A Royal Surprise

by Nichole Blithe

  Still adjusting to this lifestyle, the formal wear for this party is surprising. My floor length dress looks more fitting for a wedding than a garden party. The beaded lace halter top is sexy and elegant covering everything it needs to. Clara brought me several dresses to choose from knowing I was having trouble adjusting to my loss of freedom. Oddly, she understands my need for independence and has been trying to help give a little back. Having preapproved attire to choose from is working for us. She does her job, and I don’t feel quite so limited in my autonomy.

  Dad stands and the hush spreads among the crowd. “Friends, family, and guests. You have been invited here on this fine evening to begin the annual end of summer festival. Each year you all come together to celebrate the end of summer and beginning of the grape harvest. Thank you all for being here.” Everyone claps, but he silences them by raising his hand. “In addition, I have an announcement. I would like your help to celebrate an engagement.”

  The crowd buzzes with excitement, all wondering who is getting married. Some eyes glace at me, others stare at my dad eager for the reveal. The staff makes their way around passing out champagne, the chatter grows as the anticipation is stretched waiting for the announcement. He holds his hand out to Lady Eleanor, she quickly joins him in front of everyone. Her smile stretched across her cheeks, she clings to my dad’s arm with a possessiveness that isn’t necessary. Dressed in a black gown that isn’t her usual revealing and form fitting attire.

  “Lady Eleanor has agreed to be my wife.”

  The guests answer with applause, some calling out congratulazioni and toasting the happy couple. I sip my champagne while glancing around the crowd I see some delighted nods of approval mixed with frowns.

  Planted firmly on team “whatever makes dad happy,” I will do whatever it takes to support him, although I do wish it had been anyone else. I still don’t like her. There’s just something that doesn’t feel right about her.

  I make my way to a server near the back to get a fresh glass of champagne, working hard to sip it like a lady and not gulp it down. I really want to gulp it. I down the contents before getting a new glass and glance over the crowd again. I’m not looking for Quinn. I’ve been a good girl avoiding being alone with him since the ball.

  “Wonderful news your father is marrying again. They seem very happy together.”

  Wrong duke. Or right duke? I don’t know, anymore. Plastering a smile on my face, I turn to Cristian. “They do, don’t they?”

  “I do hope you’ve considered my offer for lunch?” He grins at me and offers his arm as we walk between groups of people.

  “I have,” I lie. I haven’t given it a thought. “Perhaps after the festival. There are a lot of activities that need my attention and since this is my first year, I would hate for anything to go wrong.”

  “Of course, Princess. I completely understand. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance.” A passing server freshens our glasses of champagne. I’ll work harder to slow down on this one.

  “Excellent champagne, the king has an impressive cellar. Have you been? The 1967...”

  Or perhaps not.

  While he drones on about grapes and fermenting, I polish off my glass again. The cold bubbles dancing across my tongue and down my throat. “If you would excuse me for just a moment, Cristian.”

  “Oh certainly. I’ll just be right here.” He smiles a tight smile.

  My new favorite staff member makes his way around again filling my glass while I give another once over for Quinn. I won’t even try to lie to myself anymore. The champagne is making me stupid, or brave. I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him all night. I do need to find him, we should discuss what happened in the solarium and what was said. Cordelia and Cristian, among others, will be staying here in the castle for the festival and the thought of us all under the same roof makes me antsy. It’s just a recipe for drama.

  I’ve looked all over the garden, he must be inside the castle. Ducking in at the staff’s entrance to avoid seeing Lord Boring Pants again. I come out behind the dining hall. I’ll just loop around to the foyer, maybe if I loiter there, I can catch him. As I near the end of the hallway hushed angry voices come from the sitting room. I don’t care much for gossip or eavesdropping, but as I turn to go back the other way, I recognize Quinn’s voice and because I’m a fool I listen.

  “Stay away from the princess. I can’t have you messing everything up for me. It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly.”

