by Ember Casey
“Entertaining. Or being some sort of official musician.” Pax shakes his head. “It’s going to turn into me making a fool of myself.”
“Pax…” I sit beside him, taking his hand in mine. “That isn’t what we talked about at all.”
“Whatever. Being some idiot entertainment public relations dipshit—”
“Arts liaison. Or advisor.” I force my plastic smile again for the sake of my brother. “Pax seems to think we don’t need this sort of service in our country.”
“Because you don’t. And what the hell would I do? Schedule bullshit symphony performances? It’s kind of a worthless thing.”
“Nonsense.” Andrew glances between the two of us. “Though, I’m sure we could enhance the idea a bit.”
“Enhance…” Pax rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, I’ll probably get the keys to the concert hall or something.”
“Will you stop? Please?” I try to keep the emotion from my voice, but it’s proving difficult. “You aren’t a victim here, Pax. It seems like a perfect fit—”
“It would be a perfect fit for Mick. Not for me.” He looks at me for a moment before he stands, turning to face Andrew. “You come to fetch me for your dad?”
“No.” Andrew’s brow furrows again. “I came to make sure you’re ready for your meeting this afternoon. To be sure you had a concrete plan to present when you meet.”
“Or…to make me look like an asshole in front of my wife?”
I stand. “Why are you doing this? You’re frustrated—I get that. But we’ve already come this far. You’ve already—”
“Had my hair cut?” He runs his fingers through what’s left of his hair. “My beard shaved…what’s next, Sophia? Seriously? Your father doesn’t want us to have kids for a decade—do you think the next step is to have my balls cut off?”
I stare at him for a moment. And when I speak, my voice is so quiet, I barely recognize it. “If you didn’t want to do this, all you had to do was say so—”
“No, I don’t think that was one of the choices, Sophia. I wanted to be with you. And to be with you, I had to jump through every single hoop your dad set in front of me. And I have. Many times.”
“I know. And I appreciate it—”
“I know you appreciate it. But no one else does.” He turns to Andrew. “You assholes come to these stupid lessons and stand on the sidelines, making fun of me—”
“We’ve done nothing of the sort. We’ve encouraged you—”
“Encouraged me? You stand in the doorways pointing and laughing. At that stupid fencing lesson yesterday, I thought you were going to piss yourself, you were laughing so hard.”
Andrew sighs. “That was William. I don’t believe I’ve ever laughed that hard—”
“Whatever. You know exactly what I mean.” He frowns at Andrew for a moment before turning to me. “I’m done, Sophia. I don’t know what else I can do.”
“You can marry me—”
“I already married you! And I still don’t see why that isn’t fucking good enough!” Pax’s hands clench into fists at his side.
“We’re almost done. We’re so close—”
“Two more weeks of this shit?” He shakes his head violently. “I don’t know how I’ve survived the last fourteen days. And now…” He rubs his jaw. “Now I have to go accept some stupid job that I don’t need or want.”
“It isn’t a job.” Andrew’s voice is even, almost comforting. “It’s a role—”
“It’s a job, and you both know it.” He walks over to the wall, and I could swear he’s about to punch it, his fists are clenched so tightly. He turns back to face me. “And I’m not going to do it. I’m not taking some stupid fucking job. Either you and your family take me the way I am—and for what I am—or I give up. I’m done.”
Pax
I thought I was doing okay, really I did.
I’ve been going to all of my “prince lessons.” I’ve been wearing a stiff, stuffy suit to dinner every night and using the right piece of silverware most of the time. Hell, I’ve even cut way back on the number of times I’ve called Sophia’s brothers by the nicknames I’ve given them. I’ve played along, followed the rules, mostly stayed within the lines.
I had no idea how close I was to snapping.
My outburst is out of the blue, even to me. All this time I’ve been telling myself that this is what I wanted—that I’m doing this for Sophia. For us. A few weeks of bullshit and we could live happily ever after.
I guess all that stress has built up.
Andrew and Sophia are both looking at me like I’ve gone insane. I should’ve known they wouldn’t understand—they grew up in this life, with these rules. They haven’t spent the last couple of weeks trying to be someone else. Still, I know I’ve overreacted. Two weeks of stuffy suits will do that to you.
I run a hand through my hair, trying not to notice how short it feels. Trying to calm myself.
“Do you mean that, Pax?” Sophia says. Her eyes are locked on my face.
I can’t even remember the last thing I said. I rack my brain and take another deep breath.
Oh, that’s right. I told her I was fucking done. That I’m tired of playing her family’s game and pretending to be someone else. And while that’s true, on many levels, there’s no reason for me to be a jerk about it.
“Look,” I say in defeat. “I’m just exhausted, okay? Lately my entire life has revolved around trying to be someone else. I’m trying, Sophia. Really, I am. But it wears a man down, trying to do that day in and day out.” I step closer to her, take her hands in mine. “And is that really what you want? The man your father wants me to be? That’s not who I am, Sophia. That’s not the man you fell in love with.” I crack a half smile. “I know that you women love to change your men, but—”
“I’m not trying to change you,” she says quickly. “That was never what this was about.” She squeezes my fingers. “I’m not ashamed of who you are, Pax. I just wanted you to get along with my family.”
