Ruling the Princess

by Christi Barth

  “I’ll admit, the cake tasting did not suck. I wonder if I could claim the tradition of a birthday muffin and ask her for samples of every flavor he makes.”

  “Ludovico would do that even without a made-up tradition.” Genny bit back a smile. Kelsey still didn’t accept that she simply had to ask for a thing, and the staff would make it happen. “He wants you to be happy here. We all do.”

  “I know. I’m grateful that you suggested I name a charity to accept donations rather than gifts. It’d be so hard to accept gifts from all these…strangers.”

  “Extended family and very important political personages, but yes—” Genevieve broke off. Ahhh. The problem was blindingly obvious. Strangers. “You miss Mallory. You wish she was coming to the party.”

  “It won’t feel like a true birthday without her. Even when we were in different colleges, she’d come spend the night with me to celebrate. I know it shouldn’t matter.”

  “Of course she matters.” Genny couldn’t believe she’d overlooked the most important guest. “We’ll set up a video link. Have a monitor in the room so she can watch everything, with an earpiece for you like the royal protection service uses. You’ll be able to talk to her as if she’s standing right next to you.”

  “Really?”

  “I’ll get on it as soon as we finish our lunch.” Quickly, she ran through the pros and cons of one more disclosure and decided lifting Kelsey’s spirits trumped everything else. “And I’ll let you in on a secret. As long as you promise to still act surprised.”

  “What?”

  “Elias is planning a party on the birthday you’re used to, in September. Mallory will be here by then. It’ll be much smaller. Just close friends. No tiaras. There’s even a rumor of a karaoke machine being rented.”

  Kelsey propped her chin on her hand—newly free of its bulky cast—with a dreamy expression. “He’s the best. So thoughtful. So…wonderful.”

  That. That expression. That’s what Genevieve had to school her face not to do every time she thought about Theo. Theo, who’d been so thoughtful to plan a getaway for Genny-the-person, not the princess.

  As soon as Kelsey’s party was behind them, she’d have an emergency martini night in her suite with Kelsey and Ambra to figure out how best to proceed with Theo. How to turn their impossible situation into at least a possibility worth trying.

  Anything that made her feel this good had to be worth fighting for, right?

  The footman opened the double doors but didn’t get a chance to announce or ask permission for visitors before Ambra blew right past him. Gran would’ve had a conniption fit. Fired the footman and kicked Ambra out on the spot.

  Considering that her friend lived and breathed protocol more so than a fisherman charted the tides, this interruption was…unusual.

  Genevieve nodded at the footman. “It’s all right—I’ll receive Lady Ambra.”

  Dropping the obligatory curtsey to both princesses, Ambra said, “I should think so. This is an emergency.”

  “I’d say the emergency is that your watch must be broken. We were supposed to meet for dinner, not lunch.” Even though she’d been sorely tempted to cancel and spend the evening with Theo. Because Genny was deep, deep in the thoroughly besotted stage and wanted to spend every spare second with him.

  “This can’t wait until dinner.” Ambra crossed her hands over her heart and pulled her mouth downward into a grimace. “I came as soon as I got the heads up to warn you.”

  Ambra had a knack for being melodramatic in regards to all things Genevieve.

  If she got the sniffles, Ambra offered to call in the palace physician. If a photographer caught her in a frown, Ambra suggested setting up a private shoot with him to be captured in a more flattering pose. Her “emergency” could be as simple as her date for tomorrow’s party falling through and disrupting the seating chart.

  “That sounds dire. In what particular corner of the world is the sky falling?” she teased.

  “Yours.” Ambra fished an iPad out of her Louis Vuitton bag and set it down in front of Genevieve. “There are pictures. Of you and your boy toy. On the boat.”

  “He’s not my—” Genevieve stopped talking because, well, she’d literally lost the ability to speak.

  The photos were of them on the boat. Of Genevieve topless.

  Embracing Theo.

  Underneath Theo.

  On her knees in front of him.

  They weren’t HD levels of clarity. Her nipples couldn’t be seen. But there could be no question in anyone’s mind of what the two of them had been doing.

  Kelsey came around behind her to look. Immediately, she gripped Genny’s shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. In a sharp tone, she questioned Ambra. “How did you get these? Did they come with a demand for a payoff? Enough money and they won’t get published?”

  “Money’s not a time machine. There’s no turning back the clock. These photos have already been released to the media.”

  Oh no.

  Oh God.

  It was Genevieve’s worst nightmare come true.

  This time the footman knocked before entering. Although she barely noticed over the loud throb of blood at her…temples? It was unclear. Everything was unclear but the photos in front of her.

  It felt like the whole world had suddenly been covered in cotton balls. Her heart jackhammered in her chest. Dragging in a breath took superhuman effort.

  “Your Highness, your presence is requested in the library.”

  “By whom?” Kelsey asked.

  “The Grand Duchess and the Crown Prince. They, ah, stipulated that it is most urgent.”

  Oh my God, they knew already.

  “Ambra, what else can you tell us?” Kelsey peered closer at the iPad. “Could they be photoshopped?”

