Unexpectedly Royal

by Jennifer Domenico

  “None.”

  “Explains a lot though.”

  “A ton.”

  She stands up, pretend waltzing around my tiny space. “It’s a fairytale. A modern day fairytale. You’re like fucking Cinderella.”

  Shaking my head, I sigh. “It’s not, Fallyn. Not at all.”

  She turns around to face me with her hands on her hips. “How can you say that? He’s a prince,” she repeats slowly, looking at me like I’m an idiot.

  Standing, I walk over to the window and gaze out into the darkness. She doesn’t get it.

  “Why aren’t you happy?”

  “God, Fallyn, don’t you get it? He warned me. He can’t marry or even date an American woman. Or anyone from another country. If his father dies, he’s gonna be the freaking king. He can’t come back here. He can’t choose me.” I hang my head as I’m consumed by the tears I tried to fight back. “It happened, Fallyn. I fell in love with him and he left. He might want me, but I don’t think that’s possible.” I look up, crossing my arms over my chest. “Now, what am I going to do?”

  “Okay, let’s just calm down for a minute. He gave you a commitment ring, Delaney. He gave you the cufflinks to hold. He promised to come back. Why are you jumping all the way to broken heart status?”

  I plop down on the couch. “He’s told me before how difficult it would be for him to pick someone like me.”

  “Difficult, not impossible. I can’t believe after everything you told me, that he’s just gonna bail. No way.”

  “What if they have some kind of arranged marriage planned? Like in Henry V, King Henry wanted to marry the Princess of France.”

  Fallyn crinkles her forehead. “What the hell are you even talking about?”

  “Shakespeare. They married people off all the time for the benefit of the family or the country. In real life too, Fallyn. Not just books.”

  Fallyn shakes her head. “Okay, like what year was that?”

  “That’s not important.”

  “Yeah, it is. Don’t you think Lathan would have told you about an arranged marriage? You are jumping to conclusions. Insane ones.”

  “I’m not.” I wipe my tear stained cheeks. “He wasn’t expecting his dad to die. He thought he had years, but all of a sudden, his duties kick in. Neither one of us has any idea what he’s facing right now.”

  “Exactly. That’s why you need to take a fucking chill pill, sister. Wait for him to tell you. Just because we know he’s a prince now, doesn’t necessarily mean anything’s changed.”

  I nod, trying to listen to her reason, but I can’t shake the feeling of impending doom I feel. “You’re right. I’m just scared that I finally found the one, and I’m gonna lose him.”

  She puts her arm around my shoulder. “I know, and I get it, but right now, you don’t know anything. You just have to wait for him to contact you.”

  I lean on her arm. “I’ll try.” It’s all I can do.

  The day after arriving home, I sit in my room overlooking the garden, and watch my mother’s dogs play in the sunlight. It’s so bittersweet to be here. Everything is as wonderful as I remember, but Delaney isn’t here, and without her, nothing can be perfect. Not even home.

  Hearing a knock, I turn to face the door. “Come in.”

  The door opens and Ophelia enters with baby Grace. “Cousin.”

  “Sweet, Ophelia.” I stand and walk to her, pulling her into an embrace. “Let me see this darling baby.” She hands Grace to me who kicks her legs and smiles as joyfully as her mother. “She is lovely. She has your blond curls and blue eyes. How old is she now?”

  “Seven months.”

  “Healthy?”

  “Perfectly.”

  I bounce the baby on my knee as she giggles. “She is heaven.”

  “I think so. Do you have time for me?”

  “Always.”

  Ophelia carries the baby back to her waiting nanny just outside my door then comes back, and we sit on the sofa in my sitting area.

  Ophelia takes my hand in hers. “How is your father?”

  “Better, but he still won’t see me.”

  “Even in this circumstance?”

  “He doesn’t care. My mother told me he thinks I abandoned my country.”

  “Oh, Lathan,” she pats my hand. “He is hurt.”

  “His pain hurts others.”

  “I know. It must be so difficult for your mother.”

  “Terribly. She’s cried every night since I’ve come home.”

  “She’s cried every night since you were gone too.”

  I sigh. “There is no making that man happy. He does not see my regret.”

  Ophelia smiles. “You have none.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Would you change anything that happened? Even with Gemma?”

  I consider her question. “No.”

  “No, and your father knows this. Any declarations otherwise ring false.”

  “So what do I do? I gave up a wonderful life in America to fulfill my duty, and he will have none of it. Perhaps I should go back and let Arlan take my place. I’ll abdicate.”

  Ophelia’s eyes open wide. “You will do no such thing. Arlan is not fit to run this country.”

  “And I am?” I stand, turning away from her. “I am no better a king than any man off the street.”

  “Untrue, cousin. The people love you, and that is all a king needs.”

  “I’m different now. Changed.”

  “Tell me how you’ve changed.” She stands, walking toward me. “Tell me.”

  “I don’t want this life anymore. I want to be free to do as I wish. Arlan does well with strategy and politics. He always wanted the attention and power. I want none of it.”

