A Royal Wedding: The Royals Series

by Brown, Tara

  “No, he’s ancient. Absolutely not.” She wrinkled her nose but laughed. “And his son isn’t nearly handsome nor rich enough to catch Linna’s discerning eye.”

  “You mean judgy as hell. I’m FaceTiming.” I pressed “video chat” and waited as it rang loudly, echoing off the luxurious walls of the hallway and parlor as we entered the silent room.

  “What?” Linna answered loudly. “Where the hell are you?”

  “Look who I’m with!” I knelt and got Oswald in the camera. He panted and licked my face, making her gush and me smile.

  “Ozzy, my love! Are you bringing him over?”

  “Possibly. What are you doing?”

  “Having a drink. Are you coming or what?” She waggled her eyebrows. She was too cheery and bright. There was a boy involved.

  “I think we both know I can’t come there. The city is alive with the Fin Club. Who’s with you?” I narrowed my gaze as I heard voices.

  “Carter, Bea, me, and my new friend, Riley. He knows Bea.” She turned the phone and scanned the table. Everyone waved at me. Carter and Bea were snuggled into each other, and whoever Riley was, he smiled wide, looking cute. “You coming back anytime soon? Did Mary come with you to the monks’?” she asked again. Her British accent was now a thing. British accent with American wording. Though we had all changed; years spent educating ourselves in the UK and Europe would do that. My vocabulary had changed a lot, Jess no longer dumbed everything down for us, and Linna had sucked up the accent.

  “No, I’m visiting Mary.” I didn't say mansion or palace. Linna would lose it.

  “Where?” she asked, her tone growing severe.

  I was saved by the bell in the form of a noisy Mary, “You ran into Riley?” She shoved her face into the FaceTime chat. “Interesting. I was just discussing your discerning eye.”

  “Mary!” Linna squealed. “I love you, Mary!”

  “I love you too, Mary. Force Fin to be fun! Come on, Chica!” Carter shouted in the background. “No one will even notice you, Fin.”

  “I’ll message you when I get back to the hotel.”

  “Fine, whatever. Wanker.” Linna flipped me the bird and pressed the phone off, freezing my screen with an image of her middle finger. She knew I was at the mansion and was pissed.

  “Dick,” I muttered and put the phone down, ignoring the many texts still unread or answered. “Who is Riley?” I asked Mary as I sat in a stiff chair and continued to rub the dog’s soft head as he gave me the closed-eyes smile.

  “That was Riley Fitzpatrick. He’s a keeper for Manchester United.”

  “Another soccer player? Man, she has a type. Is he from here?”

  “Football, not soccer, and the last one played rugby. And no, Riley’s from Kent. He’s in for the funeral. His father knew mine quite well. His dad’s a banker. Wealthy family. Good connections. Excellent education. You really need to learn to keep up on who’s who.” She rolled her eyes and rang the bell. “Now spill.” She folded her arms. “I’ve ordered tea and while we wait for it, you will spill your tea.”

  “It sounds forced when you say it like that.” I fought a laugh. Her American slang was still rusty, though I did notice as much as they’d had an effect on the way we spoke, we had also changed theirs.

  “Tea!” Mary stayed on track, bloodhound style, quite typical for her.

  “What tea?” I played dumb, also typical.

  “Why are you and Aiden done? He refuses to speak to me on it, and I want some answers, dammit.” Her golden cheeks flushed with color. “And you ran off from the wake, plainly stricken. Unusual behavior for a girl who broke my brother’s heart. If anything, you’re the one who seems heartbroken. And to make matters worse, yesterday Alex was up our asses all day. As if perhaps she’s worried about you being here with my brother. My mother denies knowing anything, but in my heart of hearts I’m convinced she did this. All of this is untoward, and I haven’t had you alone to grill you, so here we are. Spill!”

  “Dude, we both know if he said there was nothing to discuss, I need to respect his wishes.”

  “Since when?” She scoffed, almost coughing she laughed so hard. “You never listen to him. So don't pretend you’re about to start now.”

