The Inherited Series Book 1: The Inherited

by Lily Burlington

  "Bonjour, bonjour!" cried a man running towards us. He was middle aged, stout and balding. A tall brunette in a pencil skirt followed at his heels. "What an honor it is to have you here, Your Highnesses! I am the director of "Good Morning Dumasville" and this," he said, indicating the woman, "Is the host, Claudette." He smiled eagerly up at Leopold who did not look impressed before turning to me. "You must be Catherine," he said and taking my hand, he placed a wet kiss across my knuckles. I resisted the urge to wipe it on my dress because I figured that would be rude. Phillipa would not be happy with this man. I smiled at him.

  "The show will start soon and we will call for you when it is time. There is a room for you to wait in," he told us.

  Our person sandwich progressed through more hallways until we arrived at a door. Leopold and I were sent inside while M. Arsnault and M. Lefevre stayed outside the door. The room was standard and industrial. There was a gray couch against one wall and a table of food had been left for us against another. I plopped myself down on the ugly couch, in attempt to gain relief from my heels. Leopold stayed standing in an angry silence.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my tight dress. I was not accustomed to dressing like this, why couldn't I wear a nice loose suit like Leopold?

  There was a knock at the door and a man with a headset popped his head in and said something in French. Presuming it was time to leave, I began to rise to my feet. There was a loud rip behind me as I wobbled on my heels. I froze, horrified that my dress was suddenly a lot roomier than before.

  "Leopold," I hissed. He turned to face me, not amused, "Please shut the door." Leopold frowned but obliged, "Quoi?"

  I felt my cheeks heating up, "I think I just ripped my dress. Please just tell me how bad it is."

  Slowly, I turned until my back was to him. I heard Leopold trying to stifle his laughter behind me, "It is not good."

  Cringing, I looked over my shoulder. The dress, which ended at my knees, had split up the seam at the back of my dress all the way to the top of my thighs. Definitely not good.

  "Perhaps we could see if you could borrow something from Claudette," Leopold offered.

  "She is about a foot taller than me," I said staring at him. Then an idea came to me. "Give me your jacket," I said. Leopold’s brow furrowed.

  "Pardon?"

  "Your jacket please."

  Leopold shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to me. I quickly pulled it on. The hem came down to my mid-thigh, the sleeves eating my hands. I rolled them quickly to my elbows.

  "How do I look," I asked Leopold spinning.

  "Even better than before," he told me, indicating the door.

  The stage assistant, along with the rest of our crew, led us to the stage. Just before we were called out, Leopold swiftly slipped his glasses into the pocket of the jacket I was wearing. Then we were called out.

  The entire audience rose to their feet, screaming and cheering. I could feel my cheeks heating up as I carefully stumbled along behind Leopold. All of this attention was foreign to me; this entire situation was for that matter.

  Claudette came forward with a smile and curtsied. Leopold offered his hand, which she shook happily. The same was repeated with me. We were directed towards a couch that was beside a chair. Leopold sat, and then I followed, awkwardly tucking my dress underneath me and pulling the jacket close so I didn't flash the country. The audience followed our lead and took their seats, and then the interview began.

  I couldn't understand much of what was going on. Claudette and Leopold where talking way too fast. I sat on the couch beside him, smiling and waving occasionally hoping that I would look semi-decent. The bigger problem was that I didn't know how to act around Leopold. Weren't we supposed to be engaged or something? Shouldn't we be at least pretending to be close? I mean, we didn't even know each other, and he clearly had some issues or something, but shouldn't we at least fake it? I wasn't necessarily complaining that Leopold wasn't trying to put the moves on me; that would be awkward for once, and secondly, I would never really expect him to go after someone like me. He was a prince after all, despite how crotchety and arrogant he may be, and I was nothing, probably just a temporary distraction for the public like Felip had said.

  I looked away from Claudette, out to the audience and was confused. No one was looking at Leopold, or Claudette, all eyes were on me. I swallowed thickly. This was creepy. I edged closer to Leopold, feeling uncomfortable. He had rescued me from the horse; surely he could protect me from angry villagers. To my complete and utter surprise, Leopold reached out and grabbed my hand that was resting on the sofa. I froze, not sure how to respond. Maybe it had been an accident. Then his grip tightened in a reassuring squeeze. I glanced at him and my breath caught.