  “No,” Genny whispered. “They’re authentic.” On autopilot, she re-folded her napkin and set it next to her plate. Then she stood and shook out the wrinkles from her skirt. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Ambra. I’m afraid it was a bit of a wasted trip, because I have to excuse myself now.” She forced herself to lurch forward. To air-kiss her friend on both cheeks. To smile at the footman as she passed him and started down the hallway.

  Kelsey took Genevieve’s hand. “I’m coming with you.”

  “It’s better that you don’t. This is my mistake. My choice. And thus, now my consequences to handle.”

  “Almost true. You forgot about the part where I’m your sister. Where any problem you have is mine, too.”

  That stopped Genevieve in her tracks at the foot of the dual grand staircase. One set of steps led to the east wing and the privacy of her room where she could fall to pieces in shame. The other set led to the library—and the inevitable dressing down that she deserved.

  “Kelsey. You know our grandmother is…formidable on her best and warmest days. I appreciate your offer, but I don’t think you’re ready for what’s about to unfold.”

  “I’m probably not. But life throws things at you all the time that you’re not ready for. Like living in a fourth floor Midtown walkup with a two-week supply of ramen laid in and discovering that you’re really a princess. I survived that—with the help of my other sister. I figure you’ll survive this better with the help of your sister.”

  Genny wrapped her arms around her. “I love you.” It was the first time she’d said it to Kelsey.

  “I love you, too.” Kelsey flashed her a big, bright, utterly fake smile. “Ready to face the music now?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that makes two of us, then.”

  …

  The breakfast room was where they shared daily schedules. The yellow drawing room was where they gathered to share good news. The library, with its soaring ceilings to accommodate two floors of books, was dark. Almost windowless, except for a few vertical slit
s at the top. Dark wood shelves, dark brown furniture, and shelves of upon shelves of dark brown and burgundy bindings on the books.

  It was where punishments were handed down. Where disappointments were made crystal clear and expectations set higher. Although she loved to read, Genevieve never set foot in there unless summoned. It held only bad memories.

  Today was no exception.

  Christian sat on the couch, wearing a somber look that was rarely, if ever, aimed at her. Which made it all the more disconcerting.

  “Let’s not dance around it, Genevieve. Do you know about the pictures?”

  “Yes.” That at least relieved them of the awkwardness of her big brother showing her topless pictures of herself. She eased down on the opposite couch, with Kelsey right next to her.

  “Did you have any hand in them being sold? Were they taken with your permission?”

  Kelsey audibly gasped at the implication. Genny didn’t. She closed her eyes to absorb the insulting accusation. It was hard to believe the words came from her brother.

  Her brother, who’d gotten in three times as many scrapes and embarrassing situations as her over the years.

  Her brother, who’d so often teased her about being too uptight, too focused on maintaining the fairytale perfect image of a royal family.

  She exhaled a choked-out half sob, half laugh. “Christian, how could you even ask that?”

  “Because it is my duty to ask!” he roared at the top of his lungs, lunging to his feet. “Because I am trying to hold this family together, trying to hold the throne for a man who seemingly doesn’t care. Because I have to do what our father would do. And I hate it.”

  In contrast to his yelling, the room hung, draped in portentous silence for a few long moments.

  Christian was right.

  She owed him, the acting head of the House of Villani, an answer.

  And Genevieve was wracked with guilt for adding to the burdens he already shouldered.

  Head bowed, she said, “No. The pictures were taken without my permission, without my knowledge. I have no idea who took them nor who sold them.”

  “What about Lord Theo? I understand from your protection detail that he arranged the whole trip.”

  “I can vouch that he had nothing to do with this.” Genevieve answered without pausing to think.

  Which was unlike her. She’d spent her whole life carefully weighing the amount of trust she could place in a person. Never, ever giving it wholly. But she did trust Theo.

  Christian stalked over to the ornately carved stand that held the Gutenberg Bible then thumped his fist on the Plexiglas case covering it. “Damn it, Genny, how could you let this happen?”

  “Hey.” Now Kelsey jumped to her feet, bristling. And she only wobbled a little bit in her high-heeled beige pumps. Genny would have to congratulate her later. “This isn’t her fault. Some creep, some greedy pervert, intruded into her personal space. That person is the one to blame. Genevieve did nothing wrong.”

  Christian shook his head. “You’re still learning the ropes—you don’t understand, Kelsey. Our lives are complicated. We don’t have the freedoms of other people.”

  “Are you kidding? You are literally in charge of a kingdom. Your faces are on money and stamps and coasters and towels. You can do whatever you want.”

  “Technically, yes. But it isn’t the Middle Ages. Absolute power isn’t how a constitutional monarchy works. So if we do whatever we want, then we live with the consequences. Which you’re about to see unfold in all their ugliness.”

  The guilt compounded, now, at her sister fighting her battle for her. One that Genevieve knew to be unwinnable. Because she had spent her entire life working to avoid exactly this sort of embarrassing spectacle.

  She’d let…emotion cloud her judgment. Let impulse override ingrained duty and caution.

  She’d put herself, her moment of fun, ahead of the crown and her responsibility as a princess.

  She’d epically fucked up.

