Long Live Queen Perry: Contemporary Reverse Harem (Kingdom of Veronia Book 3)

by Serena Akeroyd

  Her three men were gathered in the sitting room of her suite—she thought of it as her suite because Edward was barely ever in the damn thing.

  After she’d returned from the funeral, she’d had a soak in the ridiculous bath that was probably part of the reason that Veronia was experiencing a drought, and had only now decided to get out of the water.

  She’d needed the bath, even though it had gone against every grain in her body to use it.

  Made for far more opulent times, it was the first interior bath in the kingdom, or so George had informed her, as Masonbrook had been ahead of the rest of the nation where indoor plumbing was concerned.

  The bath wasn’t like a modern one. It wasn’t plastic and molded. Constructed, it was, in many ways, like a small pool.

  If she hadn’t needed to finally get warm, she’d never have dreamed of getting into the damn thing. It was the first time she’d used it, and she hoped the last—even though it would probably make a pretty hot-shit birthing pool if, months down the line, that was the way she wanted to give birth. Because yes, she, Perry Taylor now DeSauvier, was going to be responsible for bringing life to someone.

  It was enough to scare the hell out of her.

  Still, water consumption aside, the bath had warmed her up. She could tell, however, by the way her three men were looking at each other, shady talk had been going down and they hadn’t included her.

  Again.

  Although…was it terrible to admit that she was reaching the point where she was glad they discussed things away from her? Maybe it was rotten, but she was only one person, and she could only take so much.

  She hadn’t been trained for this madcap life. She was a Regular Joe shoved into Prince Charming’s world. The two weren’t mutually incompatible, but at the moment, she was definitely feeling the strain.

  “We’re just talking about tomorrow,” Edward murmured, but though his face formed somber and serious lines, he beckoned her forward with his hand. She stepped toward him, grabbed his fingers, then sat on his knee when he tugged her onto his lap. He turned his face into her throat, breathed deeply, then murmured, “I’ve missed you.”

  Her throat closed at that. The words were heartfelt, and they stung all the more for that reason. “You jerk,” she whispered brokenly. “You’re the one who’s been going AWOL.”

  “I know, but I have to keep you safe.”

  “How can I be safe when you lock me out?”

  He nuzzled his nose into her throat. “I know. Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not. Just hurt.”

  “That’s the last thing I want.”

  “Well, stop pushing me away.” She lifted a hand and brushed her fingers through his hair. The silky locks clung to her digits and she shivered a little at the close contact. He’d been shoving so much distance between them, it was starting to feel like she was back in the States with the Atlantic Ocean between them!

  “I’m not really pushing you away,” he argued.

  “No, he’s just micromanaging.” Xavier cocked a brow at Edward, demanding he try to argue, but he didn’t. Just slumped deeper into the chair.

  She frowned. “You pay good people to do their jobs, sweetheart. Let them do it without you breathing down their neck.”

  “Easier said than done when your safety is at risk.” Though she froze a little inside, she warmed up when he placed his hand against her lower belly. “I’m just trying to make sure they realize I am quite willing to breathe down their necks when they’re showing such meager results.”

  “What’s happening tomorrow?”

  “It’s my first motion in Parliament.”

  “So why do you guys look so long in the face?” she asked, rubbing a strand of his hair between her fingers. She knew he used a standard brand shampoo. Nothing fancy. Nothing that combined ass’s milk with gold or some shit like that for his royal head. Nope, at their heart, her men were just that.

  Men.

  They might wear thousand-dollar suits, sit on thrones and have ceremonial dress that came out from time to time, but they were most definitely challenged in the way that all creatures with XY chromosomes were. They left the toilet seat up, dumped their towels on the floor beside the shower, and hogged the duvet come nightfall.

  While she knew those traits irritated the majority of the female population, truthfully, it charmed her.