“I want to get along with them, too,” I say, glancing at Andrew. “But I’m not sure they feel the same way about me.”
“Why do you think I’m here?” Andrew replies. “Do you think this is part of my job description? No, I’m here because I want what’s best for my sister. And whatever my personal feelings on the matter, she loves you. She deserves to be happy. So I’m helping you.”
“Yeah, you really sound like you like me.”
“Our father is…very traditional,” Andrew goes on as if I haven’t spoken. “And I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t always agree with his choices. But I also recognize when it’s futile to try and change his mind. But even if you can’t argue with him, you might still be able to…persuade him.”
“All right, prince-y boy. Lay it on me. How do you persuade His Majesty?”
“To start, by courting his good favor,” Andrew says. “What do you think you’re accomplishing by begrudgingly forcing your way through all of this? Do you think you’re impressing him? By doing the bare minimum and making it obvious to everyone every chance you get how much you hate it? Do you think that’s winning you any points with him? No—if you want to win him over, you have to go bigger.”
I’m a little terrified of where he’s going with this. “What are you suggesting?”
“Our father lives and breathes politics,” Andrew says. “And the way to accomplish anything with him is through politics. He doesn’t care about how you feel. He cares about what you choose to do. He wants to see you play his game, and he wants to see you do it willingly and with skill.”
“I’m working on my skills,” I say. “My schedule is full of lessons every day.”
Andrew shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean, though I think what you’re learning there will help you. You have to make an effort. A grand gesture, if you will. You need to court his favor.”
“Court—like date him?” I ask incredulously.
Andrew doesn’t look
amused. “I mean the way you would a potential business partner, or in your case, I suppose, a record producer you’re trying to impress. Think of it as the ultimate audition.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Okay, I get that much…but how exactly do you ‘audition’ to a king?”
“I can’t do all the work for you,” Andrew says. “Or it sort of defeats the purpose. But you need to take some initiative here. If you do, my father will notice. He might not suddenly retract everything he’s demanded of you, but he’ll be a lot more amenable to your cause.”
Okay, but that still doesn’t help me. How do you ‘court’ a man who rules a country? A man who has more wealth and power than I can even imagine?
“I trust you’ll think of something,” Andrew says. “And for the love of God, try not to turn this into another one of your jokes…”
“I won’t, I won’t,” I grumble.
“Good.” My answer seems to satisfy him for now. “I have some work with the Senate this morning, but I look forward to hearing your solution. I hope you take my advice to heart.” With that, he turns on his heel and heads right back out the door.
When he’s gone, I turn to Sophia. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Was your father this difficult with your brothers’ wives?”
“Not even close,” she replies. “But he was definitely this hard on my brothers. Albeit hard on them in a different way.”
I sigh. What does Andrew want me to do? How do I impress a king?
Under different circumstances, with a different person, I’d know exactly what to do—bring in Twisted Throne, put on a private, mind-blowing show, maybe even sample a few unreleased songs. But I have a feeling that His Royal Snootiness wouldn’t be impressed by that.
But maybe I can use my skills in another way…
And Sophia has told me a few things about what her father likes—horseback riding, for one. And I know he likes feeling superior to me. Maybe that’s what I should do—invite him on a horseback ride, suck up to him a lot, that sort of thing. Maybe I can even write and perform a song about him.
I wince. Maybe not about him. But I can write one about Montovia. Or about how much I love and respect his daughter. The more I think about it, the more I’m liking this idea.
“What are you thinking?” Sophia asks suspiciously. “The look on your face is scaring me.”
I grin. “It’s a surprise.” I pull her close. “Your father is going to have no idea what hit him.”
Sophia
Pax has been gone for far too long, and I’m beginning to worry about him. After the incident in our suite this morning he said he needed some time to himself, which only seemed fair. Even I would admit the ‘prince lessons’ have gone a bit far—and some of my brothers are finding them all too amusing. I knew it was taking its toll on him, but I guess I didn’t realize how much. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have scheduled as much free time for him as I had ‘prince’ time. We’ve barely even seen Montovia outside the palace walls, and I’d like nothing more than to show him more of the country I love—the entire reason for him going through this ordeal in the first place.
My mother has invited us for lunch today, but there’s no way for me to get the message to Pax. Wherever it is he took off to, he didn’t take his phone. Probably on purpose, though I can’t blame him. I can only hope that he chooses to come back.
I make my way to my mother’s informal dining room. It isn’t often that we eat here—she usually invites guests to take tea with her here in the afternoons.
She’s already seated when I enter, and she stands to greet me, holding out her arms. “Sophia! It feels like it’s been too long since we’ve spoken.”
We embrace, and she hugs me tightly. I can’t help but smile. “We spoke at dinner last night, Mother.”