  Is that Eleanor? I’ve never heard her sound so venomous. She’s always talking in a tinkling, cheery voice to my dad and says as little as possible to me.

  “You’re engaged to the king. We are celebrating your engagement out in the garden as we speak. How could my speaking to Adella hurt you in any way?”

  “Oh Christ. Just stay away from her. You’ll be sorry if you don’t. I will make sure the king doesn’t ever look at you favorably again.”

  I knew she didn’t seem to like me, but this is extreme, is she afraid I will somehow change my father’s mind about marrying her? And what does that have anything to do with Quinn?

  Maybe I didn’t hear Eleanor correctly. That last glass of champagne seems to be the one I shouldn’t have had. I sway a little and lean back against the wall.

  “You aren’t queen yet. Aunt. You had better be cautious of who you threaten.”

  She snorts. “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”

  “So sorry. Aunt.”

  “Don’t test me, Quinn. I see the way you two look at each other. Don’t destroy my future. Mine or my child’s.”

  “What child?”

  “My future children,” she shouts. “The king’s heirs, of course. Just stay away from the princess and keep your pants on for once. There are hundreds of other women in the country for you to dally with. Pick any one of them.” Her voice fades to a volume too low for me to hear, and I don’t get the last part before her heels click down the hall away from where I’m standing just around the corner.

  I count to twenty, hoping Quinn is gone too before stepping out from around the corner. I slam straight into his body. The empty champagne flute falls to the ground shattering into a thousand crystal pieces. His hands steady me at the hips, burning holes through my dress straight to my skin. His eyes dart over me with concern.

  “Adella, are you alright? Did you get cut?”

  Instead of answering I throw my arms around his neck and kiss lips, pressing myself against him, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. My body heats everywhere his hands and lips touch spreading through every nerve, on the verge of combusting.

  He kisses back up my neck to my lips. I smile against his lips, pulling back a bit.

  “I was looking for you.”

  I lean for another kiss and he backs away. He closes his eyes and groans.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Am not.” I shake my head but stop when the hallway spins.

  “How much champagne have you had?” He lifts my chin to inspect my face peering into my eyes.

  “Umm, four glasses. Maybe five, I can’t remember.” My giggles spill out uncontrollably.

  “That’s a whole bottle, woman. Mannaggia Let’s get you to bed.”

  “Yes. Let’s get to bed.” I reach up to unbutton his top buttons and he bats my hands away.

  “Not for that.” He straightens his shirt and clears his throat swallowing a couple times.

  “I finally give you the green light, and you aren’t going to take it?” I cross my arms. He’s done everything he can to tempt me and now he doesn’t want me when he can have me.

  “No, not like this. Not some drunken night.” He puts his arm around me and leads me down the hall, suddenly we’re in my bedroom. I don’t even remember walking here.

  He steers me across the room making it difficult to walk as we bump into each other as we go. After leaving me leaning against the bed post, he walks to the dresser opening the top drawer, disarranging the contents
.

  “What are you doing now?” I ask through a yawn, drowsiness coming from nowhere.

  “Looking for pajamas, you can’t sleep in that dress.” He continues rifling through the drawer. “Is there anything in here besides lacey shit to drive me crazy?”

  “Yes, if you would get out of my panty drawer. Look in the bottom.”

  Shutting the top, he opens the bottom drawer and pulls out a silky night gown. He crosses the room to lay the gown on the foot of the bed. “Turn around.”

  “Why?” I stop struggling with the clasp on my bracelet to look at him.

  “Because I’m going to help you change. Now hurry up this needs to be quick. I only have so much will power not to look. I would rather not go to bed with the image of undressing you in my mind.”

  “You’re the one who said no.”

  He sighs and shakes his head. “I didn’t say no, just not right now. When it happens with you, it will be significant.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t even know. I haven’t so much as looked at anyone else since I met you. What are you doing to me?” He pulls me into his arms and buries his nose into my hair.