  His eyes were amazing; I could do nothing but stare. They were so strange. I realized that I had never really seen them before. He always hid behind the sunglasses. Leopold looked down to his lap, his face falling, our connection ending. He pulled his hand from mine.

  Chapter Four

  I was up on a pedestal covered in gossamer. The stupid fabric scratched at my legs and made it very awkward to move. Mme. LeBeche was making me some sort of big ball gown, as far as I could gather, but I wasn't quite sure what for. "Am I going to have to do this every time I need a dress?" I sighed, turning to M. Arsnault. The needles in the fabric pricked at my skin.

  "No, Mademoiselle. Mme. DuBeche is just unfamiliar with your measurements so she is using this as a reference point. Now may I continue?" said my guard. He was in charge of my lessons today. I was learning history because some important Governor from France was coming for dinner to meet me soon. The problem was that, by now, most of the facts were going in one ear and out the other. There were too many names and dates. Besides, how can I be expected to learn when I was being tortured by little pinpricks of pain every time I moved?

  "I guess so," I told him.

  "La Grande Rébellion occurred from 1523 jusqu'a 1545 when Leopold I was in power. The French had already captured most of Arcadis at this time and were planning on overtaking Solis next. The Solisians fought hard to help and protect their neighboring country, but Arcadis was, in the end, lost, and the royal family fled. The first battle that took place on the Islands was in 1540 when the French, led by…"

  The door suddenly flew open, cutting off M. Arsnault. Mme. DuBeche jabbed me in the ribs with a pin, apologizing profusely. Leopold walked in, and began talking to M. Arsnault.

  "Mademoiselle, the Prince requests your presence; we will resume our lessons later," M. Arsnault told me. I frowned, not completely sure how I should feel about this. I could either stay and be assaulted by pins and bored to death by lessons, or go to an unknown location with my not-entirely-mentally-stable prince. Then again, I wasn't sure if I could refuse. At least it got me out of this room.

  Mme. DuBeche freed me from the gossamer and I skipped out of the room on Leopold's heels. He took me to my room, stopping in front of the door.

  "I presume you are tired of all of these lessons, correct?" asked Leopold.

  I nodded.

  "Can you get to the foyer without anyone noticing?"

  I frowned, but nodded again, unsure of where he was taking this.

  "Meet me there in ten minutes. Change into some ratty clothing and try to appear normal." With that, he turned, leaving me standing in my doorway.

  With the briefest moment of contemplation and confusion, I decided to trust Leopold and changed into an old pair of torn jeans and a t-shirt, wrapping a scarf around my neck.

  As quietly as possible, I made my way through the corridors and slipped into the tourist filled halls. It was a long weekend for the locals and the main floor of the castle had been opened to the public for viewing. I pulled my scarf up to cover parts of my face and allowed my dark hair to curtain my face, trying to blend in with the crowd.

  I searched through the rooms for my prince. Looking for his curls, his tall, lean form, and his perfect posture and worried when I didn't
find him. I would have expected something to announce his arrival. A scream, a bow? Nothing.

  I felt a warm hand wrap around my wrist and whipped around swallowing a gasp. A tall boy stood in front me. He looked like an average teenager with poor posture. He wore baggy jeans that hung low off his hips and a black band t-shirt covered by a hunter green military-styled jacket. A black toque covered his hair, his eyes hidden behind huge aviator sunglasses and a scruffy pair of boots on his feet. He was handsome, but not who I was looking for. "Can I help you?" I asked when he didn't release my arm. I was hoping for dear God that he hadn't recognized me and that I wasn't going to have to scream bloody murder, alerting the guards to my presence and foiling whatever Leopold had been planning.

  The boy reached up with chipped fingernails, the leather bracelets on his wrist sliding into the depths of his sleeve, and pulled the glasses down his nose revealing one green eye and one gold. "No worries, it's just me."

