by Anna Bloom
His fingers tugged on mine. “I know you will. It’s why you’re my perfect princess.”
Seven
We didn’t go through the main doorway. Oliver, with his hand still holding mine, led me around the side of the building where a plain looking door held a security pad which he placed his thumb against.
“Remember to get Leia security clearance please.” He threw over his shoulder to Freya, who seemed, rather annoyingly, to be following us. I wished she’d just go do one. I was having a moment here. I was about to walk into St Mark’s Palace which had every chance of being my home for the foreseeable future, maybe forever. I shut that thought down, let’s not get carried away here.
As if reading my mind, he turned to Freya. “If you could liaise with Bill and discuss security. I’ll have a briefing with you both at four in the library.”
Her face fell for a moment and then, being the true professional she was, she cleared it and smiled, nodding her head. “As wish, Your Highness.”
She turned to leave and he called her back. “Thank you, Freya. I appreciate all you’ve done today.”
Her smile tightened. “I believe, Sir, you’ll be thanking me for the days that follow too.”
He just laughed though, water off a duck’s back. “Remind me to buy you something wonderful for Christmas.”
She laughed, her disgruntlement dissolving with the drop of her shoulders. “You will.”
He shooed her away with his fingers and we both watched her long legs swing from side to side as she loped gracefully back around the corner. When I turned back to him, trying to wipe my scowl off my face, I found his gaze watching me carefully. “Ready to enter the lion’s den?”
I giggled; breathless and gasping. “You aren’t making this any easier, Oll—” I screeched as he swept me up in his arms. Daisy clapped her hands and laughed with delight.
“What are you doing?” I managed to say. Words, thoughts, speaking, became almost impossible when held tight into his arms, my body pressed close against his, his burning gaze intently watching my face. “I’m ticking things off the romance list.”
“We aren’t married. You aren’t carrying me over the threshold to our matrimonial house.”
Something in his eyes made my stomach tighten. “Still doing it.”
Using his foot, he opened the door and then shouldered us through. I stared beseechingly at Daisy, but she’d clearly taken up camp on his side. His lips glanced over mine, sweet but firm. “Come, let me show you both the apartment.”
“Please don’t carry me the whole way; you’ll put your back out.”
“We are already here, Leia.” He chuckled and pecked another kiss on my mouth before setting my feet carefully on the floor. I grabbed onto him anyway, my knees knocking together. I turned, almost expecting his family to be stood there waiting for us: the Queen in a ballgown with a crown on her head; his father, stern and small in a tuxedo, his long pointy pole in his hand—what was that bloody word again?
Instead, I found just what I’d come to see as ‘Oliver decor’. Pale wooden floors and grey walls led away from us into a hallway. On the right, an open plan lounge housed some leather sofas and a wall full of books. Other doors led off from the hallway.
“These are my private apartments,” he told us as he edged us down towards the lounge. “I haven’t been using them much, but they will have plenty of space for us when we are in town.” He nodded to the doors down the corridor. “Daisy, you can choose from the last two doors on the right and the one on the left. If you let me know which one you want, and which colour you’d like, we can get it organised.”
“Really?” Daisy looked up at him, wide eyed.
A door opened, closer to us. Daisy and I both jumped but Oliver chuckled. “Not this room, this one’s mine.”
Nana grinned and held her arms out wide to Daisy who launched herself into them like a rocket. “Nana! I missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. I’ve been so bored without the school run.”
I flinched a bit, remembering my last school run with Daisy. The press, the walk… the papers. That reminded me. I needed to find out who I was meant to talk to about testing pollution on the school run. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be that easy, but I filed the thought away for a later time.
Nana stepped up and grabbed me in a tight squeeze. “What have I told you about wearing those awful pyjamas?”
I flushed as hot as the sun. “Lesson learned.” I checked her over. It had only been a few days since we’d been together in the hospital at Daisy’s side, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. I guess in a way it had. I’d changed my life, my path now. To what, I didn’t quite know.