  Of course it helped that staff picked up the towels, that her bathroom was cleaned every morning and evening by some wonderful fairy who she’d yet to see—she did, in fact, wonder if there was a secret entrance into her bathroom because every time she turned around, it had been cleaned without her knowing; the beds they slept in made tennis courts look tiny, so there was always ample room as well as excess covers…

  Still, what charmed her was the fact that they were normal. And in a world where everything was turbocharged, their average quirks were wonderful to behold.

  When she realized Edward hadn’t replied, she peered over at Xavier and George who were quiet, too. Staring into their whiskeys—the damn fine stuff she’d gleaned a taste for over the weeks, and seriously missed now—they were definitely somber.

  She tilted her head to the side, curious why they were so glum. Such expressions demanded she meddle. Whether she wanted to know or not, she couldn’t let them continue to muddle through their misery alone.

  “Come on, haven’t you learned not to keep things from me yet? It always comes back and bite you on the ass when you hold your tongues.”

  After a second, George’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “It’s not that we’re keeping anything from you, Perry.” When she snorted, he shook his head. “We’re not. We’re trying to talk Edward out of making a stupid decision.”

  “What kind of stupid decision?” she asked, curiosity driving her. She reached for Edward’s chin and gently moved him so he was no longer hiding his expression in her throat. “What’s going on?”

  “He wants to invoke Article 42.” Xavier’s tone should have had dramatic music flaring to life after he uttered his words.

  She’d heard a lot about this Article. Knew her men were concerned that Edward was going to use it if he didn’t get answers soon.

  “Why would you want to do a silly thing like that, sweetheart?” she chided, staring deep into his eyes, trying to find the source of this foolishness.

  “It isn’t silly,” Edward argued, and his accent on the word “silly” enchanted her.

  Sometimes, they spoke English so well it was hard to remember that Veronian was their first language. Speaking with them was like speaking with Oxford graduates—well, they’d studied at Oxford and Cambridge, so that figured—but their accents were pure British. Only from time to time did a bit of their birth tongue pop out.

  “We need answers, Perry. As it stands, we should have revealed your pregnancy to the nation, and instead, we’re hiding it because we don’t want to paint a brighter target on your back.”

  “While I appreciate that, Edward, I’d prefer not to be the catalyst for a constitutional crisis.” She pursed her lips. “I’m already going down as the Queen with the fastest coronation in history… let’s not add, ‘she made Veronia a dictatorship,’ to my list of crimes against future humanity.”

  “It wouldn’t be a dictatorship,” he grumbled.

  “It would be a damn close thing,” George argued. “You know the Article gives you complete power of authority over every aspect of government.”

  Her eyes widened. “Every aspect?”

  Xavier nodded. “Yes. That’s why it’s so dangerous. The Article itself is supposed to stop a dictatorship from rising within the ranks of Parliament. My grandfather saw how Hitler came to power, Lenin and his ilk, too. After the war, to protect the people, he crafted Article 42 for everyone’s sake. A King, in right mind and with support of his people, could trigger the protocol if he believed the state was at risk.”

  “Well, the state isn’t at risk.”

  “Isn’t it?” Edw
ard asked grimly. “You’re at risk, and you’re the future of the Crown. Wherever you go, you put the people at risk from attacks from a group of terrorists who are trying to destroy the monarchy, and don’t care who gets in the way.

  “As it stands, our four-strong security services are fucking useless. We’re barely gathering intel on these bastards, and we know for a fact there’s a leak. Whether it was Raoul Da Silva and/or someone else, they’ve managed to infiltrate our bases, which is one of the specifications for the invocation of the Article.

  “‘If the sovereign deems the protected councils of intelligence, be they Military Intelligence HQ or a newly established institution constructed in the future, to have been infiltrated by those rebelling against the natural peace of this fair land, then there is hope for the sovereign with the desire to protect the people from the tyranny of those who wish to do them harm,’” he quoted.

  She gulped. “Wow. That’s pretty intense. You’ve been reading it a lot, huh?”

