Royally Rebellious: An arranged royal romance (Resplendent Royals Book 1)

Chapter 8

Ididn’t expect Alexandra to proposition me. I thought the call was coming from my parents. No, it was inside the house! Marry her? Was she insane? I left the meeting reeling, pacing until I decided to take a walk. Martin followed but I walked to walk.

“Martin, what do you know about the girl’s mental state?” I asked. “She just propositioned me in a ridiculous marriage plot!”

“Mental state, sir?”

“Alexandra. Crazy Crown Prince Christophe was her father. They locked him up—that’s the story. She’s told me that everything is a mess here. As in she is held captive by her grandmother—a little old lady! Come on!”

“I don’t know much, sir. These people keep everything buttoned up. They are known for their eccentricities. I know little about Her Majesty, but her father was… disturbed.”

“Yes. I cannot imagine a sane girl would propose something out of a regency costume drama.”

“I have heard things. Yes, I am sure he had… issues… but it was my understanding that the girls have been very sheltered. To this point, they are protected from prying eyes. Clearly. I haven’t heard anything about the princesses. And until she passed me this morning, I did not see Her Majesty. We’ve been here a day. It is odd. I agree it is strange, sir.”

“I’m not angry with her. What good does it do to be mad at her? She’s just a girl. But my parents? They brought me to this creepy fucking place and put me up to this. Am I simply expendable? I thought Mamma would at least care about me. This girl has a poor grip on reality, don’t you think?”

“I know nothing, sir,” Martin said. “I apologise.”

“Maybe she is just immature? Is this her damsel fantasy?”

Martin shrugged.

“I don’t like damsels. I like my women feisty and loud. She’s basically a walking doormat.”

“Sir, if she was a doormat, would she have engineered a marriage plot?”

“Maybe she is less doormat and more immature child?”

Martin looked off as a man approached with an envelope.

“Your Royal Highness.” The footman bowed. “An invitation.”

I popped the letter open. This was all high and mighty. Did they do this to impress everyone here?

I read the letter. It was an invite to dine with the Queen and Dowager Queen. I wanted to run but didn’t have a choice. That would be rude. If it got back to Pappa, I’d be toast. I nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I will attend.”

The footman bowed again.

As he left, Martin looked at me for a sign.

“Dinner. I’ve been invited. Let’s… take a walk in the garden. I need some air.”

We walked through a grove of trees when we heard voices. A girl was shrieking, sounding like she was fighting off a slasher. I was sure I was about to avenge someone. I rushed towards the sound, Martin following. There, I found a stream flowing through the gardens. One girl stood in the middle of the stream glaring at another who laughed on its banks. No murderer in sight.

My heart’s racing beat slowed. Martin stood down and stepped back, fading into the grove of trees upon seeing the girls.

The one in the stream asked in French, “Who are you?”

“Me?” I pointed at myself like an idiot. “I’m… Rick.”

“Who? How did you get here?”

“Ingrid, calm down,” the girl on the shore said.

“I’m visiting from Lundhavn. A guest of your sister’s… I’m assuming?” I asked.

“Which sister?” They said in unison.

The girl in the stream, hands on her hips, said, “Yes, there are four of us. You should specify.”

“Alexandra. The Queen.”

The other asked, “And how do you know her then?”

“I don’t… not well anyway,” I answered. I wondered if everyone in this place was mad.

I heard a third voice calling out before another girl appeared. This one looked like Alexandra in the way the other two didn’t.

“Who the fuck are you?”

This third one had a mouth on her. I admired that.

“Uh, this is Rick. He’s not Alexandra’s friend. He’s not sure what he is,” the one I knew as Ingrid said.

“Oh, I know about him,” the girl said. “I’m Astrid. Call me Asti. And that’s Ingrid, the baby. And the typical middle child, Odette, right here.”

“Nice to meet you all,” I said.

“You shouldn’t be out here. The bitch will get after you. She’ll assume you’re up to something,” Astrid said.

“What? Who?”

“Our grandmother. She’s always got eyes and ears out. She’ll know. Does Alex know you’re out here?”

“Can a guest not walk in the gardens?” I asked, confused. “And who is Alex?”

“Told you he’s not her friend!” Ingrid shrieked in French, slapping water in Odette’s face.

They were delightfully childlike. Silly. It had been ages since I was so playful and carefree. And, yet they were very aware of the evil Queen supposedly hiding around the corner. It was as if I wandered into a Grimm’s fairytale. Who the hell were these girls?

“Back off, Ingy!” Astrid said. “Chill, okay? I’ve got this. You don’t need to be so openly hostile. I’m that enough for all of us.”

I snickered. “At least you’re honest.”