Daisy who’d slipped off to look behind the other doors hollered for me and I quickly ran to where she called. “What?” I barged through one of the white doors. “Oh.”
I huffed out a breath. Daisy stood in a room that looked like it should be in a style magazine; a style magazine specifically dedicated to how to make a fairy tale bedroom. Billowing white gossamer hung from the ceilings, like the sails to a ship. A pretty white four poster stood against one wall, while the pale wooden floor, like the rest of the hallway, had been covered in pink and purple rugs. Chiffon curtains blew gently in a breeze that came from open French doors.
“Ah, you found it.” Oliver slipped his arms round my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. I stared back at him.
“You did this?” I tried to get my words to make sense. “I thought she had to choose a room. Didn’t you just say that?”
“Well I did.” His lips curved. “But then I also thought she might choose this one, but then she might not. No pressure.” He shrugged but didn’t release me from his hold. “I’ve never decorated for a six-year-old before.”
“Well neither have I, quite like this.” I stared back around the room. I kind of wanted one like that myself. “It’s very kind of you.”
“No, it’s my pleasure. I’m kind of hoping you’ll decide to stay here forever.”
“Here? Always?”
“Well and Greystone.” I thought with longing of his perfectly proportioned Guildford private residence.
Daisy ventured out of the French doors and I twisted quickly in his arms, slipping my hands around the back of his neck and lowering his head down to mine. I pressed my lips to his, greedy and determined. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome.” His low rumble made my insides liquify.
“And Nana has a room?” I arched an eyebrow. I loved my nana very much, but I didn’t know if I wanted her staying in the room down from me. He chuckled, his lips pressing against mine.
“No, it’s just so she can have a Nana nap when she’s here.”
“I heard that!” The woman herself called.
“You’ve achieved a lot in what, three days?” I stared at him, searching his gaze.
“About that. You forget I’m a prince. I can do everything.”
My head shook slowly. “Apart from control that ego.”
“That’s what I’ve got you for.”
He pulled out of my embrace, his expression dropping a little bit. “Nana, will you be okay for a few hours?”
My stomach plummeted, but I tried not to let it show.
“We’ll just spend some time with the advisors.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed tight. “My family will want to see us too.”
I swallowed hard. His family… they’d never approve of me. I brought bad headlines and disgrace.
“Of course.” Nana nodded.
“And then when we get home, we will have a family dinner, yes?” Oliver turned on his brilliant smile and Nana stared at him for a moment. Speechless.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Oliver sounded like he was trying to rally a failing sports team… oh God, I was the failing team.
Nana gave me a thumbs up; utterly inappropriate.
“Can I get changed first?”
Oliver’s gaze drifted over me. “You’re fine.�
�
“I’m wearing jeans and a hoodie.”
“So? Just be yourself, Leia. There is little point pretending to be anything other than who you are.”
I sucked my teeth and tried to think of a suitable response. When I came up blank I just shrugged.
His fingers grabbed mine, weaving them together. “The grounds are free for everyone to use, but keep an eye on Daisy, the journey has probably exhausted her.”
He said all my words; again.
Nana nodded almost dumbly, but then she turned her gaze to me and shot me a broad wink. “Told you he was a keeper.”
He laughed, his ego no doubt inflating to the size of the entire universe. “That’s what I keep telling her.”
I rolled my eyes as he led me away. I craned my neck to try to find Daisy, but I had to just believe she’d be okay. She had Nana. We were in the fricking palace for God’s sake. If she couldn’t be safe here, then where would she be?
We went back out of the door we came through. “Does everyone have their own access door to the palace?” We were back out on the gravel.
“No. We’ve not all got our own apartments. But it’s not just my own immediate family that live here. This is the royal London residency. So the Earl of Norfolk uses this as his address, the Duke of Lincoln.”
“Your uncle?”