  “Fine, but if he gets pissed at me for discussing this, that’s on you.”

  “Done, I’m hardly scared of him,” Mary lied. “Now talk.”

  “I don't know where to start,” I stalled, unable to tell her we broke up because her family used me and treated me horribly. But I dreaded coming off as the villain to her too. I loved Mary. I didn't want her to think that much less of me. “What has he told you so far—?”

  “Fin?” As if on cue, the door opened and Aiden stepped into the parlor, sucking all the oxygen out with him. “I thought I heard your voice in the hall. I didn't realize you were here.” He had heard what I said. What I was about to say. His blue eyes were stormy with annoyance.

  “Hi.” Seeing him hurt me, reinjuring the crack lines and faults in my heart. Being here in his country was brutal, so near and so far at the same time, but seeing him up close like this was a whole other form of agony. My eyes betrayed me, focusing on the parts of him I missed the most. Lips, eyes, hands—

  “It’s fortunate you’re here. I meant to speak with you. Mary, could you excuse us for a moment?” He opened the door wider for her to leave.

  “Oh uhhh—” She hesitated before getting up. “I suppose I should ensure they’re doing a full tray of desserts for tea anyway.” She glanced at me, checking the exact same way Oswald was, both paused in the doorway. “Any requests?” she asked me cautiously.

  “Whatever you get is fine.” I nodded to answer her questioning stare. My bravery and firmness was a lie. The moment he closed the door I couldn't breathe. The smell of him, the way he looked in his casual suit, the tension in his balled fists; all of it overwhelmed me. He stepped in front of the door, trapping me.

  “Fin—”

  The way he said my name—

  “Mary said you were in meetings all day,” my thoughts accidentally slipped from my lips.

  “Did you only come here because you thought I was out?” he asked in a low tone.

  “Yeah. I wouldn't have if I’d known you were here.” I was apologetic but it came out slightly cruel.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” He dared to meet my stare, captivating me further. “We need to talk.”

  “I’m so sorry about your father.”

  “Thank you—”

  “And I’m sorry I’m here, I know you asked me to stay at the hotel.” The words left my lips in a hurry, desperate for this to be over, “I didn’t want to come, but Mary told Tracy to bring me over. I didn’t know until I was in the driveway,” I repeated. Tension forced my shoulders up like earrings.

  “Stop apologizing, I’m pleased you’re here.” He didn't sound or look pleased. “Mary misses you.”

  “I miss her too.” I swallowed hard, trying to think of something to say but failing. The silence was thick and heady. “Well, it was nice seeing you again,” I said what I hoped he would take as a great cue to exit and end this misery before I had a stroke. “Oh, Hattie and everyone back in Nova Scotia send their love and regards. As does my father.”

  “Thank you,” he said, exasperatedly, making me flinch. “We need to talk,” he repeated, this time softening his tone even more so. I barely heard him, the air was so thick I was drowning in it.

  “We did talk.” Dear God. “I mean, we are talking.” Sweet Jesus, save me from myself. I wanted to sound indifferent, which was going swimmingly. Well done, Fin. “And I’m leaving tomorrow. So you won’t have to see me again until maybe Carter and Bea get married. That should be the next thing, right?” I asked, not really sure why I felt the need to fill the air. Sweat popped from the pores on my brow. I wanted to wipe it but I sat, frozen. “By then this will all be water under the bridge. We can just be friends maybe.” Why were my lips still moving?

  “Is that why
you came?” He stepped closer, biting his lip and killing me with his stare. “To the funeral I mean—you’re my friend?”

  “I came for Mary and Johan and Jack—”

  Oh come on, Fin. Don't be a bitch. His dad just died.

  “Right.” He winced, visibly stung by the comment. “Of course.”

  “But I am really sorry about him dying.” Was I repeating myself or was the heat of the room making me hallucinate? “And I’m sorry you’re stuck with this.” I lifted my hands in the air as if to signify the mansion. “The helm. The kingdom. I hoped you would both have more time.” Why wasn’t he leaving and saving us both? I could taste the awkwardness in the air.