  “It is my fault. Thank you, Kelsey. In a perfect world, you’d be right. I should be able to be a little free and reckless on a private boat in the middle of the ocean. But I did know better. Knew there was a chance—no matter how slim—that I could be seen. It was a choice I made. It was the wrong choice.”

  “There’s no sugar-coating it.” Grim-faced, Christian paced the blue and brown swirled Oriental rug, hands behind his back. “This is bad. Bad at the worst possible time. We’ll need to do damage control. Our communications team is already working up a strategy.”

  “I’ll free my schedule to meet with them as soon as they’re ready.”

  From a side chair, her grandmother finally cleared her throat. “Genevieve Eleanor Marie—”

  Holding up a hand, Genny did the impossible. She cut her grandmother off. For the first time in her life. “Just don’t. Don’t list all my names like you did when I was ten to scare me into realizing how seriously I’d screwed up. I’m not a child anymore.”

  “You’re not acting like a child. You’re acting like a hormonal teenager. Like a commoner.”

  Well. That was the second worst insult in her grandmother’s arsenal, coming in only behind “uncouth.”

  Oddly, although Genevieve deeply regretted her actions, her grandmother’s insult spurred the kernel of defensiveness she didn’t know she had. “I didn’t have sex with the entire royal fleet. I engaged in appropriate relations with someone whom I care about.”

  “The Royal Auditor?” Her grandmother’s voice was coated with disbelief.

  Christian’s surprise was born out of worry about political blowback. Her gran’s shock was more about dating “the staff”—even if he had a title of his own.

  Was it any wonder she’d kept this a relationship secret from her family?

  “Yes. Lord Theo, the Royal Auditor,” she snipped. “Which is admittedly a bit sticky, but he’s almost finished with his report. We should’ve been able to keep our relationship a secret until he turned it over to the prime minister.”

  “Indeed, you should have.” An index finger weighed down by a Tahitian black pearl waggled at her. “But you did not. You have tainted the Villani name. You have embarrassed the Crown at exactly the moment when the entire European Union is watching us to judge if we are worthy to join them. You are a disappointment, Genevieve.”

  No kidding.

  For she was so disappointed in herself.

  For letting her guard down.

  For being so reckless and carefree.

  What a ridiculous pipe dream—that she could set aside her title and be merely a woman for two days. Genevieve had been indoctrinated since birth that her title was a part of her, every bit as much as her ears and her toes. She could never stop being a princess.

  Genevieve didn’t blame Theo. He hadn’t forced her to do anything. No, the blame for this fiasco was solely hers. She’d have to live with the repercussions. And hope that it was merely a few weeks of humiliation and not the tipping point that led to the downfall of the monarchy.

  Because there was a very real possibility—as had been presented to her with the clarity of a neon sign in dark room—that her bad behavior, the scandal of it, could end up affecting the vote to join the European Union. Or cause the EU to retract their potential offer for Moncriano to join.

  If that happened? It would be the end of the House of Villani. Seven hundred years of rule toppled by a thoughtless woman and a blow job.

  “I’ll tell Theo that he needs to come over and be a part of the meetings. I’m sure he’ll want to do whatever he can to help mitigate the fallout.”

  The Grand Duchess finally put down her index finger. “That’s good to hear. I worried it would be messy.”

  “What would be?”

  “Your breakup.”

  “I’m not breaking up with him.” At least, sh
e didn’t think so. Unless…Genny hadn’t had a spare second to think about all this would affect Theo. His position, his reputation. Would he be mad at her for dragging him into this scandal?

  Would he want to break up with her?

  Just as hard to imagine, should she break up with him? Was this whole incident proof that emotions were too messy? That she should choose a perfectly pleasant prince who would be kind and courteous and never, ever tempt her to forget that her duty, first and foremost, was to the Crown? To being an appropriate representative of the Crown?

  Kelsey gasped. “You can’t tell her not to follow her heart.”

  “Indeed I can,” Gran snapped. “A heart can’t hold a kingdom together. Diplomacy, strategy—all of that comes from the brain.”

  “And it’s all tempered with a good heart. You can’t possibly expect Genevieve to turn her back on happiness, on love.”

  “I expect her to do her duty as a member of this family. This ruling family. You have been given allowances due to your…different upbringing. Genevieve, however, was raised knowing what was expected of her and her ultimate relationships.”

  “Enough.” Christian didn’t yell this time. But he did sound exhausted by the whole thing. “Genevieve makes her own decisions. Good or bad or abominably stupid, they are hers and hers alone.”

  Technically, Genevieve believed that Christian had shut down her grandmother. Had extended to her the freedom to do as she liked.

  Except…it felt a lot like he’d tossed her onto an ice floe and pushed her out to drift through the sea all by herself.

  And now she truly didn’t know what to do.

  Chapter Twenty

  There were a lot of things Theo never wanted to do. For one? Go sky-diving—why tempt fate? For another? Work on a garbage truck, because…well, it was obvious.

  But the number one thing that Theo didn’t want to do tonight? Attend a fancy party with all the movers and shakers in the kingdom in attendance.

  Where they’d all be staring at him and talking about him and casting him as the reprobate who’d shamed their beloved, perfect princess in front of the whole world.