“Well, I’d hardly call what we do at dinner speaking.” She releases me, motioning for me to sit in the chair across from her. “Where is your husband?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. And I apologize for his absence. He’d already left when I received your invitation for lunch.”
“Nonsense. No need to apologize.” Her lips spread into a smile. “Perhaps it was meant to be. We haven’t had a mother-daughter luncheon in some time.”
I return her smile as I take my seat. It has been too long. My mother and I have always been quite close, but I’ve barely seen her alone since I met Pax. My stomach twists a bit with guilt at the thought.
“Your wedding plans are coming along nicely. You’ve been so busy with your husband that I haven’t had the chance to show you everything. I hope you trust my judgment.”
“Of course I do, Mother.” I spread my napkin on my lap. “And I appreciate your attention to detail. You know it isn’t my strongest skill.”
She pauses, still smiling. “Of all my children, I feel I probably know you best, Sophia. And I know something is troubling you.”
I try to keep my expression from changing, but my mother knows me too well—it won’t matter if I fake a grin because she’ll see right through it.
“Are you and your husband having…difficulties?” She reaches over and places her hand on top of mine. “The first year is the most difficult, especially after the newness wears off. But you can keep things interesting. Try new things.”
My brow furrows. “Try new…things?”
She nods. “When your father and I were first married, there were still sparks. Things were still new enough that each night was like a new experience. But after a while, that shine begins to fade. And when it does, you can always do something new to keep things…fun. Try new positions or—”
“My God, Mother! You’re giving me…” My voice drops to almost a whisper—even though we’re alone and in an informal dining room, I know how completely inappropriate this sort of talk is at the table, particularly in my family. “You’re giving me sex advice?”
Her smile widens and she pats my hand. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. All married couples go through it. Since you married so far away—and so suddenly—I never had the chance to talk to you about it. I always meant to. I would have had the same conversation with your brothers, but it seemed…inappropriate. If your father were a bit more open, I’m sure he would have—”
“Mother.” My cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and I take a long drink of water before I can speak again. “I’m…fine. In that department.”
“Good.” She pats my hand again and gives me a smile as the waiter serves the lunch dishes to us.
As soon as he leaves, she turns back to me. “Just remember that when things get a bit…boring, you can talk to me if you like.”
“I think…” I shake my head, still not quite sure how in the world we came to this point at all. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Even as I say the words, I can’t believe this is happening. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined my mother giving me sex tips. Just the thought of her and my father… Ugh. It feels as though ants are crawling beneath my skin.
We eat for a few minutes before my mother turns to me again. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you and your husband to lunch.” She tilts her head. “And it wasn’t so that I might help you in the bedroom.” She smiles again. “I hope you know I would never want to embarrass you in front of your husband. I only meant to help.”
“I…know.” I take in a long breath. “Why did you ask us to lunch?”
“I’d heard about these lessons you’ve arranged. And I was wondering if I might help.”
I nod. “William came up with many of the ideas. I helped to arrange the instructors.”
“And it seems you’ve done a fine job of it. Monsieur Bonnaire has clearly been working diligently with your husband. It shows at dinner each night. Of course, it would be terribly rude to comment on his manners at dinner, but I wanted him to know how well he’s doing.”
“He doesn’t seem to think so. I think he was thinking about leaving this morning. He nearly snapped in half. It all may h
ave been a bit too much for him.” I shake my head. “And William and Leopold are having a bit too much fun with it.”
“Ah, yes, I can see that happening. I’ll speak with them. My understanding is that your husband has been working quite hard at these lessons of his. He certainly doesn’t need to be the butt of any jokes.”
“Well, he does sometimes ask for it. He pokes as much fun at my brothers as they do at him. But he’s trying to fit into our world. It’s difficult for him.”
“And your father hasn’t been making things any easier, has he?” Her voice is sharp, and she takes a sip from her water glass. “I’ll speak with him. With all of them, if need be. I should have done it sooner, but I’ve been fairly consumed with planning this wedding of yours.”
“I do appreciate it, Mother. And if I can help, I’d be happy to.”
“You know how much I love planning these events.” Her smile appears genuinely happy. “And you have enough to do, trying to bring this husband of yours into our family.”
“I suppose I do—”
I’m interrupted by a breathless Pax, running into the dining room. He grins at me before turning to my mother. “Sorry I didn’t get the invite until now.” He turns back to me. “But you need to come with me. I have something to show you.”
Pax
It’s only after the words are out of my mouth that I realize I’m being rude. I’m just so excited that I didn’t stop to think—obviously I need to hammer those etiquette lessons into my head a few more times.
“I’m sorry,” I say, turning back to the queen. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just go wait…”
“Nonsense,” the queen says, rising. “Obviously this is something important.”
At first I wonder if she’s being sarcastic, but her smile seems genuine. She takes my hand in hers and pats the back of it.
“My daughter is lucky to have you,” she says. She doesn’t even give me a chance to respond before sweeping out of the room.