  Her eyes soften as she smiles. “Dear, cousin, this is your destiny. Since before you were born, you were meant to be the king. If Arlan should be king, he would have been born first. It is your throne that waits for you.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “You don’t want Havendon? This beautiful place with turquoise waters kissing its shores?” She steps in front of me so that I cannot avoid her questioning eyes. “You don’t want these people who have loved you since your mother first announced you lived in her womb? Loved you in spite of your youthful misgivings? Love you still? You don’t want this clean air, green pastures, breathtaking countryside?” Her eyes tear. “You don’t want me and Grace and all the people here counting on you for their future? You would turn your back on us. For what?”

  “For whom.”

  Her eyes open wide. “Oh, Lathan, is this about Delaney?”

  “Yes and no. It’s about freedom and the ability to live my life as I choose, with whom I choose.”

  “You can have Delaney if you wish.”

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “We both know that isn’t true.”

  “So she’s a commoner. You forget my mother was too.”

  “Your mother is Havendonian, sweet cousin. Let’s not forget the real issue. Delaney is not from here.”

  “I believe you need a history lesson.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Who rules this country?”

  I look at her blankly. “The king of course.”

  “Who makes the rules, the laws, the very customs?”

  “This is a silly game. The king does, Ophelia.”

  “Who are you?”

  “But a prince, not a king.”

  She smiles. “Not yet.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You make me crazy with this idea you have in your head. Don’t be so narrow sighted. You will be king, perhaps sooner than expected. You can marry your Delaney and have your Havendon. What could possibly be better? There cannot be anything in America. I would not believe it if you said there was.”

  I consider her words for a moment. Could I bring Delaney here? Would she even consider it?

  “She wouldn’t survive here.”

  Ophelia pats my arm. “Of cours
e she would with her own personal mentor. Someone to teach her the language, the customers, the etiquette. Someone to keep her company while her prince learns how to be a king.”

  “And who would be that for her?”

  “Me, of course.”

  I smile. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “It’s a brilliant idea. Admit it.”

  “I humbly do so.”

  “She can stay in Havendon House, far away from prying eyes, and I will visit with her every day until you’re ready to present her publicly. By that time, she’ll be a perfect replica of me. She’ll be a proper princess.”

  “Assuming I could convince her to come here, it would still be a challenge. I haven’t even told her I’m a prince yet, much less asking her to make such sacrifices for me.”

  “Does she love you?”

  “I don’t know. She hasn’t said so.”

  Ophelia tilts her head. “Does she need to say it for your heart to know the answer?”

  I bow my head for a moment. “I think she might.”

  “And do you, Lathan, do you love her?”

  “So much I would consider permanent exile to be in her arms again, though I’ve not told her either.”

  “Then you must go to her, beg her to come here, profess your love. Promise her you will guide her, care for her, protect her.”

  “I will think about it. I must first reason with my father to bring her here.”

  “The day may never come when he sees your reason. Instead, cousin, reason with your mother.”

  I nod. “Good advice.”

  “I’ll leave you now. Let me know when my services are required. I have a feeling they will be needed soon.”

  Laughing softly, I kiss her cheek. “Wonderful to see you as always. I missed you so.”

  “And I you.”

  After she leaves, I look down the vast hall toward my parent’s wing. If I have any chance of seeing Delaney again, I only have two choices. Leave everything I know or get her to come here. I hope Ophelia is right and my mother is in a reasonable mood.

  Days later, as I sit on the couch with a pint of cookies and cream ice cream, I watch the documentary for the third time. I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me. Does he think he can’t trust me? Wiping tears, in between bites, I reflect on all of our conversations about his family and his life and why it would be such a scandal to be with a foreigner. I thought he just lived in some kind of uptight place, but now, god, it’s so much bigger than that. His choices don’t just affect him. They affect his entire country.

  When my spoon hits the bottom of the carton, I set it on the coffee table and pick up my computer, deciding to search for information about Havendon. There isn’t much, just a Wikipedia page talking about their recent independence and listing the names and titles of the royal family. The freaking royal family.

  My phone rings, and I quickly grab it hoping it’s Lathan, but it’s not.

  “Hey, Fallyn.”

  “Hi. Just called to check on you. How are you?”

  Tears stream down my face. “Not good. I’m so sad.”

  “Hold that thought. You need ice cream and best friend time. I’ll be there in ten.”

  “Thank you.”

  After hanging up, I lay on my side, curled in a ball. I wish he would call. When Fallyn arrives, I get up just long enough to answer the door and then walk back to the couch as she follows me.

  “Want to talk?”

  I look up with tears in my eyes. “Why didn’t he tell me? I thought we were so close.”

  “Ah, sweetie, I know.” She kneels in front of me. “I don’t know why he didn’t tell you, but I’m sure he had a good reason.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like maybe it’s a security thing or something. I was doing some research on the British monarchy. They have all kinds of rules and rituals and stuff. When Prince William started dating Kate, the media and public when nuts speculating on everything. The palace had to get security for her even though she was a commoner.”