“Walk with me.” Astrid gestured for me to follow.

“Oh… okay, yeah,” I trotted to keep up.

For someone short, she had impressively long strides.

“Just… I don’t want to involve the girls,” Astrid said. “They are big and tough, but they’re children, okay? I am my sister’s primary confidante and I know everything, even if she tells you otherwise. The two of them… they don’t know much. We’d prefer it stay that way. Makes it easier on them mentally.”

“What?”

“Alexandra and I shoulder the burden for them. Has she told you what is happening?”

“Are you all crazy? All of you sound?—”

“I’m not crazy! This is our life—or has been. She controls everything that we do. The little ones haven’t been in normal school since they learned to read. They have a tutor. Alex and I break them out in the afternoon like this. Meanwhile, Alex says you think she’s nuts, and she’s sequestered herself in her bloody room now.”

“Oh. Well…” I wasn’t sure what to say. I did think she was mad, but he also wondered how they could all have lost reality this much.

“She’s not mad. Celeste is—the mean bitch that runs this place.”

I could tell that Astrid was the spicier of the two. She was feisty. Alexandra was the well-behaved oldest daughter, another reason we’d not get on. The last thing I needed was a well-behaved woman. I judged Alexandra too harshly. I began to believe what the girls said.

“She said the regency has kept her locked up,” I said.

As I spoke, a man approached.

“Well, whatever you do,” Astrid said, “you must check out the zoo. It’s so brilliant.”

“What?” I asked.

Then, I realised she was covering for us.

“Sir, the Queen would like to see you inside,” he said.

“The Queen or the Dowager Queen?” Astrid clarified.

“The Dowager Queen.”

“Well, let’s not confuse those two, Lord William.”

I assumed this was one of the Dowager Queen’s henchmen if the girls’ story was to be believed. I admitted that the timing was suspect if they were delusional.

“Sure,” I said.

I followed the man into the house, arriving in a large drawing room filled with too many cats. I loathed cats. They were never to be trusted. In my opinion, women who had more than two cats were immediately suspect. The dear Dowager Queen was one of those women. She sat in a high back chair with a cat on her lap purring, as if a supervillain.

“Prince Rikard, I wanted to check in. Ignore me. Octavia will never leave my lap and I loathe to disturb her.”

“No, wouldn’t want to do that, would you?” I chuckled nervously, dodging cats.

“How was the tour?”

“Her Majesty showed me the sights. We spoke. I enjoyed it.”

“What were your thoughts of her? I warn that she might not look like much at present, but if she is like her mother, she can be buffed into quite a diamond with a bit of work.”

It was an unkind statement—below the belt. She may not have been my type, but Alexandra was far from hideous. “She’s a perfectly nice young woman. She was very kind. I ran into the other princesses in the garden. You have four interesting granddaughters.”

“Interesting is putting it kindly, Rikard.”

“They are. Cannot be easy growing up without your parents in a word like this.”

“That is why I shelter them so much. To hear our Alexandra or—God forbid—Astrid tell it, you’d think I kept them under lock and key and tortured them! The truth is that young women are wilful if not properly controlled. And I am looking out for their best interest, Rikard. That is it. I hope they haven’t told you otherwise?”

“They have said you are very much looking after their health and well-being, Your Majesty,” I smiled. “Yes. They say you’re strict, but I can understand why.”

It was uncomfortable. At this point, I was lying. If the girls weren’t crazy, I was saving them from her admonishment. If they were lying, then what was another lie? Why would she bring it up? Alexandra and Astrid were both grown. Why did she need to keep them under lock and key? Maybe Alexandra was right, Celeste was the madwoman.

Either way, I was called to defend these girls. An hour ago, I thought they were nuts. Now, I wanted to help—at least as much as I could without stepping too much into the fray.

“Good. So you met before?”

“We met at the ball in Belgium for the Duke.”

“Oh yes, she was all aglow I am sure. She can clean up nicely. I dressed her myself.”

Of course you did!

“She tried to help me speak to someone in French. I didn’t… I didn’t think much of it.”

Alexandra couldn’t win. She was dressed like a pensioner anywhere she went. It dawned on me that in another set of clothes, I might feel differently about her. I doubted it, but a wardrobe refresh wouldn’t hurt.

“I am glad the two of you spoke and took a walk. Dinner will be divine. Please let me know if I can help with anything else.”

“Sure.” I nodded at the old woman.

I stood because she wouldn’t and left.

This whole place was odd if not slightly cursed. Perhaps all the rumours about it were true? Maybe Neandia was a backward hell hole? At best, the Dowager Queen was strange and the place too conservative. At worst, the woman was a tyrant. Alexandra and her sisters were in danger.