Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5

by McKenna James

  I gave him a genuinely apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Don’t worry about.”

  “Still, that’s amazing! I hope you finally get that promotion.”

  He nudged me in the ribs with the point of his elbow. “A recommendation from Her Royal Highness couldn’t hurt.”

  I giggled. “We’ll see. I’m pretty sure old Bonette would ignore it either way.”

  Brandon and I entered into one of the many hallways that led directly from the palace’s private quarters to the main hall. As we approached, the sound of orchestral music, joyous chattering, and boisterous laughs grew louder and louder. The lights in this particular hallway had all been dimmed, sectioned off with a red velvet rope and a royal guard at each post to keep guests from wandering off where they shouldn’t. The guards dipped their heads out of respect once I drew near, standing at attention.

  I could already smell the delicious five-course meal Chef Bonette had planned for us. The scent of bright mint, rich chocolates, and a combination of rosemary and thyme filled my nose. I made sure to eat a little bit before the ball, having learned from experience not to go to these kinds of events on an empty stomach. The last thing Mother wanted was to find me stuffing macaroons down my throat behind the thirty-foot pine tree in the corner of the reception area like she had when I was sixteen. It took me literal months to get over the embarrassment, and Brandon’s playful, yet constant teasing certainly didn’t help.

  “Six whole of hours rubbing elbows with old people,” I sighed. “Wish me luck.”

  “Six whole hours under Bonette’s scrutinizing eye,” he mumbled. “Wish me luck.”

  I hopped up onto my tiptoes to place a quick peck on Brandon’s cheek. “Good luck. You’re going to knock them dead.”

  “Thanks. Good luck to you too.”

  It was an easy enough task to find Father and Mother in the crowd of three-hundred. Even in costume, Father looked every ounce a king. Even though he was getting on in years, he still stood with a straight back and incredibly strong shoulders. His hair was still thick, though it was beginning to grow white at his temples. Father had chosen to dress up as a train conductor, though the sparkling bejeweled rings wrapped around each of his fingers would suggest he was one who was very well-off. What kind of train conductor could afford such a fancy suit?

  Mother was dressed in a pretty black evening gown with a foot-long train. The fabric of her dress shimmered as she moved, little crystals woven in to give the illusion of starlight. Her long blonde hair was done up in a voluminous bun, several ornate pins threaded through her locks. She had on a silver mask in the shape of a crescent, obscuring one half of her face. Mother had told me earlier that she was going as something grand. I didn’t know her intention was to dress up like the night sky. She looked radiant, but a bit stiff. I couldn’t imagine dragging around a heavy dress like that.

  Mother beckoned to me with a finger, wearing a coy smile. “And what are you supposed to be, darling?”

  I did a little twirl, the skirt of my dress flowing about like it weighed nothing at all. “I’m Marie Antoinette,” I said. “I found an old painting of her in a dress similar to this in one of my books and–”

  “Oh, look who it is, Marina,” Mother cut me off. She held her hand out to the young man dressed as a fighter pilot, who promptly placed his lips on the back of Mother’s knuckles. “You remember Alexander, don’t you? Duke of Wilcher.”

  I fought every urge to roll my eyes. It hadn’t even been ten minutes, and Mother was already trying to push eligible bachelors before me. There was nothing extraordinary about the man. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t even be able to pick the guy out of a lineup. His face was round, his brown eyes were almond-shaped, and he had a bit of a double-chin going for him—hidden beneath a thin chinstrap beard. I managed a small curtsey, just to be polite.

  “I remember,” I mumbled under my breath. “He used to pull my hair when we studied together with Tutor Marshall.”

  Mother giggled nervously. “Now, now, dear. The past is the past.”

  Alexander snatched my hand in his greasy palm and stamped a sloppy kiss on the back of my knuckles. “Princess Marina,” he said, nasally and higher in pitch than I was expecting. His mouth hung open slightly, the scent of garlic resting on his tongue. “Good to see you again.”

  “It’s been so long,” Mother said on my behalf. She turned to me and jerked her head in his direction. “Hasn’t it been so long, darling?”

  “Yes. So long.”

  “I hope you’ll consider young Alexander for your first dance this evening. Wouldn’t that just be splendid?”

  I gave Mother a tight-lipped smile but said nothing. I really didn’t feel like dancing with mouth breather over here. Thankfully, Father swooped in before I had to come up with a response.

  “You look a little parched, dear,” he said, voice low and grumbling and authoritative. “Why not help yourself to some punch? We’ll be getting the evening started shortly.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  I very happily moseyed on over to the refreshments table that was lined up against the far wall, more than grateful that Father granted me an escape. He was just as eager as Mother to find me a suitable husband, but Father and I thought alike. One look at Alexander, and we knew he wasn’t husband material. Besides, I didn’t feel ready to get settled down. I was turning twenty-three in January, but that seemed far too soon to put a ring on it. What happened to being an independent woman? Just because I was next in line to the throne, that didn’t mean I had to rush into things before I was ready.