  I sighed in relief. "Here," Leopold said, handing me a bundle of clothes, "Put these on."

  Without hesitation, I jabbed my arms through the arms of the leather aviator jacket and put the glasses on.

  Then Leopold took my hand and led me through the crowd that was gathered around various pieces of art and furniture. "Where are we going?" I asked, but Leopold didn't answer, just pulled me towards the front door. We made it outside, past the guards at the door and the guides and the parking attendants. We went down the giant white steps and across the cobblestone over to a motorcycle.

  I felt a smile stretching across my lips. "No way, a motorcycle?" I asked, as he passed me a helmet.

  "Please just get on, and do not refuse. I will explain soon," he ordered. I did as he said and jumped onto the bike behind him. There was no way I was going to say no to motorcycles or finally getting out of the castle for a while. I had been trapped in there for days now. Ever since the interview, I had been held up in various lessons.

  Leopold put the bike in gear and took off. I grabbed a hold of his belt, feeling the usual rush of adrenalin that I associated with being on a motorcycle. We drove through the square and across the bridge, whipping though the twisting streets of what I presumed to be the Old Town.

  I reveled in the feel of the sun against my skin and the wind whipping through my hair. This was the most fun I'd had in days. After a few minutes, we slowed down and Leopold parked the bike. We seemed to be in some sort of market. It was a big, open square surrounded by shops. There was a church at one end, an elaborate fountain in the middle and there were a whole bunch of stands and venders dispersed across the space.

  "It isn't much," said Leopold, "But I thought you might like to walk around for a bit. I remember how boring lessons used to be. Just don't mention it to anybody; they won't be happy I took you away from Mme. DuBeche and history with M. Arsnault."

  "You kidnapped me?" I asked surprised.

  Leopold smiled, "I just have to get you back before dinner or they will begin to get suspicious."

  This was strange, but at least I was out of the castle. We began to weave through the stands, looking at the different scarves, jewelry and flowers that were on display.

  "You must go in here," said Leopold directing me to a store whose windows were filled with chocolate. The inside was even better. There were millions of pastries, candies and chocolates covering every inch of the store. There was chocolate in every form conceivable: bars, truffles, cupcakes, drinks, ice cream, the list went on. We went up to the counter and Leopold ordered.

  "Have you tried the famous Solisian chocolate pastry yet?" he asked, handing me a gooey square. I shook my head and took a bite.

  "This is fantastic!" I told him. The outside was honey coated and flaky, kind of like a croissant. There was sugary powder on the top and chocolate drizzle. The inside was warm, milk chocolate that melted across my tongue.

  We continued walking as I ate, looking into the different shops. "So," I said after I had managed to work up the courage, "What made you want to break me out?"

  Leopold chuckled slightly, kicking a stone across the sidewalk. "My way of apologizing, I suppose. I have not been very welcoming to you, Catherine, and I realized that that was not right. You are here to try and help me and it is not fair to treat you so badly. I wanted to start again, from another foot this time. Would that be alright?"

  I smiled and stuck out my hand, "I would love that. Hello, my name is Catherine, but I prefer Cat."

  Leopold smiled, contemplating my hand for a moment. I realized, in horror, that I had broken one of Phillipa's rules and may have just ruined the new friendship Leopold had just offered but then Leopold pulled his hand out of his pocket and took mine, shaking gently.

  "It is lovely to meet you Cat, my name is Leopold."

  I liked the progress we were making here and decided to see if I could keep him talking. "So Leopold, what's your favorite color?"

  "I am increasingly finding myself attracted to the color brown," he told me. "How about you, Cat?"

  "It changes daily, but right now, I think it's green."

  Leopold nodded, thinking this over, "And how do you like it in Solis so far?"

  "I haven't seen very much of it, but it seems very beautiful."

  "I suppose you didn't get to see too much when you were screaming bloody murder on the cheval," he smiled cheekily.

  I blushed. "Thanks for that. Where did you learn to ride so well?"

  Leopold shrugged, "I've always enjoyed it. Comes naturally, I suppose. I play Canette as well."

