wear. The suit he had worn the day before had been so expensive looking that he had felt self-conscious wearing it. He planned to spend the day exploring the grounds, and he wanted an outfit that he didn’t have to worry about getting dirty. He looked through all of the clothes his grandmother had bought him, before coming to the conclusion that royalty didn’t think of casual clothes in the same way he did. Feeling slightly reckless, he picked an outfit from his suitcase. But he couldn’t resist grabbing a pair of sunglasses from the drawer before he went downstairs.

  He found his parents out on the patio that opened up off the dining room. Luckily, his grandmother didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight, so he didn’t have to face her disapproval of his outfit choice just yet.

  His mom was reading the newspaper, while his dad browsed on his tablet.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Noah’s mom said brightly.

  “This is early for you,” his dad said, checking the time. “We never see you up this early back home.”

  Noah shrugged and plopped down on the chair next to them. “I think my sleep schedule is still out of whack from the time difference.”

  After a little while Noah noticed that the newspaper his mom was reading wasn’t in English. He tilted his head to get a better look at the words. “I didn’t know you spoke French, Mom.”

  “I’m a bit rusty, I’m afraid,” his mom said. “But French and German are two of the official languages of Evonia besides English, so I need to brush up on my skills.”