by Vicky Savage
“The prince is said to be very good with the ladies,” she says. “Maybe you will like him.” She brushes some mascara on my lashes, swipes a little blush on my cheeks, and gloss on my lips. Finally, she dabs perfume on my wrists and neck, and then sends me to my closet to put on my under things.
“You will not need a bra tonight,” she calls to me.
Huh?
Maria carefully holds up the lavender dress for me to step into. I wince when I see myself in the mirror. The fabric is exquisite, but it has a deep V neckline that shows a dangerous amount of cleavage.
“My mother wants me to wear this? Are you sure?”
“Yes, she selected it herself.”
“But what if I, you know, fall out of it?”
“We’ll make it a little more secure here,” she says pulling the plunging neckline in a little. “I’ll pin it for you.” Her handiwork makes me slightly more confident that I won’t have a wardrobe malfunction at dinner, but I still feel a little bare.
“The queen has sent you her amethyst necklace to wear,” Maria says brightly. She opens the third box and removes the necklace. Oh momma! It’s the most incredible piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen. It is made of platinum, with a trail of mega-diamonds running down each side and an enormous, pear-shaped lavender stone at the center.
“You will need to take this off.” She points to Ryder’s necklace.
I don’t want to take it off, even for an evening, but I don’t want to have to explain it to my mother either, so I pull it over my head and lock it securely in my jewelry chest.
The amethyst necklace fits perfectly into the deep V of my gown, and I look regal in spite of myself. I may be ready on the outside, but my insides have turned to mush. I feel like Cleopatra on her way to meet Caesar, or Daniel confronting the lions, I’m not sure which. I steady myself, straighten my posture, and go in search of my mother and the prince.
Mother is waiting for me in the music room when I arrive. I’ve never been to the music room, and I had to follow a tray-carrying servant to find it. The room is large with a mirrored ceiling, three enormous crystal chandeliers, and gilded carvings adorning the walls. It’s called the music room, I gather, because a white, grand piano and several other antique-looking instruments are displayed prominently throughout.
A woman with long, curly brown hair and wearing a beaded dress sits at a harp by the window. She softly plunks and strums the scads of strings. Overstuffed seating is strategically positioned around the room, and a long table is laden with silver trays piled high with pastries, fruits and cheeses. Pitchers of colorful beverages and elaborate goblets have been placed along the sideboard. I wonder if others will be joining us, or if this embarrassment of riches is meant only to impress the prince.
“You look lovely, darling,” Mother says when I kiss her cheek. She’s dressed in a gold satin gown that shows off her figure beautifully. Her hair is loose like mine, and she wears a delicate golden crown. As usual, she looks every bit a queen.
“The prince will be here shortly,” she says. “Everything is coming together nicely.” She’s calmer and more assured than she was earlier this afternoon.
“Mother—” I say, wanting to let her know my feelings about this marriage thing before the prince shows up.
“Ah, here he is now.” I turn to see a tall, blonde man, dressed in black trousers and a shiny royal blue coat stride into the room. A horde of young men in dark suits follows closely on his heels.
He whispers something to the man on his right, who turns and herds the others to the back of the room. The prince walks directly to mother and bows. He wears rings on every finger of both hands, and I’m shocked to see he’s wearing more makeup than I am.
“Queen Eleanor.” He lifts her hand and kisses it, staring deeply into her eyes. His lips linger a bit longer than is decent. “My Queen,” his voice drips with counterfeit charm, “your beauty staggers me each time we meet.”
Eww! I take an immediate dislike to this guy.
“Prince Damien, this is my daughter, the Crown Princess Jaden Beckett,” Mother says ignoring the flowery compliment.
He turns to me and smiles, revealing a set of impossibly white teeth. He’s probably a handsome guy, but whoever applies his makeup must have formerly worked for Lady Gaga because his natural good looks are obscured by layers of eyeliner, lipstick and bronzer that seem to have been applied with a trowel. I curtsey as I’ve been taught. He politely pecks my hand. Fumes from his thick, musky cologne fill my throat, and I cough involuntarily.
“May I offer you some refreshment?” Mother asks, nodding toward the sumptuous selections arrayed on the table. Samuel materializes out of nowhere to take our requests.
“A glass of sherry would be nice,” Prince Damien replies, with only the slightest hint of a French accent. The light from the chandelier glints off the enormous diamond studs displayed in each of his ears.
“Water, please,” I say.
“Nothing for me Samuel, thank you,” Mother says, and he scurries away to fill our orders.
“Did you have a nice trip?” I ask the Prince.
“Very pleasant, thank you. I am looking forward to sampling the delights of your country, and I hope to become better acquainted with you, Princess.” He nearly blinds me with his smile.
