Glass Castle Prince

by Nicole Williams

  “I decided competition wasn’t really my thing.”

  “So you quit in the middle of something you’d committed to?” the queen continued.

  “I was only thirteen. It wasn’t that serious of a team really.”

  Mom shook her head, taking the wine when offered. “You were sixteen. I remember because you were able to start driving yourself to practice and it worried me sick having you on the roads at night.”

  “Can we change the subject?” I reached for my wine, resisting the urge to down it in one chug. “I’m sure the queen would like to talk about something other than my boring hobbies growing up.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I find this topic most enlightening.”

  “Has anyone talked to Edward lately?” Josephine asked abruptly. “How’s the tour been going?”

  The queen’s face softened. “Everything’s going extremely well. He’s thriving in his father’s place.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Josephine replied, perched on her chair as though she were a queen herself.

  I couldn’t help staring at Josephine, so perfect she could have been a doll. Black velvet bow tied in her golden-blond hair that hung like sheets of silk past her shoulders. Skin so flawless it appeared as though she walked around with a permanent filter cast upon her face. She knew exactly what to say and how to act it.

  The only similarity she and I bore was that we’d been born with the XY chromosomes.

  There were moments I still found myself reeling from the shift my life had taken so abruptly. I’d gone from anticipating months of isolation and soul-searching to falling for a prince, being thrust into the public eye, and being sequestered in a castle. My life had turned into a soap opera—or worse, a reality television show.

  “How have you and Mr. Everly been weathering the scandal?” Queen Helen asked my mom as servers set bowls of bouillon in front of us.

  “The scandal?” Mom repeated, feigning ignorance. I guessed she knew what the queen was getting at, but, like me, didn’t like her choice of words or the tone she’d employed.

  “The media craze pertaining to the relationship between your daughter and our son,” the queen clarified as she dipped her spoon into her broth. “I hope it hasn’t been too intolerable for you.”

  Dad’s and King Henry’s conversation cut off, though neither appeared keen to join the current one. Not that I could blame them.

  “It hasn’t been bad at all.” Mom sipped on a bit of broth. “The crew you sent to help during the initial craze was much appreciated, but life has mostly gone back to normal in our neck of the woods.”

  I recrossed my ankles in lieu of shifting in my seat. Mom was understating life getting back to normal for them, quite vastly. I knew that a handful of news stations were still camped outside their farm, and that neither of them could pop into the grocery store without being recognized and harassed.

  One night had been responsible for sending an entire nation into an upheaval, and I had a feeling it would take months, if not years, for the dust to settle.

  “I’m glad to hear it. I can’t say our ‘neck of the woods’ has gone anything back to resembling normal yet.”

  Mom’s spoon clinked against the ivory china bowl. “Is there such a thing as normal when you’re a royal?”

  Queen Helen’s expression registered shock for a brief moment. She wasn’t used to being pressed or opposed or anything that didn’t include blind agreement and unbridled praise.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Josephine whispered to me while the two mothers ruffled each other’s feathers for a few more rounds. “What an egregious invasion of privacy that was. You’ve appeared to manage it all with great aplomb.”

  “I’m not sure I’d use the word aplomb to describe any facet of my life, but thank you. I’ve done nothing more than any of us can do when faced with life’s storms—endured.” I smiled at the beautiful doll who spoke like a scholar on top of everything else, trying to convince myself she wasn’t looking at me in the way I’d grown accustomed to here, the what-does-he-see-in-her? look.

  That silent question had taken root inside me, feeding on my insecurities.

  What did Edward see in me?

  I had no current direction in life or goals other than to wake up the next morning and continue pushing through the fog of uncertainty. I overcompensated for my insecurities by coming across as ultra-confident and self-assured. My appearance fell solidly in the average category, and I’d been born to a family that came with no special titles or wealth, other than the love my parents filled our home with.

  I kept waiting for the day when whatever filter Edward had been looking at me through would fall and the person I really was became clear. I was nothing special. The truth was, none of us were anything special. What made individuals special was what they did with their life, and so far, I’d done little.

  The second course was being laid out when a familiar name echoed from the other end of the table.

  My spine stiffened against the back of the chair. “What about Theo Hamilton?”

  Queen Helen blinked at me. “How do you know Theo Hamilton?”

  Another lie wove together in my mind as I wondered how many more I could tell before I turned into a pillar of salt. “He was staying across the lake while I was at Valmont. I met him at one of Edward’s parties.”

  There. The truth.

  Never mind it wasn’t the whole truth.

  “It turns out he was the one who leaked the picture to the media,” King Henry explained as the queen stared at me with a degree of curiosity that suggested she knew there was more to the story.

  My stomach convulsed when what the king said settled in. Theo? I didn’t know why finding out he was attached to the whole mess was such a big surprise. I knew he’d been upset with how things ended between us, but I never fathomed he bore that level of resentment.

  “Theo took the picture?” I murmured more to myself than to anyone else.

  “He took it, sold it, and will be profiting from it for decades to come.” The king shot an apologetic look across the table at my parents. “I never would have put the Hamiltons high on the list of those who would wish us ill. Though I dare say the sum of money the papers offered Theo was too tempting to refuse.”