He lifted his eyebrow. “You know who my uncle is? But he’s a posh person.”
I smacked him on the stomach. “I hate the royals. I don’t live under a rock.”
“Might be an idea not to say you hate the royals once we are through the front door.” I dropped my gaze, mortified.
His family would dislike me even more if they knew how I hated poncy people. He chuckled and dropped a kiss onto my forehead. “But a lot of the residences are through the central entrance. I get special dispensation because…” he trailed off.
“You’re the future king boy.”
“Yes that.” Another kiss. I stumbled over my feet. He laughed loudly. “Please try not to fall over.”
“Would I embarrass you?” I scowled until my forehead hurt.
“No, but it would be remembered forever, and the next thing you’ll be known as Lopsided Leia, or something equally ridiculous.”
My scowl evaporated. His statement pulled my interest but I didn’t have time to ask anything else. The main door to the palace opened as if by magic and Oliver sprung up the steps, pulling me after him. And he wanted me not to fall over?
“Dixon. Thank you.” Oliver spoke to the door, which struck me as odd until an elderly man in full livery stepped out from behind the large door.
“Welcome home, Your Highness.”
“Where is everyone?” Oliver clapped his hands together like he was cold. Surely he couldn’t be? I had sweat dripping from every pore. “In the library? Or are we in the battle rooms drawing up plans?”
Dixon smiled. “Just the library, Sir. Can I get you some refreshments?”
“Scotch please, a bloody large one. Just ice.” Oliver smiled at something. “Leia, my love, what would you like?”
“Uh.”
“Wine? Sherry, tea?” I scrunched my face at the sherry. No thanks.
“Tea please.”
“Perfect, and can I say, Ma’am, a suitable choice for three in the afternoon.”
Oliver laughed and mock punched the older man on the shoulder. “Dixon, I just like to wind you up. Stop making it so easy. I’ll also have tea please. Can you also arrange to have a cream tea for two sent to my rooms?”
“Certainly, Sir.”
“Okay. Here we go.”
“Oh, Sir. Your brother is home.” Dixon’s voice maintained the most professional tone, but I caught the hint of something underneath and looked with more interest at the old man.
“Marvellous,” Oliver’s response crinkled like a dry leaf. He turned to me and sent me a small smile. “Come on, Leia.”
Every step down the luxurious hallways made a rising swell of puke jam its way up my throat. My legs wobbled so much I willingly leant onto Oliver’s arm. Occasionally, he chuckled and kissed the top of my head. I’m sure the artwork on the walls were priceless. I’m sure the antiques lined along the rich carpets were breath-taking. I couldn’t see a damn thing. I walked blind.
“Leia,” Oliver spoke my name softly, cutting through the static. He wheeled us around and pulled me to a stop. “Leia, they are just my family.”
“Who happen to be the King and the Queen.”
“Yes, but they are also my mum and dad.”
I nodded but I didn’t mean it. “I haven’t felt this nervous since the night my mum died and I sat in the police station not knowing where I would go next.”
The gentle brush of his fingers soothed around my face, his thumb pressing against my chin and opening my mouth slightly. “And I will never let you feel like that again. If I thought this couldn’t work, we wouldn’t be doing it.”
“Because you know I’m not a good fit?”
“No, because if I can’t be who I am with you, then I’m not doing this.”
There they were again, those bold words. Big statements that had the capacity to not only change our lives but the entire fabric of our society.
I shook my head. I’d never let him make that choice. If it were the last thing I did, I’d make sure of it. I’d walk away and save him rather than let him fall for me.
“They are just my family, Leia. Utterly normal.”
“Yeah, well remember I’ve never known what that was like, not really.”
His flashed me a wide smile. “Well now it’s time to start.”
He pushed open the door and I kept my eyes trained firmly on the wide set of his shoulders, checking for tension. My heart raced like I’d run for the bus and then finished my journey on foot, never once breaking pace.
