Damaged Royals

by Hazel Parker

  I expected a scathing remark and was surprised when the woman giggled instead. She held out a hand. “I’m Darla. You’re Elizabeth, right?”

  “Yes, Elizabeth. Liz for short. Nice to meet you.” I shook her hand, then waited for her to wander off. She didn’t, instead sitting on the bed as she eyed me watchfully.

  “So are you really the prince’s friend?”

  This was gossip at its finest, and I wasn’t even sure we should be discussing it. I wasn’t sure what Darla’s intentions were. But she looked pretty sincere, so I decided to just let some of the caution go.

  “He had some trouble in the city, and I helped him out. Being hired as a maid…it’s sort of repayment. But I really want to do good work, too, and not to rely on his kindness.”

  “Sweetie, I would so rely on him if I had that kind of connection. Has he tried seducing you?”

  I blinked. “Seducing me?”

  There must have been something on my face because Darla’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. Never mind. So you’re really friends, huh? Well. Can I give you some tips?”

  I eyed her doubtfully. “Wouldn’t you get in trouble?”

  “From?”

  “The other maids. Everyone working here.”

  She waved a hand, getting it instantly. “You mean those bitches? Don’t mind them. They’re just jealous of you.”

  “And you’re not?”

  It was a daring question, and Darla appeared startled. But then she grinned. “I’m curious about you, not jealous. So I want to give you tips.”

  “What kind of tips?”

  “Ignore all the snide comments. They’ll pass. It always happens when someone pretty and new comes along, especially if the prince takes a liking to them.”

  “I plan to,” I said.

  “Good. And don’t go to the west wing at night.”

  “West wing?”

  “Yes. That’s where the two princes reside every night.”

  I tried to process that information in my head, but it didn’t sit well. I also didn’t want to ask too much, though there was one question that nagged at me. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “What’s the royal family like?”

  Darla tilted her head, leaning even more on the bed. Her body was curvaceous, suiting the maid uniform we wore perfectly. I stifled the urge to tell her that I just changed the sheets, not wanting to make any further enemies.

  “The queen is a force to be reckoned with. The crown prince is one of the kindest people on the planet. The bastard prince, well…”

  “Bastard prince?”

  “He’s a half-sibling. His mother was an entertainer, I heard. And he’s quite a personality. You’ll soon see why.”

  I already knew why, but I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to ask more, wanted her to elaborate, but I didn’t want to seem too eager. So I smiled.

  “Thanks for letting me know. I hope we can be friends.”

  She bounced around on the mattress, then beamed and said she hoped so, too. It was such a random conversation, but I realized with a start that it eased off my deep thoughts and had me breathing in relief for the first time in a while.

  At least not everyone hated me here.

  I completed some more of my tasks, then returned to my maid chambers and tried to get ready for bed. Since we arrived here, Kyle and I retained our usual routine of telling each other how our day went, and it was one I looked forward to as it eased whatever loneliness I felt.

  But I didn’t find him in the room. I wandered over to the library, prepared to scold him for reading so late.

  He wasn’t there, either.

  Anxiety slid over me, especially at Darla’s words. What if the bastard prince spotted him and did something rude again? My back went up at the thought.

  What if the queen found him and decided to throw us out?

  Not good.

  With a sigh, I started my search and hoped against hope I’d find him before I was in full panic mode.

  Chapter 6

  LUCAS

  Despite the headache that was pounding at me and threatening to make me blind, it only took half a bottle of scotch to alleviate the pain—a measly amount really, compared to what I was used to drinking. I saw it as an achievement and found my mood lifting up for the first time in many nights, and I stepped out the west wing’s special room with the thought of what I could let myself do tonight. There were so many responsibilities piling up, especially with the royal candidates for Benjamin’s wife coming to the palace soon. But I could postpone them to maybe watch a movie or two.

  Or sleep.

  Speaking of Benjamin. I hadn’t seen him the whole day, which should have been really worrying. But I knew he wouldn’t dare run away again and risk his mother’s wrath a second time, and I knew he’d usually be prowling around and being all nice and friendly when he was here.

  This only meant one thing: that he was somewhere fighting his monster just like I was. Probably in the same area I was, and I just hadn’t noticed.

  I usually didn’t check on him when he was in this state, knowing he could handle himself for now. But something nagged at me tonight: something that didn’t really feel like it would go away anytime soon. Call it instinct.

  So I decided to look for him in our little haven.

  He wasn’t in his usual spots—the spots he claimed for his territorial moments, which was a good distance away from the spots I claimed myself. I got out of there and was about to do a quick turn and re-check the whole west wing when I heard something that I shouldn’t have been hearing—not here, and certainly not now.

  Footsteps.

  Not Benjamin’s.

  I backtracked and walked in that direction, wondering at the audacity of anyone to come here when everyone was specifically told not to. I turned the corner—

  And bumped into a soft, small body, one that nearly toppled over to the ground at the impact.

  There was a very faint squeak, followed by widening eyes as she balanced herself. I stared, disbelief sinking into me.

