Chapter 12
You Don’t Belong Here
“This is ridiculous,” the queen snaps, startling me. I’m already holding on by a gossamer thread after all Rhys has put me through today. “You need to be serious, Rhys.”
“I believe I’ve made it clear that in the offices and in royal circles I am now the king,” he says quietly but with a distinct challenge.
“And are you going to fuck me too?” she purrs. “Because we both know I’ll make a better queen that this stupid—”
“Tread lightly,” he warns.
“—child,” she spits out.
I feel like I shouldn’t even be here. If anyone doesn’t belong in this room, it’s me but I’m doing as he ordered me to and sitting here, quietly and with my head held high, waiting to find out what the rest of my life is going to look like while feeling his cum slip from my core.
“I believe my future queen asked a question,” Rhys says, ignoring his stepmother. “And I’ve yet to hear an answer.”
“You know it’ll never get that far,” Saoirse says petulantly, rolling her eyes. “She’s just going to run away again when things get tough. You need to focus on your country and what is best for it.”
I sit there stunned as she throws me right under the bus.
Not only is she the one who fed me the information that has me feeling the way I do, but she also did it in a way that was intentional.
She sent me on the run while Rhys was away on business and then my car blew up, killing my driver and leaving Leo and I definitely worse for the wear.
I don’t know about him, but I know I’ll never forgive myself for the part I played in a man’s death. Never.
“I am,” he replies dangerously. “And what’s best for my country is a kind and caring queen not a narcissistic succubus.”
Saoirse gasps.
I feel my eyes go wide. I’ve tried to keep my composure, really, I have, but this seems to have surprised us all. Even Craig covers his mouth with his hand and pretends a cough to cover his laughter over her embarrassment. Poor Leo just stares at his feet.
“Besides, I don’t remember inviting you to this meeting.”
“Surely, you agree that I need to know what’s going on in my country and in my home,” she pouts.
“And surely you realize that this might be your native country, but you are no longer married to the monarch. As for your home, it’s now mine and I thank you for reminding me that your future accommodations need to be seen to. I’ll make sure a royal property is opened for you at once.”
“Do not forget that there are still people here who are loyal to me and not you…” she seethes.
I wish he wouldn’t toy with Saoirse so much. She’s dangerous and we should tread lightly. That’s clearly not Rhys’s style and it makes me want to cry, to hide, to kiss him?—I don’t know.
“And do no’ forget to close the door behind you on your way out,” Rhys says as if he’s completely unaffected by her voiced threats.
I know all too well that her threats are not to be dismissed so easily but still I hold my tongue. Because I’m also tired of being punished. The orgasms are nice, but I’d prefer them without the extra complications.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says before turning on her heels and click-clacking her way to the door.
She stops there and looks back at me from over her shoulder, a cat-that-got-her-cream smile on her pink painted lips.
I hold my breath for whatever she’s about to drop in my lap, knowing that I’ll hate whatever she has to say.
“Don’t get too comfortable. We both know that you don’t belong here.
And besides, Rhys will be back to fucking the maids or Lady Thomley again before long.
” And with that, she pulls the door closed behind her with an uncharacteristically quiet snick.
After a moment, Rhys turns to the room as if he doesn’t have a care in the world and says, “So I was thinking of a garden party to kick things off.”
“That’s a lovely idea,” Craig says. “And it gives us an opportunity to introduce Stella to the aristocracy.”
“Aye, I was thinking the same. We need them in her favor,” Rhys agrees before turning to Leo. “What security concerns should we have?”
“Besides the dowager queen?” he asks.
“Aye.”
“Her father is in the wind,” he says.
“Fuck.”
“Aye,” Leo agrees. “He’s dangerous to be sure but to snub him openly would be more dangerous.”
“And social suicide,” Craig adds. “We need him close enough to watch but not close enough for him to strike. Timing-wise, the castle gardens are almost done for the season. Perfect for a pre-wedding garden party if you ask me.”
“That would be easy to secure as well,” Leo adds. “Even if we open viewing to the village.”
“Aye,” Rhys agrees. “The villagers will love a garden party and so will all of the aristocracy who love to be invited to that kind of shite.”
I slowly raise my hand up like I’m back in a classroom and Rhys turns and smiles at me. “You don’t have to ask to speak, hen. This is your meeting too.”
“Umm… permission to speak freely?”
“Am I going to like it?” he asks me.
“If keeping with consistency… probably not,” I answer before I can think better of it and his smile widens.
“That’s all right,” he croons. “I think I’ll like the outcome either way.”
I narrow my eyes but still hold my tongue. “Can I ask?”
“Aye.”
“How come you can speak to me like we’re in private, but I can’t speak to you the same?” I ask and then hold my breath hoping that the answer doesn’t come with more humiliation.
“Because I am king, hen,” he replies honestly. “You need to learn to respect me always, even if you’re not feeling so at the moment. It’s for your safety.”
“How so?”
“Because it’s treason to speak to me so and in certain circles, I can’t protect you if you do so publicly,” he answers honestly and I kind of wish he’d said told me that earlier.
“I don’t think I want to be in those circles,” I say quietly.
“Aye, I understand that and honestly, I wish we didn’t have to be in them but it’s the nature of our world.”
“Your world,” I correct.
“Nay,” he says gently. “You forget that you were born a princess, you just weren’t raised as such, and that was also for your protection.”
