Rags to Royals (Royals Gone Rogue #3)

1. Cian

Chapter 1

Cian

“ E veryone!” King Diarmuid’s voice is commanding despite his eighty-two years and the precarious state of his heart after three heart attacks. “This is such a happy day!”

I grin. It really is. My brother, Torin, just got married to the love of his life. He and Abigail are clearly meant to be and will be an amazing King and Queen to our home country. Torin will officially take the throne from our grandfather within the year.

Everyone is happy. Everything is settled. And the wine they’re serving with this late dinner for the family and close friends is the best I’ve had in years.

I smile and look around the table. Everyone is here except our eldest brother, Declan, but no one expected him today. But my sister, niece, parents, grandparents, and all of our closest friends are here, and the general mood is one of cheerful contentment.

“And I want to add to the merriment!” our grandfather goes on. “Since everyone is together, this is the perfect time to tell you all what’s next before you all jet off back to the US.”

Many of those gathered in the room live in the US despite our ties to Cara. My brother who just became king, my sister, and I all abdicated twelve years ago and headed to the states. Torin rescinded his abdication and came home two years ago, but Fiona and I still live in Louisiana. Fiona is married now, and she’s not going anywhere.

And I’m…not sure.

But that’s been the case for most of my life.

As the youngest of the O’Grady royals, the spare to the spare to the spare, I have no responsibilities, there are no expectations of me, and I’m able to do whatever the hell I want.

So, I have.

It’s pretty great.

“Diarmuid, I don’t—” Linnea Olsen starts.

She’s standing right next to Diarmuid and he now takes her hand, cradling it against his chest.

She’s the eldest granddaughter of Diarmuid’s late best friend Alfred. She’s been a close advisor to my grandfather for years and was, in fact, arranged to marry Torin and become Cara’s next queen, until he fell in love with Abigail.

“As you all know, I’ve always expected this day to include this lovely woman,” Diarmuid says.

Everyone smiles and nods. It’s no secret that Linnea and Torin are both fine with their ‘engagement’ being broken and that Linnea is thrilled that Torin and Abi are now married.

“We absolutely adore Abigail.” My grandfather gives Abi a huge smile.

I look at my new sister-in-law. The shy, introverted scientist, who balked at the idea of a life in the public eye as a royal, is blushing intensely even from this little bit of attention. She looks both embarrassed and confused.

“But,” the king goes on, “what many of you don’t know is that when Alfred and I entered into our agreement?—”

I snort. A few others do as well. The ‘agreement’ he’s referring to is the drunken poker game where he ran out of money—somehow as king?—and had to offer up something else of value to continue to play. He offered up a grandson, Alfred accepted, and…my grandfather lost. From that night on, one of Diarmuid’s grandsons was promised in marriage to one of Alfred’s granddaughters.

We all thought the whole story was a joke.

Until Torin returned to Cara, rescinded his abdication, and agreed to take his place as the next leader of the country…and got a fiancée as part of the benefits package.

My grandfather gives us all a frown, and everyone quiets again. “As I was saying,” he continues. “Alfred and I wanted our families to be united. Alfred had only one granddaughter at the time.” He smiles down at Linnea. “I had three grandsons. Contrary to popular belief, our agreement had nothing to do with the throne.”

I frown and lean forward.

He’s correct in saying that we all believed that Alfred made the agreement with the understanding that his granddaughter would be the future queen. Why else would he have done it?

But my grandfather continues, “It was simply the assumption that it would be a union of our first grandchildren. Then Declan left, and the agreement moved to my second grandson. But now that my second grandson is married to another, the arrangement will move to my third grandson.”

I repeat his words silently.

The agreement was initially to marry Declan and Linnea. They are the first grandchildren in each family. Okay, if someone was going to take the arrangement seriously—which clearly Diarmuid and Alfred did, even if the rest of us did not—that makes sense.

But Declan left. My oldest brother abdicated and left for the US fifteen years ago. He hasn’t returned to our tiny, remote island country in all that time. Not once. He’s built several wildly successful businesses in the US and is now one of the richest men on the continent. Probably in the world. He hasn’t once looked back at the throne. He barely keeps in touch with the family.

There was no question Declan was not going to be Cara’s king. So when Torin returned to Cara, Linnea became his future queen.

But now that he’s married, the arrangement will move to Diarmuid’s third grandson?

Wait a fucking minute.

I’m not the third grandchild, but…

“Hey, I’m your third grandson,” I say out loud.

My grandfather meets my gaze and nods. “Yes. You and Linnea will marry. We’ll announce the engagement in three months.”

Three months? What ?

Linnea Olsen is amazing. She’s intelligent, classy, kind, gorgeous. But… I’m going to marry her? Just because our grandfathers got drunk while playing poker twenty-some years ago?

“ I’m going to marry Linnea?” I repeat. “Just like that? Are you kidding?” I quickly meet Linnea’s gaze. “No offense.”

I like her just fine. I can think of worse things I suppose, but I don’t think Linnea and I have had a conversation one-on-one, just the two of us, in probably close to ten years. Yes, we knew each other growing up but she was a brat . She took the I’m-going-to-be-queen-someday thing seriously and acted like she was in charge of everything, even at a very young age.

Diarmuid nods his head. “Yes. The O’Gradys and Olsens will be united.”

“That’s cra—” I start.

“No.”

Everyone looks at Linnea as one.

I feel relief rush through me.

Okay, Linnea is going to take care of this. Awesome. Diarmuid listens to her. This is good.

I smile and settle back into my chair.

“No,” she repeats as she pulls her hand away from Diarmuid’s.

My grandfather looks completely confused. “Linnea?”