  I pull myself from his arms and stumble not so gracefully, falling against the bed trying to remove my heels. His hand holds my waist to steady me.

  “I don’t need your help. I can do it myself.”

  “Sure you can.” Just as he reaches out for me the door opens and Clara steps in.

  “Your Highness, mi dispiace. I thought you would still be at the party. I came to get your bed turned down and set out night clothes.” She looks at everything in the room but us, her face turning a deep shade of red.

  “You have perfect timing Clara! The princess was just going to attempt to get herself to bed. I’m sure she could use your assistance.” He leans down putting a hand on my cheek before it slides to the back of my neck. He kisses my cheek. “Good night, Princess.”

  “Your Grace.” Clara curtseys

  “Clara.” He nods on his way past. He shuts the door, and Clara hurries over to busy herself with the bed while I struggling to get the beaded monstrosity unclasped from my neck. She steps around the end of the bed to help me.

  “Do you think we could never speak of this again?” Poor Clara always catches me at my worst.

  “Principessa, I would never speak of such things. If I were however, I would say how the Duke of Herington is a much better choice than the Duke of Gedge. But of course, I would never say that.” She helps me slip the nightgown over my head and gets me into bed, curtseying and flicking the light out as she leaves.

  Chapter Ten

  Lady Eleanor spent the past two weeks acquiring every available member of the castle staff to prepare for the wedding. The great hall has been arranged with dozens of tables to accommodate the hundreds of people who will be attending the reception at the castle. Every table is draped with white cloths and a blue runner displaying the royal crest. Fabric drapes along the ceiling from the chandeliers to the outer walls in big billowing folds.

  The chefs have been preparing food for days, an enticing seven course meal that I’ve gotten to taste test every time I pass through the kitchen; which I make sure to do daily. The creamy tomato soup has ruined me, no other soup will ever compare. The staff doesn’t seem to mind my nosing around. They smile at me whenever I wander into the kitchen, giving me tastes of the new creations. Today they are assembling the massive cake, five towering tiers of decadent scrollwork and roses, dusted with gold flakes.

  Tomorrow, my dad will marry this girl who is barely older than I am. He seems happy, he smiles all the time. She showers him in affection every moment they’re together. I’ve caught her sneaking to his room late at night, but I don’t want to think about that.

  I wish I could like her. I wish I saw what Dad sees. I want her to be more than a person on the outskirts of my life who I barely tolerate. From what I remember of the conversation I heard between her and Quinn, I know something isn’t right and I’m having a hard time ignoring that feeling.

  “Can I help you with that?” Cristian startles me out of my thoughts. I didn’t even see him lurking. He lifts the tray from my hands and walks with me toward my dad’s office carrying the clattering china.

  “Thank you. I’m just taking my dad a little something, he’s been so busy I think he’s forgetting to eat.” Normally Mrs. B would make sure he’s taken care of, but she’s had her hands full with the wedding preparations.

  “Who takes care of you while you’re taking care of everyone else?”

  Quinn stays away when Eleanor is around, leaving Cristian plenty of opportunities to be alone with me. He’s still sweet and boring, but maybe it’s my fault. Maybe he wouldn’t be so boring if I could connect with him. A lack of instant sparks doesn’t mean we couldn’t be happy together.

  It’s hard to think about anyone else when Quinn is always on my mind. Has been since I met him if I’m honest. I can’t stop thinking about him and what didn’t occur. If he was as bad as everyone says, he would’ve taken me to bed no problem. He didn’t and even sent a sweet note to check on me the next morning.

  Who knows what he’s doing when he makes these little afternoon trips of his a few times a week. He is nothing but smiles when he comes back, he could be visiting a girl. I don’t want to think about that. I can’t think about that. I’m the only one to blame if I fall for an act. I’m stuck in this horrible cycle of being unable to stay away and not quite trusting he isn’t the playboy I’ve been warned about then forcing myself to.

