Chapter 6
Portrait of a Queen
Footsteps sound behind me and I push myself to move faster. My arms pumping and my legs burn as I try to get away, get to safety. They’re getting closer.
I have to get out of here; I have to keep going.
It’s so dark that I can’t see where I’m going. The heel snaps off of my stupid expensive shoe and my ankle rolls. I stumble into the bushes. My stockings rip and a searing pain flashes through my knees. I bite my lip to hold in a sob and push myself back up.
I kick off my shoes and keep going, blood dripping from my knees. I step off the garden path and hope that whomever, whatever is chasing me doesn’t follow.
It feels like I’ve gotten away. I don’t hear the footsteps anymore and my heart begins to calm enough so it’s not ringing in my ears. I slow my pace and look for an exit.
Arms band tightly around me and a hand covers my mouth before I can scream.
I was never safe.
There’s a soft knock on the main door of the suite that jerks me from a fitful sleep.
I take a quick look at the clock and see that it’s just after seven in the morning.
I stretch my body out across the bed and feel the cool sheets on the other side.
I don’t know how long Rhys has been gone, but it’s long enough.
The knock sounds again followed by, “Are you awake, my lady?” Maeve calls out.
I throw back the covers and stand up only to panic because I forgot that Rhys left me naked last night. I grab a robe from the closet and wrap it around myself while rushing to the door. I unlock it and pull it open.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell her. “I think I overslept.”
“Nay, nay,” she hushes me. “You’re just fine, your highness. Now let’s get some breakfast in you and we’ll get you squared away for your royal visit this morning.”
She pushes the dining cart over to the small table and sets it with an omelet, fruit, and toast along with a coffee service. I sit down as my stomach rumbles at the sight of the eggs and bacon.
“You remember you’re headed to the National Portrait gallery today?” she asks me.
“To unveil the painting of me,” I reply between bites.
“Yes, and I have a surprise for you.”
“I don’t know if I can handle any more surprises, Maeve. My life is pretty exciting these days,” I tell her.
She just cackles in her delicate way at my side-eyed glare, making me laugh too.
“Eat and then shower,” she says, mothering me in a way that only she can. “I’ll pull some outfit options for you.”
“You’re a godsend, Maeve.”
“I know,” she winks at me.
I finish my breakfast, downing the last of my coffee.
I’m sure if my real uncle saw me like this, he’d lose his mind.
The men who raised me, though, they’d smile at me the way they used to, the way that told me I was important to them, that I was special and funny and magic and sunshine, like every child should feel.
As I step into the shower, I wonder if I’ll be able to protect any child I might have.
I won’t raise babies to think that they’re not wonderful.
I won’t let them be royal brats either, but I won’t let them feel the insecurities that come with being raised in this castle, in this life.
I wonder if I’ll be able to let them be children before Rhys throws them into the machine that will churn out future kings and queens.
After I’ve scrubbed my body, I shut off the water and grab my towel. I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m not pregnant, and who knows if I will be any time soon. Bodies are wild. Hopefully, mine takes a breath before anything happens. I wasn’t kidding when I told Maeve that there was a lot on my plate.
I dry off and busy myself in the bathroom with brushing my teeth, skincare, and drying my hair so that it falls in a dark, glossy bouncy blowout. I don’t do my makeup yet because I don’t know what Maeve will have me wearing.
With nothing left to do that will keep me out of my head and stop me from worrying about problems I shouldn’t be thinking about yet, I pull my robe back on and head into the bedroom to see what I’ll be wearing.
“Oh, I love your hair like this,” Maeve says, smiling at me.
“Thanks,” I whisper self-consciously.
“None of that now,” she says. “We have plenty to do and you are too beautiful and much too smart to be shy like that.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve pulled a few options for you,” she says, showing me the outfits she has hanging on the brass rack she styles me from. “Nothing too fussy today. We have a lovely pink shirt dress, a brown silk blouse and a brown tweed skirt, or this blue dress with a bow at the waist.”
“We’re really feeling bows this month,” I mutter and she smiles.
“I guess we are,” she laughs. “You’re young and vibrant, they show youth and femininity. Let’s let them think you’re soft and sweet like a kitten and then you can show them your claws after the coronation.”