  Of course it was her who’d disobey the rules.

  Liz stared back, then hastily backed off and bowed slightly. She opened her mouth. “I’m sorry—”

  “Have you no sense of what you should and shouldn’t be doing? Did you or did you not receive instructions not to venture in this area?”

  My voice was deliberately cool, even while my eyes scanned her. She was wearing the standard maid uniform that everyone here used, and it was conservative and followed the royal house colors—a combination of navy blue and black that went past the knees. Her hair was tamed in a bun, but that wasn’t what caught my eyes specifically.

  It was the circles under her eyes, which weren’t there before. They were dark and looking like bruises, which made her gaze look weary in general. The uniform also looked loose on her, and I remembered she didn’t look like that before. She had more meat, and now most of that meat was gone.

  Because of my preoccupation observing her, it took me a while to realize she was talking.

  It took me another to realize her tone was unpleasant.

  “Yes, I’ve been informed, and no, I do have sense—more common sense than anyone, really, considering I lived on the streets my whole life,” she intoned, tone firm but polite. The combination was odd. “I do apologize, Your Highness, but my brother’s missing and I have looked everywhere.”

  She was saying everything correct, including my title, but there was something off there that irked me. Perhaps it was her quiet stubbornness that just wouldn’t go away. It still annoyed me that she managed to get herself a free ride here when we had enough staff as it was.

  Then her words registered with a start.

  “Your younger brother has been roaming the west wing?”

  “I don’t know where he is,” she said. “That’s why I’m looking.”

  Cheeky little fiend.

  “Get out of here.”

  She blinked.
“What?”

  “Get out. You’re in forbidden territory. We have meetings here that are for Osmerol’s future, and you can be executed if you ever hear a single word.” It was a lie, but I glared at her for good measure. I watched as her face drained of any color, watched as she stepped back.

  Then I watched as her shoulders straightened and she nodded her head.

  “Goodnight, Your Highness.”

  She turned around and walked away without a single word, leaving me alone. When her footsteps were finally gone, I uttered a breath of frustration at the thought that her brother might indeed be here.

  And Benjamin would definitely still be here.

  This wasn’t good.

  I needed to find the kid right away.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, I didn’t find Benjamin or Kyle in the west wing and wondered if maybe I was worrying too much. As a last resort, I decided to head for the last place I expected anyone would be in—the west balcony, which overlooked the side gardens and some of the statues that the queen accumulated throughout the years, arranged in a way to make them look like art.

  My first indication that it was just recently breached was the sliding door being partially open—not enough to notice at a distance, but enough for something or someone small to slip in and out of easily. I slipped out and looked around, finally finding who I was looking for, sitting on the balcony floor.

  At least, one of whom I was looking for.

  Kyle looked especially small as he sat with his legs crossed and stared at the sky, his back to me. I approached him slowly, not bothering to hide myself as I stood beside him.

  “Young boy, do you know that this wing is forbidden?”

  There was some quiet shuffling before the boy stood up and faced the garden just like I did. Then he looked up at me, uncanny brown eyes staring with the same defiance that Liz did. But there was also something earnest there when he finally spoke.

  “I’m sorry. No one tells me anything here. Are you going to kill me?”

  Now that was curious. I tilted my head, studying him. “Has anyone ever threatened to kill you over disobeying someone?”

  He frowned. “My sister scolds me when I disobey her, but she doesn’t kill me.”

  “Then what makes you think I would?”

  “You’re the prince,” he said solemnly. “You can do anything you want.”

  That was a pretty innocent way of putting it. Liz’s words of living on the streets came back to me.

  “You can do what you want here, too. Just stay away from the queen and out of the west wing.”

  His eyes widened. “Anything?”

  “Short of killing anyone.”

  He shook his head vehemently. “My sister said killing is bad and we should always work hard if we want to succeed.”

  That was…mostly true.

  “How old are you again?” I asked.

  “Thirteen.”

  “Ah.”

  For someone thirteen, he spoke in a manner that I couldn’t imagine myself doing at a young age. That made me intrigued, because Liz was different.

  Liz was somewhat hardened.

  “You’re not what I thought you’d be.”

  The words had me blinking, then raising a brow at him. “What did you think I’d be?”

  “Ready to bite my head off for any single mistake.”

  “I’m not a monster.”

  Except I actually was; he just hadn’t seen it yet.

  It bothered me that this kid thought I was someone nice, even if he didn’t directly say it. I could see it in the contemplative look in his eyes, could feel it in the way he stood so relaxed and almost content beside me. Few people trusted me like that because of what I showed them—a cold personality that suited me perfectly because it kept people away. It troubled me that it didn’t keep Kyle away, and I knew I needed to do this next step.

  “But if you step foot in here again, I’m going to treat you to a good flogging.”

  His eyes flared. “That’s cruel.”

  “Nothing’s good in this world anymore, kid.”

  “Liz is good.”

  “You just think so because you’re related. No one’s as nice as you think.”

  He seemed to look very offended by that, so I used it and pushed on another steely look.

  “You’re mean,” he whispered.