  “How is this applicable to me?”

  “Maybe he knows that’s what would happen to you if people found out he was in a relationship with you. Or maybe, if people here knew they had a prince among them, he would get hounded.”

  “No one’s even heard of Havendon.”

  “True. I’m just thinking of reasons why. It could be for your safety.”

  “I guess.” I sniff, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my robe. “He hasn’t called or texted or anything.”

  “Delaney, his father had a heart attack. What if he died? Lathan could be dealing with some heavy shit right now.”

  “I know, I thought of that, but if I was going through something like that, I would want you and him next to me at all times.”

  “He probably does want you, but consider how different his life is from ours.”

  I nod, as more tears fall. “I know I’m being a selfish bitch, but I’m so sad. I’m hurt he didn’t tell me who he really is. I’m hurt he hasn’t made contact since the day he left. What if he never comes back?”

  “He will. He promised he would. He’ll be back. I’m sure of it.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Me too.” She rubs my back. “How was work today?”

  “I didn’t go. I told them I have the flu. I just need a few days to, you know, to deal with this.”

  “I get it. Do you need some food?”

  “No. I have cookies and ice cream.” I look at the empty carton. “Had ice cream.”

  “You need better food.”

  “I don’t have an appetite. I’m just sick.”

  “Yeah, love sick. Listen, sweetie, based on what you told me about what he’s like, you have to believe that he’ll call as soon as he can. Something major is probably happening over there.”

  “Yeah.” I wipe my face again. “I guess.”

  “Let’s order some food and watch reality TV. We can hate on all the fake chicks. You fucking love that shit.”

  I laugh slightly. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Go wash your face. I’ll order dinner and hang out.”

  “Thanks.”

  As I pull myself up off the couch, I try to put the negative thoughts out of my head. I just don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t come back. He has to. At least to tell me why I wasn’t good enough to tell his true identity. At least to dump me to my face.

  Days later, I pace the hall in front of my father’s bedroom, having been called here. I’m as nervous as I could be, wondering what changed in his mind to actually see me. The large wooden door opens and my mother steps out.

  “Lathan,” she says, as she approaches me, smiling. Cupping my face, she gazes at me as though it’s the first time she’s laid eyes on me.

  “What does he want with me? He refuses to see me for a week, but now summons me?”

  “Things have changed.” Her eyes dart past me then back again. “Is there word of Arlan?”

  “No, Mother. No word yet.”

  “I’ve called him three times so far.”

  “He’ll come.” I hope so before he breaks her heart.

  “Yes.” She nods. “Well, your father awaits.”

  I clear my throat. “I am ready.”

  She leads me into his chamber where I see him propped up in bed. I have never seen him in such a weakened state, and I realize how much I longed for his company. I am forced to blink back the tears that fill my eyes. It would not do for a future king to cry, even if it’s because he missed his father.

  My father stares out the window, a passive expression on his face, until my mother speaks.

  “Our son.”

  He turns in my direction and I stand still, waiting to be addressed further.

  “Son,” he begins, his voice weak from his illness. “Come.”

  I walk closer, glancing at my mother as I do. She nods in encouragement. Standing at the foot of his bed, I bow slightly.

  “Father.”

&n
bsp; His eyes are cold, distant, and I realize with a sinking feeling he has not forgiven me.

  “I need to know if you are done with your exile and plan to stay in Havendon.”

  My mind races with possible answers. Yes. No. Only if she’s here. I decide on the only acceptable response.

  “I have no immediate plans to leave if my presence is required.”

  “Do you want to leave?” His eyebrow raises as he awaits my answer. My mother wrings her hands as she waits.

  “No.”

  “Good, because the time has come for you to fulfill your duty.”

  My mouth falls open. “Will you not recover?”

  “I am not expected to recover to any degree of my former self,” he explains. “I am told, I am permanently weakened by this event, and that my time on this Earth is limited.”

  My eyes shift to my mother who stoically fights her grief. She will not shed tears in front of me.

  “While I still breathe,” my father continues, “I must impart as much knowledge as I can to you so that you may carry on in my absence.”

  I don’t know what to say. My father is the strongest man I know. His heart, that he does not share with me, will be the very thing that takes him away from us.

  “I understand.”

  “Do you accept your duty?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Report here in the morning. We will begin the task at hand. You may go.”

  I start to walk away, but pause. He could die without knowing what I feel. Without knowing what I learned about myself. I won’t take the chance. Summoning every ounce of courage in me, I speak.

  “Father?”

  “I will not speak further.”

  “You will hear me.”

  My mother’s eyes open wide at my defiance as she steps between us. I move to the side, patting her arm.

  “You will hear me, Father, as your ears may not have another chance.”

  “Your words mean nothing to me.” He glares at me. “I will not listen to your empty apologies.”

  “I will not give them. You are right, Father, I regret none of my actions. Not one. I lived as I wished for as long as I could. Unlike you, I desired more than the walls of this castle could provide. Yes, I brought a level of shame to our name, but I am happy with my choices and humbly accept my future.”