“Ease them into it?” I ask.
“Exactly.”
“Well then,” I take a deep breath. “Which one is your favorite for today?”
“I like the brown, but I think it’s too serious for a trip to an art museum,” she begins. “The pink is a little too casual for the unveiling of your first royal portrait. So, the blue.”
“The blue it is,” I reply. “I’ll be right back.”
I quickly make my way back into the bathroom to dust my face in soft beiges and pinks before heading into the dressing room to pull on my bra, panties, and stockings.
Maeve will have shoes pulled to go with the dress, so I head back out and slide into the dress when she hands it to me.
It has long bloused sleeves that taper into cuffed wrists, which she helps me button after she zips up the back.
The high neckline and hem that falls just below my knees keep the dress modest, but the large matching bow on the front of the belt pulls the heavier material into my waist, hinting at my curves.
“I considered either the nude or black heels, but then I thought navy suede would pop against the light blue of the wool dress,” she says, and I love the idea instantly.
“I love it.”
“I thought you would,” she says, handing me the heels which I slip onto my feet.
I hook the gold heart earrings that Rhys insists I wear even though we both know he has other means of tracking me in case of an emergency. Still, I prefer not to worry my new husband without cause. “Last, a navy coat to keep you warm.”
“You’re the best,” I tell Maeve, popping a quick kiss on her cheek and surprising her. “What time is Leo coming for me?”
“He’ll be here after I give you your surprise,” she says. “It should be here now… or I should say… she.”
“What?” I ask as the main door swings open.
Dahlia shouts, “Surprise!”
“What’s all this about?” I ask.
“Rhys thought you could use a friendly face with you on your first engagement after the wedding,” Maeve says.
“And I miss you,” Dahlia adds. “We get to lunch and do all the fun things. Maybe even a bit of shopping if we’re good.”
“I love that,” I tell her, not having the heart to admit that I’d rather be waterboarded than shop. “I’ve missed you too.”
“Besides,” she says with a knowing twinkle in her eye. “There’s a new Versace line out.”
“Lovely.”
“And McQueen…”
“I can’t wait.”
“Actually,” she begins and I wonder how many itchy, stuffy things I’m going to have to try on.
My shoulders tightening by the second. The only good part is that I’m no longer nervous about seeing my painting.
“That sounds like too much for today when really, I just want to chat with my new sister. How about we dress like normal people and sneak into a library and smell books instead?”
“That really does sound lovely,” I admit sheepishly.
“I figured,” she says. “Now when it’s my day, I’m going to choose McQueen and McCartney.”
“That’s fair,” I tell her. “As long as you know I’m going to want to see a movie after.”
“Deal.”
Another knock sounds at the door. This one is the steady three knocks of Leo, my protection officer.
“Well then,” Maeve says fondly, shooing us toward the door. “Off with you two troublemakers. Do be safe, my darlings, and don’t cause too much trouble for Leo.”
“We won’t,” I assure her, but when I look back at Dahlia, she’s silently blushing like mad. When we’re out of ear shot from Maeve, before I open the door and we’re with Leo, I whisper, “You better get your face under control. You’re beet red.”
“Oh, fuck off,” she snickers, returning to her normal cheeky self. “It’s just a bit of fun, I promise.”
“I want all the details on that when we’re alone,” I tell her.
“Well, I can’t very well tell you when he’s in the car with us, driving us all about town, now can I?”
“No, I don’t suppose you can,” I admit with my hand on the doorknob. “But don’t think that gets you off the hook.”
“I know,” she says and then we’re the picture of professionalism as we walk side by side down the hall toward the family drive where the car waits.
Leo holds open the door for us as the driver waits beside the dark SUV.
When he sees us exit the castle, he pulls open the rear passenger door of the SUV.
I climb in and slide through, followed by Dahlia, who winks at Leo as he closes the door behind us.
He shakes his head as he pulls open the front passenger door and climbs in.
The mood in the car is light and happy as Dahlia chatters while peppering questions about my honeymoon.
I laugh when she pulls face after face when she accidentally asks me something and the answer is obviously sex with her brother.
Before I know it, the drive across the island is over and butterflies erupt in my belly, though not nearly as much as they would have if Dahlia hadn’t distracted me. And for that, I’m grateful.