Samuel brings our drinks, and whispers something to Mother.
“Prince Damien, will you excuse me for a moment?” she says. “I have a small matter to attend to. I shan’t be long.”
“Of course Your Highness, and please take your time. I’m certain Princess Jaden will keep me entertained.”
His eyes boldly follow Mother until she is out of the room, and his gaze returns to me. “Oh my,” he says, staring straight at my chest. “The famous Coventry Amethyst. May I?” He scoops up the center stone of my necklace, deliberately resting his hand for a moment against my exposed cleavage.
“Lovely. Just lovely,” he smirks, obviously amused with himself.
My dislike for him shoots off the scale, and since Mother isn’t around to hear me, I let him have it. “Okay dude, you just crossed a line here. I know you’re a guest of the queen, but I don’t give a crap who your daddy is. If you ever touch me again without my permission, I’ll wipe that smarmy grin off your face permanently. Got it?”
“Oh ho!” He leers at me. “You’re a feisty one. I like that. I was told you were rather dull.”
“And I was told you were a gentleman. I guess we were both misinformed.”
His arrogance seems to wane a little.
“Princess Jaden, I’m afraid we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I apologize if I have offended you in any way,” he says. “I have the utmost respect for you and the queen. Please, let us sit. I will try to make amends.”
We sit on a brocade sofa. “Tell me everything about yourself,” Damien says. “I understand you are a very accomplished young woman.”
His pretended interest in me is completely unconvincing. His eyes dart around the room taking in every detail, but never resting on me.
“Actually, I don’t really enjoy talking about myself,” I say, still seething.
“Oh, you are too modest.” He takes baby sips of his sherry and watches the door, no doubt hoping Mother will return soon. When he cranes his neck, I can see the faint outlines of a tattoo on the right side of his face. That explains the dense makeup.
“Very well, we will change the subject,” he says, idly twisting one of his rings.
“Tell me about the queen. Is she seeing that vile lap dog of hers, General LeGare?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“They were inseparable in Dome Noir, always whispering to one another. They were very… I don’t know, intimate. I wondered if he is to be her new husband.”
“She’s still married to my father.”
“Ah, so it is the affaire clandestine?”
“If you’re so interested in my mother’s affairs, I suggest you ask her.”
“Perhaps I will.” He smiles and tilts his head, looking at me curiously. “I have heard of your abduction at the hands of that Unicoi thug, Blackthorn. It must have been a frightening ordeal for you.”
“Not really,” I say. “I was never in any real danger, and young Chief Blackthorn was a perfect gentleman the entire time.”
His eyebrows shoot up and he focuses his gaze more intently on me. “Well, well, maybe you are one who enjoys a little danger, huh? Maybe that dark-haired savage has set your blood on fire?”
“You’re so full of it.” I fold my arms across my chest and turn away from him.
“I think not,” he simpers. “I think maybe you have grown bored with your provincial life in Domerica. Maybe you crave a little adventure, eh?”
I glare at him in disgust, but he prattles on. “This cave-dweller, Blackthorn, though…please, he is just a stupid boy. I don’t believe he is right for you.” He slides closer to me on the sofa, and lowers his voice to a throaty whisper. “If you want danger and fire, if you want someone to make you feel like a woman, you need a man.”
“Oh really? And I suppose you’re that man?”
“There is but one way to find out.” He moves even closer and his luminous leer makes my skin crawl.
“Not a chance!”
I’m beginning to feel like a trapped animal and my anger threatens to get the better of me. I want to lash out at him and tell him how much he disgusts me. I want to blast my mother for bringing this douche bag here and for making me wear these slutty clothes for him. And where in the hell is good old Ralston, the guy who is supposed to be guiding me through all this?
More than anything… at this moment, I just want to be home in Connecticut where life is so much simpler.
TWENTY-FOUR
I pop up from the sofa, searching for any avenue of escape. Prince Damien stands immediately—royal etiquette I suppose, since he obviously has no real manners.
“Where can Mother be?” I say, anxiously eyeing the door. “I must speak with her.” I take two steps but, as if on cue, Mother glides into the room. Damn! I’ve got to get her alone. I need to tell her this little charade is officially over. I would never consider having a single date with Prince Damien, let alone marrying him. In fact, I can’t bear to be in the same room with him.
But Mother is all smiles as she takes a chair, gesturing for us to resume our seats on the sofa.
“Mother, may I speak with you?” I ask, still standing.
“Yes, of course dear. But, please sit down. We’ll speak before dinner.”
I grudgingly plop down next to Damien.
“I’m glad you two had an opportunity to spend a few minutes alone. I trust you have gotten to know each other better,” she says, looking from me to Damien.
“Princess Jaden is quite modest, and reluctant to speak about herself,” Prince Damien says. “She is still an enigma to me.”