  He snorted. “Ya think? It’s been on my mind.”

  “I can tell.” Her brow puckered. “Will it do us any good?”

  “That’s what we’re arguing, Perry,” George said softly. “It won’t. If MIHQ has been infiltrated, and the other security services have too, then Edward suddenly becoming a dictator isn’t going to make things better. If anything, it might make things worse. People who were dithering about being on the rebels’ side might decide the UnReals are right.”

  “For God’s sake, it’s not like I’m suddenly going to turn into Stalin! I just want tighter measures to protect us all, and Parliament is bloody useless! Our subjects might decide I’m in the right to invoke the Article. You saw how they supported Perry,” Edward argued. “They couldn’t have shown their love for the DeSauviers more after what those bastards did to Mother and Father.”

  “That doesn’t mean to say they want us to destroy their democracy!” Xavier countered, for the first time, his relatively relaxed tone turning aggressive. Perry noticed his hand tightened about his glass. “You can’t make something right by doing wrong, Ed. You’re a fool if you think so.” Nostrils flaring, he sank back his drink and got to his feet. “I’m going back to the estate. I have business there tomorrow. I’ll be at Parliament for your session, and I hope you don’t make the biggest mistake of our lives.”

  He got to his feet and made to walk past them, but Perry reached out to grab his hand and tugged him to a halt. “You’re not driving?” She eyed the glass still in his hand. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

  “One of my guards will drive me.”

  She nodded, then arched her neck and whispered, “Kiss?”

  His jaw clenched as he looked at Edward, upon whose lap she was still sitting. Then, he relented by dipping down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. She didn’t let him get away with that, though. Her arms curled about his neck, pulling him close, and ripping her metaphorical claws into him by opening her mouth and seducing his. She shivered as his tongue slid against hers, his breathing harsh as his free hand grabbed her knee to steady himself. She felt his fingers dig into the soft flesh of her lower thigh, felt the tips mold the skin slightly in response to the need she stirred in him.

  A soft moan escaped her as he fucked her mouth, burning all his rage, his anger on the kiss that scorched her senses. Set her alight.

  When she shuddered, he pulled free from her grasp, and shook his head like a dog who’d been thrown into a pool and had just scampered out of the water. “I have to go,” he said, his tone a mixture of urgency, plea, and desperation.

  She nodded, but her hand reached for his once more. “Just don’t leave in anger.”

  It was experience that prodded her to say that, and it was an experience that left her disheartened.

  Others might say that simply because they didn’t want anger between them and their loved ones…but Perry knew their lives were different.

  Between now, and tomorrow when Xavier would next see them, a lot could happen.

  A lot of it bad.

  She’d learned that. Had borne the brunt of that experience.

  God, she’d been so naïve before. So lost in a universe of her own making that revolved around the actual world, protecting it and learning how humanity was destroying it with their wasteful ways, but she’d known nothing. Not really.

  Becoming their woman had opened her eyes in a manner that made her wish they’d always stayed closed.

  This side of life wasn’t particularly pretty.

  If anything, it was damn ugly.

  Xavier shifted his attention to Edward, whose cock was prodding her in the ass. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Edward’s head tilted back against the sofa. “Meet here for lunch?”

  Xavier sighed, nodded. “Okay.” He cut George a look. “Night, guys.” With a final squeeze of Perry’s fingers, he retreated from the room, leaving George and Edward in a moody silence that had been turbocharged by their conversation, as well as the kiss they’d witnessed between her and their cousin.

  “Are you really going to trigger the Article?” Perry asked quietly, her gaze trained on the door Xavier had just closed behind him.

  She’d never seen him so angry. He was always chilled, so laid back that he might as well have been horizontal.

  Edward was like the North Wind. Could disappear for months on end, then in one sharp gust, had the power of chilling a room in an instant. George was a hurricane. Quick to anger, slow to stir, but unlike his brother, he blew hot, not cold.