  I frowned, "What's that?"

  "Canette? It is a sport. A little like, what you would call, football and polo together. You may see me play sometime; there is a game bientôt."

  Thunder rumbled through the sky suddenly. Leopold looked up, scrunching his nose. "We should leave."

  We started weaving our way through stands again, heading towards the motorcycle. "Eww, I hate rain," I muttered, as the first few drops began to fall.

  "You will adjust. There is much in Solis," said Leopold. The rain was falling heavily now and I was very glad for the leather jacket I was wearing.

  We made it back to the bike and took off towards the castle. I pulled myself close to Leopold, trying to hide behind his body so that I didn't get hit as hard by the offensive wet and cold.

  Leopold parked and I quickly dismounted. We ran back up the steps hand in hand as he pulled me through the crowd that was leaving. Like fish swimming upstream, we broke through into the foyer sprinting past the statues and paintings and up flights of stairs. We didn't stop until we made it to our hall. I was surprised when Leopold pulled me into his bedroom.

  I looked around as I leaned on my knees trying to catch my breath. It was very similar to my room, with all of the ornate furniture. It was slightly bigger though, and, on the far wall, had a door that led to a large balcony that overlooked the gardens. It smelled spicy, but vaguely of smoke.

  Leopold was running around the room mumbling in French. "Here," he said pushing clothes into my wet arms, "Go shower. Leave your clothes on the floor and I will deal with them."

  "I could just use my room," I offered, as I tried not to drip on his carpet.

  Leopold shook his head, "Angelique will be there and see you like this. We cannot have anyone finding out about our excursion."

  I decided to do as he said and went to his bathroom. Peeling the wet clothes off my body, I stepped into the shower letting the hot water sooth my muscles. I washed my hair with his spicy shampoo, getting out all of the rainwater. Finally, I stepped out of the shower and toweled off, pulling on the dark pants and cream sweater he had given me.

  I was beginning to realize that it was just better not to question Leopold's direction.

  Leopold was waiting for me when I came out, already showered and changed into a pair of chinos and a button down. The soaked clothes had disappeared. "Fini?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  "Excellent, car we must be…" Leopold was interrupted by a knock on
his door. "Oui, entrez," he called.

  The door was pushed open to reveal a concerned looking M. Arsnault and M. Lefevre. "Monsieur, nous cherchons Catherine," M. Arsnault began as he and his partner bowed. They glanced up, relief and confusion filling their eyes. "There you are, Mademoiselle. We were wondering where you had wondered off to."

  "She was with me, as I told you earlier," Leopold told them.

  "Of course, Monsieur, I apologize. La Princess is waiting for you in the dining room. She wishes to practice banquet behavior during dinner tonight as the King and Queen are occupied."

  "D'accord, nous partons maintenant," Leopold assured them.

  "There you are," cried Phillipa when we entered the dining room. I balked at the table. It was covered in countless kinds of plates, glasses and cutlery. Phillipa was sitting at the seat on the left of where Felip usually sat. There was a blond man in the seat next to her. Both stood when we entered.

  "Cat and I were occupied and just got news of your dinner now," Leopold explained.

  Phillipa pursed her lips, eyeing our wet hair.

  "Cat, this is Sir Hugo Hale," Leopold said, indicating the blond man, "Phillipa's boyfriend. Hugo, this is Catherine."

  "It is a pleasure to meet you," said Hugo, kissing my knuckles.

  "Please sit down, everyone is almost here," Phillipa told us.

  Leopold walked to the far side of the room and pulled out the chair across from Phillipa's, indicating for me to sit. I thanked him and took my seat. Leopold took the head of the table.

  "Why did we all change chairs?" I asked him, confused.

  "I think that Phillipa will tell you in a moment, but I believe she is trying to create a real-life situation. In a formal setting, the most powerful person," he said indicating himself, "Sits at the head of the table and the procession decreases from there. The second most important sits opposite him, followed by lesser positions. The people with the least power are situated in the center. Regularly, this leaves Felip and the rest of us at one end and the Prime Minister and the rest of the Governors at the other."