Mother glances at me. I’m sitting, still huffy, with my arms crossed tightly over my half-naked chest.
“Darling are you all right?” she asks.
Without waiting for an answer, she turns to Damien. “Maybe I can help. What would you like to know about my daughter?”
“Thank you Your Highness. I have a great interest in Princess Jaden. I wish to know many things about her,” he says glancing over his shoulder. “May I have my friend Luc join us?”
Mother narrows her eyes. “Isn’t he your lawyer?”
“Yes. He is also my friend and trusted advisor. I value his opinion on things. As such, I wish for him to meet Princess Jaden and sit in on our conversation. He is also very charming. I assure you, you will like him.”
“I had planned this private meeting so you and Princess Jaden could learn more about each other, but I suppose, if it would put you at ease…” Mother says.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Prince Damien nods to the group of men huddled in the corner. A dark-haired man breaks away to join us.
“Your Highness,” Damien addresses Mother, “may I present Luc Canard, my close friend and associate.”
“Monsieur Canard.” Mother holds out her hand. He takes it, bowing low.
“This is Princess Jaden,” Damien says. Canard also bows in my direction.
“Please sit down,” Mother says. Damien and Canard sit on one sofa. Mother and I take its twin, facing them.
“Now, where were we?” Mother says to Damien. “Ah, yes, what can we tell you about Princess Jaden?”
“How old are you?” Prince Damien looks at me.
“Seventeen,” I say. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
Geez, kind of old to be playing dress-up with mommy’s makeup and jewelry.
“Does Princess Jaden reside with you at Warrington Palace, or does she have her own residence?” Damien asks mother.
“She lives here at Warrington, but of course she has an estate of her own. Meadowood is southeast of here on two hundred and twenty-seven acres of some of the finest hunting and farming land in Domerica. It has a lovely manor house, as well as several guest houses. Currently only a small staff of groundskeepers inhabits the property, but you are welcome to visit if you wish.”
I’m stunned. Ralston said I had a house. I didn’t know it was a whole estate.
Mother continues, “When Princess Jaden marries she will live at Meadowood until she becomes queen, at which time, Warrington Palace will be hers as well.” She smiles lovingly at me.
Luc Canard leans forward, extracting a notebook and pen from his jacket pocket. He jots down a few notes. “I assume Princess Jaden has received the finest education available in Domerica?”
Mother looks annoyed at the question. “She has received the finest education available anywhere, Monsieur Canard. She has been tutored by the most brilliant men and women in the world. No expense was spared on her education. She is fluent in several languages and has a vast knowledge of history, literature, and the fine arts.”
“Very good.” Canard says, smiling at Damien. “What is Princess Jaden’s annual allowance at this time; and will it increase upon her marriage?”
Mother glances nervously at me. “These are matters which can be discussed at a later date with Prince Damien, should we mutually decide to move forward.”
“But we are interested in knowing about the dowry and other assets the princess would bring into the marriage.” Canard pushes. “Of course we would insist on the appropriate medical clearances before we can even make a determination whether or not to move forward.” He looks to Damien who nods in agreement.
Mother’s back stiffens and sparks glint from her eyes. “Monsieur Canard you are out of line. Prince Damien is here at my invitation, as a favor to his father. I shall decide the way in which these matters proceed.”
“But, why not discuss it now?” Damien says lightly. “I have met the princess, and I find her acceptable. I am certain she finds me acceptable as well. Why not get these things out into the open straight away. Maybe I will not need to spend the entire week here.”
Canard says, “I apologize Your Highness, but we are simply saying that certain things may strongly influence Prince Damien’s decision one way or the other.”
“Things such as the extent of Princess Jaden’s wealth?” Mother says sharply.
“Well, Your Highness, he is being asked to give up a lot.” Canard spreads his hands in an it’s-only-fair gesture.
“Ha!” she says. “He is on the verge of being disinherited by his father. Marrying the princess would be considered his redemption.”
“Madame, you wound me.” Damien looks like he’s been slapped. “My father would never disown me, he depends upon me. Besides which, I am currently in the process of pursuing a very lucrative business venture. Isn’t that right, Luc?” His lipsticked smile is seriously disturbing.
In fact the whole Prince Damien Show gives me the willies, and this conversation is definitely pissing me off. I can’t keep my mouth shut a second longer.
“Hello? Remember me? I’m sick of you people talking about me like I’m not sitting right here. Let me save everyone a lot of time and energy. The possibility I will ever marry Prince Damien is less than zero, zilch, nada, no-can-do, ain’t gonna happen. First of all, I have no intention of marrying anyone for at least ten years. Second, if and when I do get married it’ll be for love, not because someone is willing to help me pop out an heir.