  “You don’t need to worry about me.” I knock on the door to the office waiting for Dad’s response before I open it and take back the tray from Cristian. The scent of coffee drifts up from the tray.

  “I do hope that if you need anything you will come to me. I will always make you a priority,” He says softly and caresses my wrist.

  “It’s very kind of you to offer. I’ll be sure to keep it in mind. Thank you.”

  He bows his head and returns my smile before taking his leave.

  Once inside the room, I shut the door with my foot and take careful steps across the room to not spill the hot coffee and sandwiches all over me or the beautiful rug as I cross the room.

  “Was that Cristian I heard?” Dad asks, looking up from his desk.

  “It was. He was helping me bring your lunch to you.” I set the tray on his desk and he immediately prepares his coffee, pouring his customary cream and sugar into the cup.

  “Such a fine boy. Maybe soon I’ll be announcing another engagement.” He glances at me as he swirls the spoon in his cup.

  “Oh? You know someone else getting married? I believe I heard the pastry chef, Pierre, is marrying (some maid). I’m sure they would be honored for you to announce it.”

  “Okay, funny girl. You made your point.” He sets the spoon back on the tray testing the temperature of his drink. “I haven’t seen much of Quinn lately.”

  “Oh?” I avoid eye contact running my finger along the groove on his desk.

  “He isnt the reason you aren’t interested in Cristian?”

  I really hope he hasn’t heard about the night of the garden party. It’s embarrassing enough without my dad knowing.

  “No.” It isn’t a complete lie if it’s not the only reason.

  “It’s okay if you are interested in Quinn.”

  “My life has gone through so many changes so quickly and my time isn’t really my own right now. I don’t have the time to dedicate to a relationship.” Nor do I want one. When they end, they always end ugly.

  “No, and you don’t have to be in one. I must have matters of the heart on my mind. I want everyone to feel as happy as I do, including you.” He nods to the chair beside me, and I sit.

  “I am happy, and I want you to be happy. I hope you and Eleanor have a good life together, Dad.” I really hope my feelings about her are wrong and she’s good to him.

  “I’m doing this, so we can all h
ave a good life together. My happiness is an extra advantage. I knew what was in store for me when I decided on marriage.” He doesn’t seem bothered by it, but it doesn’t ease my uncertainties. I want him to have love, not just fondness or friendship.

  “I’m very grateful for what you’ve done. I just have concerns about her.”

  “I appreciate your worry, but everything is fine.” As usual when I bring up any reservations I have about Eleanor, he dismisses them without a thought. Please, let their marriage be the right thing.

  Eleanor wanted an enormous elaborate wedding, my dad wanted something small and private. They compromised for a private ceremony at the chapel followed by a large reception at the castle. I can understand Dad’s desire for something a little more private and intimate in this life where everything you do is so public. Eleanor, however, loves to be showy. Their compromise is wonderful, couples should be able to find happy mediums, but Eleanor also needs to understand that he’s the king and sometimes she can’t have her way.

  The intimate ceremony was stunning and sweet. As my dad and Eleanor’s only remaining family, Quinn and I were in attendance, joined by a handful of their close friends.

  Now, Dad and Eleanor will make the first public appearance of the king and his new queen as they exit the church to take the customary carriage ride back to the castle. It’s been twenty years since the last royal wedding and the country is excited.

  Quin and I follow behind in another carriage and I watch the country eagerly greet the new royal couple. Messalinians line the streets as the carriage passes by, waiting for the chance to get their first glimpse. Some have tiny blue flags to wave in the air and other have their cameras or phones poised for the perfect moment.

  Even Seneca, who now stays current on all things Messalinian, has called to talk about the wedding. The excitement spreading to America since my name still appears in the news on occasion. Now, to my relief, they are more careful with what they print and regularly call the media staff for quotes and comments.