  “Yes,” he said uncomfortably, maybe forcing the conversation too. “So you’re staying with Mary tonight?”

  “Hotel. Linna is with me.” Though she refused to come anywhere near the mansion.

  “You think that’s wise?” He furrowed his brow, twisting my stomach up in knots. “With the paparazzi aware of you’re being here now? I was informed by the guards that a large crowd has formed at the hotel in hopes of getting a photo of you.”

  “Well, your mother is the one who leaked my being here and then forced Tracy to drop me off at the public entrance—” I stopped myself but not before I managed to create that same look as always in his eyes. The moment we fought about his mother or Alex, or anything along those lines, his eyes filled with a desperate need to shut me up. He’d worn the same expression the moment he ended things between us. His father had become sick again—so sick he couldn't leave his bed—and Aiden grew anxious. And one fight about his mother later, we were done. “It doesn't matter.”

  Now, hindsight and all, I did agree my poorly timed fight hadn’t been fair. It was, as Aiden did say, “in poor form.”

  “I think you should stay here tonight. We don't need the negative publicity of you in town at the bars—”

  “I’m not staying here,” I snapped. “I’m fine at the hotel. You haven’t noticed I was here at all until now—what does it matter? This is my last night. And I haven’t been in the bars, not once.”

  Shit.

  I needed him to leave before this tense pregame warm-up moved into the blowout that was about to happen. God, if you’re listening, please don’t let this go any further!

  “Please stay,” he said with a tone, inviting but also laced with a possibility of murder during the stay. He stepped closer to the chair, towering over me. “I just want you to be safe.” He was currently the only obvious threat to my safety.

  “That isn’t really your concern anymore.” And there she was. The petty was back. And strong, ready for the game . . .

  “It will always be my concern!” he barked.

  “I think you need to remember we broke up! Nothing about me is your business anymore.” I stood, staring up at him, speaking as if this were nothing, “You broke up with me. How did you phrase it?—oh right, you couldn't stand to be with someone so childish and immature. Trust me, Aiden, I haven’t changed.” Regardless of the fact I’d put myself down with the comment, it felt like a win. I lifted my face higher, uncomfortable at the angle but refusing to step back and give him the satisfaction of making me shrink away. Though at this distance, he surely saw the sweat glistening on my brow. “You don't get a say in what I do, we aren’t together anymore.”

  His eyes flashed rage as his lips trembled with the want to scream things at me. I knew this quake well. But he fought it. Blinking an inky set of lashes, he swallowed all his hateful things and nodded. “How could I forget?” slipped out. He stared at my lips briefly, inching forward and lowering ever so slightly, enough to make me think he would kiss me.

  I braced for it, the moment we would both lose control.

  The smell of him was intoxicatingly dangerous to add to the proximity and heated emotions.

  But instead he whispered, “Forgive me for intruding.” His breathy words landed on my lips delicately. He waited one more second, before turning and walking out.

  Instead of doing any of the things I wanted to, the things that proved I was everything he had accused me of being, I counted backward from ten and reined in my temper until I lost the rage. Or rather it was replaced by the lingering extreme sadness I had been fighting. I staggered backward and collapsed into the chair, my heart pounding like it wanted to leap from my chest and follow him down the hall, leaving a bloody trail.

  Mary came into the room a minute later, smiling wide and Oswald attacked me a second time. “Aiden said you’re staying for dinner and he’s having your things brought over from the hotel. You’re sleeping here tonight.” She was way too excited about this. “Sleepover!”

  I was staying because he said I was. He had disregarded my anger and decided for me once again.

  It was going to be a long night, but I wouldn't be staying over.

  4

  Relationships are like buying a car. You have to test-drive some pieces of shit before you find one you love.

  Life is short, eat dessert first

  “Salt?” Mary held the silver saltshaker in my direction, her lips toying with a subtle grin.