The King—dear God, this was actually happening—sat with a paper on his lap. The Queen stared out of a wall length window with her back ramrod straight.
“Oh, Oliver.” She turned and smiled wide. I stepped behind him, trying very hard to shield myself. I remembered all too well the look of disapproval she’d sent my way at her son’s thirtieth birthday ball.
“Hey, Mum.” I faltered at him calling her mum. I expected, Ma’am, hadn’t he called her that before? “I told you not to worry, we got home perfectly safe.”
“Well, still. For goodness’ sake, when are you going to realise these people will not leave you alone?”
I peeked around his shoulder. I wanted to be proud, and meet her gaze… but well… no.
She stepped up, smelling simply divine. I hated to think what I smelt of. “Leia, first rule of public relations. Never answer the door in your pyjamas.”
“Never answer the door.” Henry, the King, interjected.
“Henry.” Margaret Beaufort shot a frown at the King who rustled his paper in response, lifting it higher so he couldn’t see her glare.
I chuckled a little bit—utterly helpless. I clapped a hand against my mouth. I didn’t think you were supposed to laugh at the Queen. “Sorry.” Shit, the room turned into a sauna; sweat springing in my armpits under Ollie’s hoodie.
“Ignore him, he’s a grouch.” The Queen leant past Oliver and grasped a hand around my elbow, pulling me forward. Oliver grinned, those green eyes flashing.
“Don’t hide. Always stand tall and proud; even if on the insides you resemble crumbly cheese.” She met my gaze, even my stare shook, and then swept a searching glance over my face. “How is your daughter, Leia? We were so sorry to hear about her terrible scare; you must have been petrified.” Her hand still held mine, which frankly crossed into awkward.
“She’s much better. She’s here somewhere.” I motioned to the door we came in through, but really past the door I didn’t have much clue how to get back to Oliver’s apartment.
“So awful, it’s a mother’s worst nightmare isn’t it?”
I nodded trying not to let my mind wander to those moments in King�
��s hospital when I’d thought Daisy had died. “Yes,” I whispered.
“Well we have the royal physicians on hand here if needed. Oliver can explain how to contact them.”
“Thank you.”
“And so now we are in a situation.”
“Muuum,” Oliver warned. He made it sound just like Daisy.
“Well, Leia is one of us now, you’ve made that abundantly clear. Now she’ll have to learn to be one of us.”
“We’ve just arrived,” he groaned. “Can we at least have a cup of tea first?”
“No time for tea. This is the rescue Princess Leia mission.” The Queen’s pale blonde hair shimmered as she almost danced with excitement.
“Mum!” Oliver’s voice tightened now, hardened. I wouldn’t mess with him.
“I don’t understand, Your Highness?” I wished I could stand up straighter like she asked, but my spine had left me.
“Well, Oliver has made it clear he won’t relinquish you. Now we will have to make you into a princess the people will love.”
I stared at Oliver. My heart beat so damn hard I could have puked.
“Mother for God’s sake!” he roared but I couldn’t really hear him over the pounding in my ears.
A dark head poked up from behind the back of one of the fancy Regency sofas. Oliver’s sister, Isabella Beaufort wobbled a little, a glass of something not tea in her hand. “Welcome to the fucking crazy house.”
Eight
Marcus Cartwright peered at me over the edge of his half-moon glasses. His grey brows were bunched together high. “Public opinion is down to one point.” He cleared his throat. “Public opinion has never been so low, not since the war.”
Fucking great.
I slunk down in my seat, but the Queen elbowed me in the ribs. Oliver, who sat at the other side of me, played with a glass of water, not looking the least bit concerned.
“I’m pretty sure, Marcus.” Oliver’s voice cut efficiently and clearly across the table. The man at my side reminded me of the prince who’d arrived at Bright Futures; guarded and standoffish. Nothing like the man I woke up in bed with this morning. “That I have brought the points pretty low at times over the years.”