  Xavier, on the other hand, had rarely displayed such a temper. And even now, when she’d seen it, she imagined he’d controlled a great part of it.

  Perhaps George sensed her curiosity, because he murmured, “Xavier likes to be in control.”

  “I gathered that.”

  “Well, our Uncle Sebastien had a frightening temper, Xavier abhorred that.”

  “Sebastien…like Cass’s son?”

  Edward nodded. “He’s named for him. Our families have always been close.”

  “Sebastien used to throw things when he was mad. One time, he hit a servant with a plate. Knocked the man out. It was accidental, Uncle hadn’t meant to cause the other man harm, he was simply in the vicinity. Xavier was there, and it shook him.”

  Perry’s mouth fell agape. “I can hardly blame him for being shaken!”

  George’s nose wrinkled. “No. Sebastien could be a bastard when the time came. The family compensated the footman, paid for all his care, and he’s still at the estate… Sebastien was just renowned for being volatile.” George shrugged, like it was a perfectly normal piece of information he’d just shared with her.

  She gawked at him. “You’re not justifying it?”

  “No, of course not.” He snorted. “But I’m not going to wear a hair shirt over it either. He was my uncle, but I wasn’t his keeper. It’s hardly my fault he was a prick from time to time.”

  Despite herself, she had to laugh. “No, I guess not.” She rubbed her cheek against Edward’s. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I call bullshit.” She pulled away and cocked a brow at him. “In fact, I call double bullshit. You two, in fact no, Xavier included—you three think you can pull the wool over my eyes. I know you too well. You can’t hide from me.”

  Edward’s lips twitched. “Who said I was hiding?”

  “Me. There’s no way you’re not stressed about tomorrow.” She prodded him in the belly with her finger. “But I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret. I know we have to be careful now, and I know…” She inhaled roughly because this was definitely the truth: “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not scared by what’s happening, but that doesn’t mean you should do something that’s atrocious for the country.

  “You have to protect everyone, Edward. Not just me and the baby.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Edward shook his head. “You’re all that matters.”

  “You can’t h
ave that attitude; you know that and I know it, too.”

  His lips pursed. “I can be however I want.”

  “No, you have to think about the country too, Edward. You’re more than just my husband. You’re the damn King.” She pressed her lips to his jaw. “I appreciate it though, don’t think I don’t.”

  “That’s my job, Perry. You’re my life.”

  The depth of sincerity in his words made her throat tighten. She wanted to hug him and squeeze him so damn hard so that neither knew where one of them ended and the other began…but she couldn’t do any of that.

  So, instead, she whispered, “Oh, Edward.”

  She hated that she sounded teary, but hell, how couldn’t she?

  That was some declaration.

  Of course, he had to spoil it by scowling at her. “Most people have a say in their jobs. If they don’t like it, they can quit.”

  “Yeah, I can attest that we don’t want Edward to quit, Perry. I’d make a suckier-ass King than he does,” George piped up from his armchair, and despite herself and the tears that Edward’s words caused, she had to let out a laugh.

  A watery one, albeit.

  She bit her lip. “Shut up, you,” she grumbled, but her eyes were sparkling as she turned her head to look at him. A shuddery chuckle escaped her when she saw that his gaze was half-lidded, a sensual heat burning within those crystalline orbs that scorched her from the inside out.

  “You like it when I’m snarky,” he retorted, crossing his legs at the ankles and slouching further down into the seat.

  Now that she thought about it, Edward and George mustn’t have been spared posture classes either. Because she rarely saw him seated in that way. He was always straight-backed and rigid in hold. Same when he was standing. He never had bad posture—was that from being in the Forces or from simply having Marianne for a mother?

  “I do like it when you’re snarky,” she agreed. “And you like it when I tell you to shut up because everybody else licks your ass.”

  He pursed his lips—she knew it was to hide his smile. “You offering?” he teased.