  “No, thanks,” I muttered, hoping she would stop enjoying my captivity so much. To her it was his way of making amends and trying to win me back. Of course, not knowing he was the one to break things off, naturally she was unaware of how painful this was for me.

  “Where is Johan?” Aiden’s mother asked, scanning the table.

  “He’s gone for the week, off to enjoy some last-minute spoils of summer and decompress before classes begin again,” Mary lied well enough, I assumed she also knew he was on his way to Spokane.

  “Did he take Tracy?”

  “No, one of the others, Mother. He’s fine,” Aiden offered. Likely Johan didn't know he was meeting a guard at the airport in Toulouse. A surprise attack. I knew that one well.

  “I assume he’s excited classes start again soon,” Alex said as she lifted her last bite of salmon. She ate like she was living her last day and never gained weight. I had begun to think she’d sold her soul to the devil. “As you two must be?” she asked me the same question she had asked three times since my arrival in Andorra.

  “Yes, we all are,” Mary answered for me. “Anxious for the shenanigans to begin.” She winked.

  I feigned delight in whatever she was alluding to, assuming the desired outcome was torturing Aiden and their mother. Though shenanigans weren’t on my curriculum this year. I had to finish strong if I wanted to go to Britain’s weird version of law school, and I had to TA for McNeill to ensure my foot was in all the doors. Not to mention working at the Walled Gardens. I’d be lucky to even see my friends.

  “I think it’ll be a marvelous year.” Mary nudged me.

  Aiden’s eyes narrowed as if this bothered him. The reaction forced me to continue in this line of cruelty, entirely out of spite. Petty, hateful spite. “It should be an interesting year. Linna has met some soccer player, so I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of them—”

  “Footballer,” Mary corrected me. “Jack’s favorite. Riley Fitzpatrick.” She teased her youngest brother, “You met him a few times when you were much younger, but he didn't play then. His father is a friend of ours.”

  “No way!” Jack’s eyes popped open wide. “What about him?”

  “He’s with Linna,” Mary continued coyly.

  “Linna met Fitzpatrick? Where?”

  “He’s here now, silly. Came for Father’s funeral.” She laughed.

  “He’s with Carter and Bea and Linna, apparently,” I answered, confused that Jack hadn’t noticed Riley at the funeral, but then I recalled how busy the wake had been. It was easy to miss people in a sea of faces. “They’re at a pub.”

  “What! Why does no one tell me anything? I didn't know he came for the funeral.” Jack bounced out of his chair, pulling out his phone and texting as he left.

  “And we’re down another son.” His mother’s cold gaze made its way to me as she plac
ed her own fork down. “Why do I feel it’s safe to assume you’re responsible for both?” She didn't bother trying to be polite to me anymore.

  Mary’s hand squeezed my leg under the table. Alex’s lips lifted into the smallest of grins, but she kept her head down to hide it. Aiden said nothing but clenched his jaw.

  “Is that the time already?” I glimpsed my phone. “I meant to meet Linna ages ago and forgot to tell her I was staying for dinner. Thank you, it was delicious. And lovely to see you all again.” I smiled at Aiden with the least amount of effort I could manage and got up, forcing him to stand as well.

  “There’s still dessert,” Mary growled.

  “Yes, but I’m not about the dessert life anymore. Photographers are everywhere these days. Thanks anyway.” I squeezed her and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “See you in St Andrews in a couple of days.”

  “Don't go,” she whispered back.

  “Love you.” I kissed again. “Excuse me.” I left the table too, following Jack in hopes of escaping the confines of the mansion walls. The tension in my body was so heavy I was nearly gasping at the thought of clean, fresh air. The scent of Aiden’s cologne was trapped in my nostrils, forcing me to suffer an unending bouquet of regret. Adding to that, the way his mother and Alex treated me, and I was dying.

  And while the queen had lost her husband and had a right to be a bitch, I didn't have to take it. I wasn't family or her whipping boy. And I wasn't dating Aiden, so why should I?