  A banquet attendant served me bubbly pink fruit punch in a slim crystal glass. A couple of older guests, members of parliament, tried to work up the nerve to come over to speak to me, but I was quick to turn away or look preoccupied with something. The only reason people ever wanted to talk to me was in an attempt to gain my favor. I had the ear of the King, so those looking to find some political leverage naturally gravitated toward me. I’d learned long ago that a princess couldn’t really have friends. In this day and age of social media and gossip magazines, carefully protected secrets could easily be sold for the right price.

  It didn’t always use to be that way. I once had a dear friend whom I thought the world of. But he’d long since moved on, no doubt living his life to the fullest while I remained hidden away in the palace, counting down the days until it would be my turn to sit on the throne. I sometimes thought about him from time to time, wondered what kind of adventures he got up to. He talked about becoming a lawyer, determined to help those in need and uphold the rule of law.

  I managed to find a wonderful little hiding spot next to the tree Father had the servants bring in. Golden tinsel wrapped around the entirety of the tree, delicate red and gold ornaments hanging off of every branch. Beautiful fairy lights spiraled upward toward the brilliant golden star sat atop the tree, but it wasn’t alight. That honor came on Christmas Day when the whole household joined together to celebrate. Beneath the tree sat a massive collection of gift-wrapped boxes, presents for all the palace’s employees from the King.

  Father clapped his hands twice, the sound echoing off the tall ceilings. Multiple frescoes had been painted into the space above, highlighting important historical moments in the history of Brooklandia. The art project had been commissioned by my great-great-grandfather, but there was really no way to tell how old the pieces were because of their pristine condition. A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes fell upon my father.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “welcome to this year’s Midnight Magic Ball. As we enter the holiday season, let us remember all the good that we’ve accomplished together, as well as all of the hard work and sacrifices we’ve made in the name of the kingdom.” Father raised a glass full of champagne. His honored guests mimicked his motion, holding up their own beverages. “Let us keep our soldiers on the Allendesian border in our hearts and pray that we can bring them home to their loved ones soo
n. Cheers!”

  “Cheers!” the guests echoed loudly, promptly taking sips of their drinks.

  “Now,” Father continued as he gestured toward me. I had no idea how he managed to pinpoint me and my hiding spot. “As is tradition, Princess Marina has the honor of asking a partner of her choosing to the first dance of the night.”

  I inhaled slowly through the nose and tried not to look uncomfortable beneath everyone’s attention. I scanned the room to find someone to dance with. Most of the men here were already taken or too old for my liking. Mother gestured toward Alexander in the most indiscreet of fashions, but I pretended that I didn’t see.

  Push come to shove, I could always ask Brandon to dance with me. He was standing by the dessert station, busy at work restocking display trays full of sweet treats. I supposed there weren’t any rules that said I couldn’t ask one of our house attendants. After all, I was the one who got to choose, and as my best friend, he’d probably be willing to do me a solid. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, though, and I knew how important running his own station was to him. It was probably best if I didn’t distract him from his work.

  Somebody beside me cleared their throat, extending a white-gloved hand toward me. I turned slightly to get a better view. I hadn’t noticed anyone standing there, and now that I had a good look, I had to question if I must have been blind not to see him before. Standing before me was an incredibly handsome man dressed up in a shiny white suit of armor. The material looked surprisingly light, its edges lined with a brilliant teal that brought out the dazzling blue of his eyes. The man’s face was obscured by a masquerade mask—similar in design to the one I was wearing—but his sharp jaw, smooth lips, and the gentleness of his eyes were apparent.

  “Princess Marina,” he said, voice as smooth as velvet and thick like honey. It was mesmerizing, really. Part of me wanted time to stand still so that I could savor the way my name rolled off his tongue, almost as if he’d rehearsed it a million times before. “If I may be so bold, might I have the honor of this dance?”

  My heart momentarily skipped a beat. This guy really was bold to ask me for a dance. Was he a new politician I hadn’t met before? I didn’t even know his name. I was more than aware that people were staring, though, so I didn’t have time to ask. It was either this stranger or the Duke of Wilcher whom I could just barely tolerate.

  I placed my hand in his, taking a second to admire how strong and big his palm was. The rest of the guests erupted into applause as the knight led me to the center of the room, which was now clear. My heels clicked against the polished marble tile beneath me as I easily placed my left hand on his shoulder and grasped his right with my other. My heartbeat picked up when we took our first steps to the flowing music of the waltz. His body was warm against mine, sturdy in a way I had difficulty describing. His frame was perfect, supporting me as his canvas with ease and grace.

  A felt a smile stretch across my lips as we moved about. It was easy to follow his lead, easy to trust him with the next steps we’d take.

  “Where did you learn to dance like this?” I asked, allowing myself to lean in a little closer to whisper in his ear. He smelled nice, like rosewood cologne. It wasn’t overbearing, just warm and pleasant and all-around delightful.

  The knight chuckled. “My mother insisted I take lessons at an early age. She said all gentlemen should know how to sweep a woman off her feet.”

  A giggle bubbled past my lips, a light sensation in my chest making me feel lighter than air. “Wise woman,” I hummed.

  “I like to think so.”

  A few more couples joined us on the dance floor, including the King and Queen. In my peripheral, I was made aware of Mother’s eyes on me and the stranger. I was too entranced by the knight’s sparkling baby blues to really focus on anything else.