She takes a deep breath and looks up at him. “I adore you,” she says, sincerely. “You are so important to me.” She turns to look at all of us in the room. “All of you are. The O’Grady family is so important to me. I’m so happy to be a part of it. And I hope I always can be, in some way, but…” She takes another deep breath. Then she lifts her chin, and her voice gets louder. “You all make me crazy . You have been messing with my life for…well, my whole life. Everything about everything has been about you all. What you want. Or don’t want. One minute I’m engaged. Then I’m not. Then I am again, but to someone else. Now I am again to another one of you? No. Just no .”

Thata girl, I think. But I keep quiet. My grandfather looks stunned.

But thank God, Linnea is handling this. I take zero offense that she doesn’t want to marry me.

She looks at Diarmuid again. “I know what you and my grandfather wanted. I understand. And I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me until now. I’ve made Cara better. I’ve helped you. I’ve helped Torin. I’ve helped Abigail. And it’s been my pleasure. It always will be. But…no. I’m not going to marry Cian. I’m not going to be an O’Grady. I’m in love with someone else and I’m going to marry him .”

Oh, fuck yes. Even better. She’s in love with someone else. No way will Diarmuid insist she marry me.

I let out a long breath and reach for my wine, taking a long gulp.

“I’m finally going to do what I want,” Linnea says. “And…I want Jonah. I love him and want to marry him .”

Oh . She’s in love with my brother’s bodyguard. That’s nice. A little scandalous even.

I lean forward to look down the table at Jonah. I’ve known Jonah Greene for twelve years. He was hired as Torin’s bodyguard at the same time Henry Dean was hired as mine. The men joined us within months of our abdications and move to the US. Colin Daly was assigned to my sister, Fiona, and her daughter, Saoirse, as well.

They all came on board to keep track of us and, I guess, keep us alive and out of trouble while we were “having our tantrum” as our grandfather initially referred to our abdications.

Henry, Jonah, and Colin have been with us for over a decade now, becoming more like family than bodyguards or employees. Especially since we weren’t the one paying them or giving them any kind of direction.

Henry is like a brother to me, and I can’t imagine what life would be like without him.

But Jonah fell for Torin’s supposed-to-be fiancée, huh? That’s juicy.

I glance at Henry.

He doesn’t look shocked by any of this.

Which means he knew about Jonah and Linnea.

I roll my eyes. Of course he did. He always knows this shit way before I do. I’m certain he knows a bunch of stuff I have no clue about.

I’m cool with that. The less I know, the less I have to be worried about or responsible for.

He meets my gaze and lifts a brow.

That’s his way of asking how I am.

I lift a shoulder. I just got engaged and dumped in the space of about three minutes, but I’m good.

In a very unusual display of emotion, Jonah practically jumps to his feet. “Yes. Fuck yes.” He’s around the table and stalking toward Linnea a second later.

I tip my head toward Jonah, Linnea, and Diarmuid where the king is clearly trying to wrap his head around what’s going on and Linnea is confessing her love and Jonah has her face in his hands, professing his love as well, then kissing her.

Henry just nods.

Yep, he knew about it.

Can’t believe he didn’t tell me.

I glance around. Who else is sleeping with someone in this room that I don’t know about?

“Our families will always be united in heart and spirit, and in the good works we do together,” Linnea is saying to the king, pulling my attention back to their little drama.

“Oh,” he says, patting her cheek. “Of course. But we can still be united by marriage, and ,” he says, looking around at the group again, “by blood.”

I do not like the sound of that . I frown. “What the hell does that mean?” I ask.

“A child, of course,” Diarmuid says.

Of course? What am I missing? Are we talking heirs here? I mean I’m sure Torin and Abigail have been practicing. They’ve only been together for a few months and married for a few hours. Though my grandfather is not known for his patience.

“Fiona has a child,” I say, pointing at my niece.

Saoirse grins at me.

Diarmuid’s smile for his great-granddaughter is one none of the rest of us ever see. It’s full of such genuine love and pride, it makes my eyes widen.

“Yes, she’s an O’Grady. Potentially an heir to the throne. But not an Olsen,” Diarmuid says.

So, he’s not concerned about heirs to the throne?

“The agreement doesn’t say anything about an O’Grady-Olsen child,” my sister points out.

“We assumed that would naturally come of the marriage,” Diarmuid says. “And more than one child would be lovely. But yes, at least one.”

“So…” Henry finally speaks up. “That’s all moot now, though. I don’t think Jonah’s going to let Linnea have Cian’s baby.”

“Oh my god, no!” Linnea exclaims.

“Damn right,” Jonah growls.

“Don’t be weird,” I tell him.

Henry just shrugs.

“Of course not,” Diarmuid says over the noise. “Obviously Astrid and Cian will marry and produce the heir.”

I freeze with my glass of wine halfway to my mouth.

He’s not worried about the throne.

He wants an heir to the family legacies. Both families.

Ours and…

Oh, shit.

All laughter immediately ceases and five seconds pass before Astrid and I speak at the same time.

“ What ?”

I look at Linnea’s younger sister. She’s staring at me.

Then we both look back to Diarmuid.

Suddenly everyone is on their feet, talking at once. Except for my mother and grandmother. And Astrid’s mother, father, and grandmother.

Clearly, they already knew about this.

And are pleased by the idea.

I look at Henry.

Now he actually seems stunned.

Ha. Something he didn’t know. And he didn’t keep this from me. At least that’s comforting.

Then I look back at the woman my grandfather wants me to marry.

She looks like she wants to throw up.

I sigh.

Just another crazy fucking day as an O’Grady royal.