I let out a sigh and keep my mouth closed because honestly, he’s not wrong and it does me no good to deny the truth, even if I want to.
“I see you’re learning,” he smirks.
“I think I would have appreciated the lesson more if you’d just told me,” I say as sassily as I’m willing to be in front of his secretary and my protection officer.
“Perhaps,” he says. “But I do no’ think you were in a mind to listen. And besides, I find that I thoroughly enjoy teaching you.”
“I just bet you do,” I mutter to myself, but he still hears me.
“Aye.”
I take a deep breath in and roll my shoulders back to give myself a little confidence as I go forward. “So, before our current debate started…”
“Aye.”
“I was going to repeat my earlier question… what all goes into a garden party and a royal wedding?”
Chuckles fill the room.
“You’re learning,” Rhys says before looking at Craig.
“To answer your original question… a lot,” Craig says. “But nothing more than we can handle. We have to meet with the archbishop, and secure Saint Peter’s Abbey. Obviously, the reception will be here at the castle, in one of the ballrooms.”
“Obviously,” I whisper earning a patient smile.
“We’ll need to arrange a consultation and fitting with a designer for you,” he says. “Is there a designer you prefer?”
“For fashion?” I ask, feeling like an idiot.
“Aye.”
“Umm… that would be a no. Maybe we ask Maeve?”
“I think she’d like that,” Rhys says.
“Once your dresses are secured, we can select tiaras—” Craig continues until Rhys interrupts him.
“I want her in the queen’s suite, not the lower ranking royal tiaras,” he says. “Definitely something that accommodates my mother’s emeralds like the Tsarina crown. She’s to be queen.”
“Yes, your majesty. Her uncle may want her in a family tiara,” he says.
“Unless he’s willing to put her in something more substantial, I don’t care,” Rhys says.
“Yes, your majesty,” Craig replies, making a note in his leather folio before moving on. “We have to arrange flowers for the abbey and the reception. Talk to the chefs about a reception dinner. Pick a cake. Normal wedding things.”
“Do you have any preferences on wedding colors or flowers, your grace?” he asks me.
“I have no idea… but, maybe my mother had a tiara, if I need one—”
“You do,” Rhys interrupts and I barely keep from rolling my eyes.
“Maybe I’d like to have something of hers… even if it’s only for a day,” I say hesitantly.
“Then we’ll make it so,” Rhys says.
“And maybe we could find out what kind of bouquet she carried?” I ask. “I think I’d like to have a bit of her with me.”
“Then you shall have her,” Rhys says softly.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll give you anything if you let me,” he says.
“Umm… maybe?”
He sighs and then says, “Aye, hen. I’ll wait for you but no’ too long.”
“So, what else do we need?” I ask.
“Wedding rings from the royal gold reserves,” Craig says, the feeling of overwhelm crashes over me again. “You’ll have to pick what China service you want your reception dinner served on.”
I look to Rhys before asking, “Did your mother have one?”
“Aye,” he says.
“Would you like to use that one?” I ask.
“You haven’t even seen it,” he says with a smile. “What if you do no’ like it?”
“If it means something to you then it doesn’t matter what it looks like. Does it mean something to you?”
“Aye, hen, it does.”
“Then we’ll use that,” I reply. “What else, Craig?”
“I’ll get with chef to see what he suggests for the supper. Anything you don’t like?” he asks me already knowing what Rhys would choose.
“Uh… gross stuff?”
“So, no kidney pie?” Rhys asks.
“Umm, no.”
“I’ll get with Maeve after I leave here and see if she’ll set up a dress consultation,” Craig says.
“Let her know we’re on a time constraint,” Rhys adds.
“What’s our timeline?” Craig asks calmly.
“By the end of the month.”
“I’ll let her know,” he says, making more notes in his folio. “We’ll have to have the garden party in a week.”
“Aye, I’ll clear my schedule.”
“I’ll send the invitations,” Craig says.
“I’ll get with your protection team and establish what we need,” Leo says. “I’d like snipers on the roof for all events.”
“Surely not,” I gasp.
“I agree,” Rhys says. “With the global players we’ll need to be overly cautious. I won’t risk her safety again.
“Agreed.”
“So, what about the fancy garden party?” I ask, changing the subject away from snipers and anyone who might want to kill me. “What do we need for that?”
“Formal day dress—suits with tails and top hats for the men, pretty dresses and fancy hats for the ladies—think fancy tea party in a garden.”
“Okay,” I reply. “Maeve will help me, right?”
“Of course,” Craig says.
“Good. I wouldn’t want to make a big mistake.”
“We won’t let you,” Craig replies. “Now, once we select your tiara or get a loan secured from your family, we’ll choose jewelry if it doesn’t match the emerald suite.”
“I’ll handle that,” Rhys says cryptically.
“Noted,” Craig replies, closing his leather folio. “I think that’s all for now. I best get to work.”
“Aye,” Rhys agrees.
“I as well,” Leo says. “Please let me know if your plans for the day change.”
“I will,” I agree and then he turns for the door, leaving me alone with my very soon-to-be husband. “What are we going to do now?”
“I was thinking I’d show you my mother’s China pattern,” he says.
“That sounds nice.”
“And then I’d like to show you decidedly more interesting things.”
I roll my eyes and then freeze.
“You’re safe here, hen,” he says. “But anytime you want me to fuck you on my desk I’m happy to oblige.”
“I just bet you are.”