  The queen’s face suggested she was chewing on a wedge of lemon. “I’m sure there’s more to the story than money. There always is.” Her gaze inadvertently cut my direction.

  “I’m not so sure. Theo Hamilton never struck me as one who rated morality or decency highly.” Josephine folded her hands into her lap. “He left me with a rather bad taste in my mouth the few times I was around him.”

  My tongue drilled into my cheek. Josephine had seen Theo for what he was; why hadn’t I? How had I been so blinded by his act that I’d actually wasted countless hours thinking, dreaming, and “bettering” myself for him?

  Along with everything else, add instincts to the list of items I needed to improve.

  “What did you think of him, Charlotte?” Josephine asked.

  All eyes fell on me.

  “He seemed nice . . .” I was suddenly enraptured by my pea salad. “Until he wasn’t.”

  “What does that mean?” the queen asked.

  “I know exactly what you mean.” Josephine leaned in when the others were distracted by the sommelier pouring the next glass of wine. “As I’d guess every young woman to come within arm’s length of Theo Hamilton would attest to.”

  We shared a look—one that suggested we weren’t different in every way—before the king spoke up.

  “The royal family has experienced no shortness of scandals in our four-hundred-year history. Each one hits hard and suddenly, and each one goes away once the public has grown tired of it.” King Henry tipped his wine glass at me. Tonight, I’d never guess he had Parkinson’s. He was the picture of health, giving the impression that he’d live to one hundred. “You won’t be stuck here forever, Charlotte, I promise. Once things have blown over, y
ou can get back to your life as it was before all of this.”

  My parents visibly relaxed from the king’s speech, though I felt less reassured.

  The headlines would die down, but I’d never be able to go anywhere without being recognized. Not even twenty years from now probably. No one would forget the name or face of the woman who had been caught in bed with the prince.

  “And just how many royal scandals have included a photo of the future king in a compromising position with an employee?” The queen cut off when her words hit her ears. “My husband is overly optimistic where this topic is concerned, I’m afraid. As much as I’d like to believe this will all blow over and we’ll be able to go on with our lives as usual, I’m a hardened realist.”

  Another of Mom’s utensils clinked against the fine china. She might have borne a certain reverence for the queen, but all bets were off when the topic surrounded her child. “Then what do you propose?”

  “Exactly what we’ve been doing. Mitigating the damage. Allowing the public to think Edward and Miss Everly are a couple who have serious feelings for one another. Keeping her here, and him away, so neither can be pinned down by the media and inadvertently give some damning statement.”

  Mom licked her lips, a sure sign she was getting agitated. “I was under the impression they are a couple who have serious feelings for each other.”

  I eyed my wine glass. With my mom and the queen sparring verbally, I needed a whole damn bottle.

  A sharp huff came from the queen, her face leaning toward condescension. “Yes, I’m sure you would believe that.”

  Uh-oh. Mom’s face. We were approaching lift-off.

  “Meaning?” she gritted through pursed lips.

  Dad squeezed Mom’s shoulder in a way that suggested she ease off, but she didn’t seem to notice it.

  “Meaning along with scandals, the royals have known no shortage of young women who will stop at nothing to improve their position in life, seducing a prince into bed if need be.” The queen rose from her seat and whisked out of the room.

  I didn’t know who was most shocked by the queen’s outburst and departure, but all five of us stared at her empty seat for a good minute after she’d gone.

  “I apologize in my wife’s place.” The king cleared his throat. “This has been especially difficult for her.”

  “I don’t think it’s been easy on anyone,” my dad replied, still rubbing Mom’s shoulder.

  “No, it hasn’t.” King Henry’s brows drew together as he stared at his wife’s empty chair. “You see, she’s in a difficult position, being both a queen and a mother.”

  “Is that supposed to make us feel sorry for her?” Mom asked.

  The king took a breath, his hand trembling ever so slightly. He tucked it below the table, into his lap. “I’m only hoping to provide a small sliver of insight. As queen, she’s expected to put her country above all else. But as a mother, her only concern is her child. It’s a unique and difficult position to be in.”

  Mom twisted her napkin in her lap, similar to the way I was wringing mine in my own lap. Her stiff posture slackened. “As a person, I try to live my life thinking of the good of humanity. But when I became a mother, all idealism caved to the well-being of my child.” Mom looked at me, her eyes shining. “I think I might understand where your wife is coming from.” Her attention turned toward the king as her brow carved high into her forehead. “But if she implies my daughter is a money-grubbing, title-seeking seductress in my presence again, I’m throwing down.”

  King Henry’s mouth moved. “From one mother to another, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  Chapter 19

  It had been a long day in Dr. Fleming’s office, thanks to what felt like half of the castle staff coming down with some kind of virus. My back was hurting, my feet were numb, and I could have fallen asleep at the desk if I closed my eyes.

  Two weeks had passed since my parents’ weekend visit, and even though the king and queen had told me I could invite them back whenever I wanted, I’d kept that carte blanche on the downlow. The weekend had ended on a higher note than it had begun, but the theme of those thirty-six hours had been clenched jaws, tight lips, and frequent mentions of the weather.