  “So, what are you supposed to be dressed up as?” I asked.

  “Your white knight, of course.”

  I giggled again, head a little dizzy with all the spinning we were doing. It was a good dizzy, an elated one. “My white knight? I don’t think I’ve ever had one before.”

  The smile he wore was amazing, a little crooked but charming all the same. We continued to dance about the room, the tiles beneath my feet, transforming into delicate clouds as we allowed the soft violin music to drown out everything else.

  “If I haven’t said so already, I really like your costume,” he said after a moment. “Marie Antoinette, right?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I stumbled across an old book about the fashion of the time period and saw a painting of her in something similar.”

  If my pulse hadn’t already been racing, it was now. “You’re interested in historical fashion?”

  “More history than fashion, but all aspects of the past interest me.”

  “Why does a handsome young man like you have an interest in history of all things?”

  “I think it’s important. How else are future generations going to learn from past mistakes?”

  “Looks and smarts? You’re so full of surprises.”

  “I aim to please.”

  “I really must thank you for showing up when you did.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Princess Marina. I wouldn’t want to dance with the Duke, either.”

  The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering about, filling my core with rising heat. I hadn’t felt this excited in a long time. Every time I looked into his eyes, something sparked in my chest, threatening to set my whole body on fire. There was just something about his gaze, something familiar and warm, but I couldn’t quite place it. When he looked at me, I could ignore everyone else at the party. It was just he and I, dancing to the music while braced in each other’s hold. But that didn’t stop the quiet curiosity that was beginning to build up in the back of my mind.

  Who exactly was this man? Was there something he wanted from me? If my suspicions were right and he really was a new politician serving under my father, I had no doubt in my mind that he would use our encounter to further his own agenda. Honest people were difficult to come across in the world that I lived in.

  “Tell me,” I cleared my throat, tilting my head up to get a better look at him. His mask made it impossible to gather any more details, effectively disguising his identity from me. “What’s your name? I don’t think we’ve even been properly introduced.”

  He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You know who I am, Princess. We’ve known each other for a very long time.”

  A sense of confusion briefly washed over my mind, a cold bucket of ice water against my warmer, hazier thoughts. “I really don’t,” I argued.

  “No?”

  “You’re costume’s too good.”

  “Ah, you can thank our mutual friend Oliver for that.”

  “You know Oliver?”

  The knight nodded. “Yes. I actually invited him here tonight.”

  “He’s here? I’ll be sure to say hello.”

  “I think he’d like that. Though I think he’s preoccupied with that pâtissier over there.”

  He spun us around so that I could take a glimpse over his shoulder. Standing next to Brandon was a tall man in a loud suit of the most audacious black and gold patterned fabric, along with a red ribbon to hold up his shoulder-length brown locks. Only Oliver Smith could pull off a look like that. We were too far away for me to overhear their conversation, but whatever they were discussing had brought a bright red hue to the tips of Brandon’s ears. He looked simultaneously amused and embarrassed, something I’d never seen before.

  “They look like they’re hitting it off,” I quipped.

  “Hopefully, they’re not the only ones,” he said, throwing me a quick wink through his mask.

  I almost tripped because of it, too distracted at the fire pooling in my cheeks. Luckily, the knight had a very stable hold of my hand and the middle of my back, saving me from taking a humiliating tumble.

  “You still haven’t told me what your
name is,” I protested just as the first song of the night was coming to an end.

  We took a step apart to bow to one another. He dipped low, sweeping a hand before him before looking up to smirk at me. “You know my name.”

  “Playing coy, are you? I could just order you to tell me.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “Because that’d be too easy.”

  Someone tapped on my shoulder from behind. When I turned to find the Duke of Wilcher standing there, an expectant look in his eye, I almost took a step back to save my nose from his terrible body odor. Had he not showered before coming to the ball? Or was being around so many people making him sweat profusely, working up a stink before the night had even begun? I fought against the urge to crinkle my nose.

  “I want the next dance,” he barked, more to the knight than me. Either way, it was hard not to feel indignant at his forceful tone.

  The knight placed a gentle hand on the small of my back, sending a shiver slithering up my spine. “Princess Marina has just informed me she’s not feeling too well. Shall we get some fresh air on the veranda, Princess?”

  The electric excitement that had been bottling up inside my chest since the start of the dance was about to burst. Was this knight in shining armor really saving me yet again? I could hardly believe my luck. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know his true identity yet. Anyone who was willing to save me from the clutches of the Duke was aces in my book.

  I fanned myself dramatically with a hand and swallowed. “Oh, yes. Some fresh air would be lovely.”

  The Duke of Wilcher opened his mouth to protest—his teeth stained yellow from years of plague buildup—but the knight quickly guided me away before he could get a word out. Much to my relief, Alexander had better sense than to follow.

  It didn’t occur to me until after we arrived on the veranda that the knight knew exactly where he was going. I thought it a bit suspicious that he already knew his way around the palace. Granted, the veranda wasn’t too far off, easy to spot from the main reception hall. Perhaps he’d spotted it before and made a mental note of it.