  “I am.” I nodded in agreement. “Go back to your room and don’t come back here. Your sister’s looking for you, and I won’t tolerate her coming here, too.”

  Silence followed my request—no, order—and after a few seconds, I watched him bow out of the corner of my eye. Then he shuffled out of there, his steps rather petulant but quiet all the same. When I was the only one left, I kept looking at the gardens, watching as the flowers hid away and trying to not to think too much about the shift in the atmosphere.

  I wasn’t as blind as I pretended to be, not when gossip was rampant and Mrs. Bing never failed to report everything. In the span of two weeks and more, Liz had managed to make practically everyone dislike her. She also managed to get the queen to notice her and my brother to pay even more attention to her. He did it in secret, but he paid attention all the same.

  And he did none of that with the other maids, even those he had sexual relations with.

  This was a dangerous game, whatever it was he was playing. I didn’t like it.

  And I was going to do whatever I could to drive her away.

  * * *

  It took me twenty minutes to cross the west wing to the east, where most of the staff chambers were located. Past midnight, everyone was mostly asleep or in their rooms. The queen often made it a habit to wake up early unless she was really tired, so everyone made it a habit to wake up even earlier. It was just how it was. Benjamin and I were probably the only ones who didn’t, but that was for a reason.

  I knocked on her door softly, expecting no response and planning to just have someone give her a note in the morning. But to my surprise, footsteps sounded, and the door was softly opened a few seconds later.

  Liz was wearing pajamas—not the kind that we provided, but ones that seemed to be her own. The bottom part was checkered green and worn out, while the upper part was this loose gray shirt that had a tear in the shoulder area.

  Golden brown eyes widened when she saw me, and her mouth dropped open slightly.

  “Your Highness?”

  “Is your brother here?”

  Automatically, she moved to stand on the space in between the partially open door, a protective instinct coming into play. “Yes. He’s asleep now. Is there anything I can do? Do you need tea?”

  “I found him in the west wing.”

  Her face paled, and I realized Kyle hadn’t told her anything. She opened her mouth, probably to apologize again.

  I cut her off.

  “Starting tomorrow, you will take the punishment for it. Come to my room, early morning. You’ll be cleaning it daily on top of your other tasks.”

  “Your Highness…”

  “That’s a direct order.”

  Without waiting for her response, I turned around and left.

  Chapter 7

  LIZ

  He was the most despicable human being on the planet.

  That was an exaggeration, of course, but still. He was rude, cold, insensitive and demanding, like he had every right to be. Perhaps he had some right, considering who he was, but he didn’t have to be. Benjamin was just as powerful, and Benjamin had been nothing but kind to me and probably even the entire household.

  It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered other than me following orders and not risking Kyle’s future here, and that was exactly what I was going to do.

  Even if it meant having to face that jerk daily.

  A part of me reasoned that it probably wouldn’t be so bad. A list of my tasks for today came to mind, and I knew it would take up most of my time. But maybe his room would be easy to clean. He didn’t seem like a messy person.
Perhaps a glimpse of where he slept would give me an idea of the man behind the rudeness, because surely no man could be this much of a brat.

  My mood lifted, I knocked on his bedroom door, waiting for some response. I remembered hearing that the princes usually slept in and that maids used the opportunity to clean their rooms while they were, and I decided I might as well, too. At least that would prevent any conversation or more animosity from happening between us. It was said that only the older maids were allowed to clean to avoid any scandals, but I couldn’t exactly disobey again and earn a second strike. Or a third. I opened the door and slipped in—

  His room was bad.

  My eyes widened as I took in my surroundings. The curtains were drawn, not allowing a single sliver of light to come in. There was a bundled lump in the middle of the huge canopy bed, unmoving. Perhaps he was dead, and he asked me to come because he wanted someone to find him.

  Right. It was the weirdest thought I’d had so far, and I stifled the smile at my own morbid humor. That humor disappeared when I eyed all the bottles on the floor—alcohol bottles, some empty and others still full, and it was such a bizarre sight that I could only stare for the first minute.

  Clothes were strewn on the sides, with what looked like an assorted array of shoes. His walk-in closet was open, and I glimpsed an even bigger mess inside. With a sigh, I straightened my shoulders. This was going to most likely take up my whole morning.

  Time to get moving, then.

  I started with the clothes and shoes, picking them up and stuffing them in a laundry basket to be brought to the cleaners later. Then I began to pick up the alcohol bottles one by one, wondering how there could be so many. Did he have a party I wasn’t aware of? Was he really just a drunkard?

  Those questions were left unanswered, so I just kept working. I got to the walk-in closet and began to tidy up, too, admiring the staggering amount of clothes that ranged from the casual to the formal. There was even some kind of royal uniform similar to the colors we wore, and I didn’t doubt it would look good on him. He might be a jerk, but there was no denying he had the dark good looks to pull it off.

  “You came in without permission?”

  The deep, raspy voice that spoke of just waking up startled me into dropping the royal uniform. Horrified, I hastily picked it up and turned to start explaining.