  I was down to the last chart when I couldn’t fight off my hunger a minute longer. Digging around in the top drawer where I kept a hoard of chocolate-and-peanut candy bars, I ripped open the first one my fingers touched. I bit off a third of it in one bite as I finished scrolling Dr. Fleming’s notes for the last patient of the day.

  A rap sounded outside the door, which was promptly followed by a figure marching inside the office. I resisted the urge to cross my fingers and go in search of garlic.

  “There’s a satellite call for you,” Mrs. Hutchinson announced, setting down in front of me the laptop she was holding.

  I instantly perked up. Only one person on the planet would be calling me via a satellite feed.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hutchinson,” Edward’s voice streamed from the laptop.

  “Your Royal Highness.” She tipped her head at the screen before spinning it toward me.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hutchinson,” I repeated, pasting on a smile.

  Her response to me was a tight-lipped frown before whisking out of the room in such a way it seemed she might have something riding up her butt.

  I turned my attention to the laptop screen, beaming. “You really know how to make a girl’s day.”

  “You make my every day simply by breathing, so I need to seriously up my game.” Even through the filter of a small screen, Edward made the air in the room thin.

  I glanced at the door to make sure Mrs. Hutchinson had closed it. She had, but knowing her, she was probably waiting right outside to make sure I didn’t sully Prince Edward’s reputation any further. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, and I’m thrilled a few-minute live feed every ten days makes you so happy.”

  “But you’ll be back soon.” I rolled my chair closer to the desk.

  “That’s what I keep reminding myself.” Edward leaned in closer too. The shadows under his eyes suggested sleep had been in short supply, and the scruff covering his jawline hinted that daily shaves weren’t high on the priority list. “So how was your day?”

  “My day was good. Long,” I said, closing the last file. “How about yours? Or wait. Yours is just getting started, right? How was yesterday then?”

  I glanced at the clock, figuring it was probably close to six in the morning there. He’d been in eastern Africa the past week, talking with government and tribal leaders, strategizing real solutions to the actual problems that people faced. Reading an email recap of his day made me feel like a serious underachiever.

  “Good. Long.” His smile was tired. And perfect. “Expecting the same today. That’s why I wanted to get it started off right.”

  “It’s exhausting work making the world a better place.”

  “Also extremely glamorous work.” He leaned away from the camera, motioning at his canvas tent and meager living arrangements.

  “That tent makes the castle look like a fraternity bathroom at the end of fall quarter. So glamorous.” I couldn’t stop smiling at him.

  We managed to exchange emails and messages between these live calls, but this was only the third one since he’d left. Regardless of the communication barrier, we were mastering the long-distance relationship thing.

  “Enough about me, tell me what’s new with you. How’s the doctor thing coming along? Still enjoying it?”

  I lifted the pen I was holding, glancing at the container of antibacterial wipes beside me on the desk. “I’m pretty much a glorified custodian meets bookkeeper, but the experience has been eye-opening.”

  “Good or bad eye-opening?” Edward picked up a tin cup with steam billowing over the edges. For some reason, the thought of coffee made my stomach churn, which was extremely strange, given that most mornings, I wished I could hook up to an IV drip of java.

  �
��Good. I love the idea of helping people in such a tangible way.”

  “Sounds like the experiment’s been a successful one.”

  “It has.” Clicking the pen, I set it down. “What about you? How has your stint as a future king settled with you?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, his mouth moving. “Better than expected. Though it pains me to admit it.”

  “So there’s more to being king than wearing funny outfits and waving at crowds?” My eyes rounded. “Shocking.”

  He blinked at me, trying to stave off his amusement. “It’s like you said. I like the idea of being able to help people.”

  I tucked my leg beneath me, resisting the urge to touch the screen. “You’re staying safe?”

  “Of course. In fact, I’d be willing to bet you’re in more danger at the castle than I am here in the neutral zone of two warring tribes.”

  I bit off another bite of my candy bar. “You’re probably right.” When I noticed the crease fold between his brows, I tried to backpedal. “Actually, it’s not that bad. It’s gotten way better since I first moved in.”

  “Is that why Mrs. Hutchinson still can’t hear your name without looking like she’s about to have an alien baby explode out of her chest?”

  “Vivid. And gruesome.” I lifted my finger at him. “But ever so accurate.”

  His low-timbre chuckle rattled through the speakers. “And my parents?”

  The corners of my eyes creased as I pieced my words together carefully. “They’re dealing with it . . . better than they were at first. Your dad carries on a full conversation with me now, and your mom doesn’t stare at me like she’s plotting ways to exile me from the planet anymore.”

  Despite the way he laughed, his eyes didn’t match. “How’s my father been?”

  “Good. I swear other than a few slurred words and hand tremors, no one would ever believe he’s ill.” I made sure to talk quietly in case Mrs. Hutchinson had her ear to the door. “You should see his face when he talks about you. It’s like you’re the holy trinity rolled into one earthly being.”