Royal Disaster: The Complete Series

by Casey, Ember

  Pax slides an arm around me. “That went a lot better than I expected.”

  I glance up at him before looking back out at the city. “You think so?” I shake my head. “My mother…my mother is a gracious woman. She would be kind the worst dictator, to the cruelest people you can imagine.” I press my lips in a line before I look up at him again. “That did not go well.”

  His brow furrows for a moment before he pulls me toward him, wrapping his other arm around me to encircle my waist. “What’s the worst thing that could happen? It’s something I ask myself when I start worrying about things.” He gives me a weak smile. “Seriously. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

  I take a step backward, pulling myself from his embrace as I make a sweeping motion with my arm toward the window. “That. Losing that is the worst thing that could happen.”

  “It isn’t yours to lose, is it?” He stares at me for a long moment. “There’s a big world out there, Sophia. This is only a tiny part of it.”

  “It’s my home, Pax.” I look out the window again, my stomach clenching at the thought of never seeing this view again. “This is my home.”

  “Home is where you make it. And like your mom said, people can be impulsive when they’re in love. People make sacrifices—”

  “I don’t think that’s what she said.” I tilt my head. “And are we in love?”

  His mouth falls open, and he gapes at me for a second. “I…we…”

  “You’ve said it. Several times, in fact. But each time, you were inebriated out of your mind. It makes it a little hard to justify making a stupid decision for love.”

  “Well, you haven’t said it, either. Not specifically.” He frowns at me. “Look, we just need to put on the act for a little while longer, just until we meet your father—”

  “So it is an act?”

  “That isn’t what I meant.” His frown deepens. “You know what I meant.”

  I stare at him for a moment. “How much of what my mother suggested is true? The part about this being a publicity stunt? You have to admit, if a person is looking at our situation from an objective point of view, it looks very suspicious.”

  “Obviously, this wedding thing wasn’t planned. It isn’t like I twisted your arm to say yes, either.” His expression scrunches up for a moment, and I can see he’s trying to cover his anger. “A tiny bit.” He holds up a hand, measuring the air with his index finger and thumb. “This much was for publicity. A tiny, tiny fraction. And you already knew that. Mick’s been pretty obvious about what he thought was best for the band.”

  “Do you love me?” I’m not sure that I want to hear the answer considering he’s sober. Of course I knew that some of this “relationship” was for publicity. That part of it has never been a secret. But now that we have a legal bond between us, there’s a growing part of me that needs to know if he actually has feelings for me, or if he’s only entertaining this marriage as part of the act.

  “Sophia…” His brow furrows again, and he frowns so deeply lines form around his mouth.

  “You wanted to know the worst thing that could happen.” I glance out the window again. “And as I said, the worst thing that could happen is that I have to give up my home. There is a very real chance that my father will exile me if I don’t agree to annul our marriage. You’re asking me to make an impossible choice, and I don’t know how you truly feel about me, Pax.”

  “You do know how I truly feel about you.” He takes my hand in his. “I just…I can’t say it. Not sober, anyway.”

  “And that’s a problem. A huge problem. If you have to drink to show any emotion—”

  “I don’t have to drink to show emotion, Sophia.” His tone is sharp, almost cutting as he drops my hand. “It’s complicated. And I’m not about to talk about it. Not here. Not now.”

  “When? When will you talk about it?”

  “When…when I feel like it. Or never.” He lets out a huff that’s almost a growl. “Aren’t we supposed to be meeting with your father?”

  “Yes. Yes, we are.” I blink back the tears that fill my eyes from nowhere. What was I expecting him to say? That he loved me and it would all be worth it if it comes down to making the choice between him and Montovia?

  I’m an idiot. My mother was right—this was an impulsive, ridiculous decision I made. Even if I was drunk when I did it, I should have known better. I should have had some sense about me to make a more intelligent choice.

  But when Pax pulls my hand into his again as we walk toward my father’s office, the same sense of warmth fills me that does every time we touch. And I’m again overwhelmed with the sense that this is somehow right, even if it is completely and utterly wrong from my family’s perspective.

  Stephan pulls open the door to my father’s office as we approach, almost as though he knew we were right outside.

  He glares at me for a moment before turning to sneer up at Pax. “His Royal Majesty, King Edmund will see you now.” He glances back at me, lifting his nose before looking back up at Pax. “But only you, Patrick Donovan. You’ll be meeting with His Royal Majesty alone.”

  Pax

  I was feeling confident after our chat with the queen, but now I’m back to not knowing what the fuck I’m doing.

  “Alone?” I glance at Sophia. I was warned that that would be a possibility, but after the meeting with the queen, I’d completely forgotten. “I never agreed to that.”

  “It’s not your decision,” the man says with a sniff. “It’s His Majesty’s order.”

  Sophia speaks up. “Pax and I should probably speak to my father together, Stephan.”

  “I have my orders, and I will obey them, Your Highness,” he replies. “Your father’s will is preeminent in this palace.”

  I look to Sophia, waiting for her to take the lead—she knows more about how things work around here than I do—but my stomach sinks when she looks at me with defeat in her eyes.

  “We should probably listen to him,” she says. “Starting off this conversation by directly disobeying my father isn’t going to win us any points with him.”

  “You actually think it’s better this way?”

  “You’ll do fine,” she says, though she didn’t seem so sure of that a few minutes ago. “Just be charming and try not to put your foot in your mouth.”

  “What am I supposed to tell him? About you know what?” I ask in a hushed voice, shooting a look at the stuffy man who’s clearly straining to hear us. I slide my left hand into my pocket, hiding the ring on my finger, but for all I know it might be too late for that.

  Am I about to walk into an ambush from a powerful man who already knows everything, or am I about to walk into a brutal interview with a man who doesn’t know the truth yet? Do I immediately beg for forgiveness or do I keep my lips shut and pretend I’ve done nothing wrong?

  I haven’t done anything wrong, not in my opinion, anyway. But I know Sophia’s father won’t see it that way. At the very least, I’m going to have to answer to him about that sex tape.

  The stuffy man sniffs again. “His Majesty does not like to be kept waiting.”

  “Fine,” I say, releasing Sophia’s hand. “I’ll go alone.” I’m Pax Donovan, for fuck’s sake. Rock god and international celebrity. I’m not going to let some pompous royal intimidate me, even if he is Sophia’s father. I’m not Montovian. He doesn’t rule over me.

  The stuffy man turns and leads me through the set of double doors behind him. We cross a small room with a desk and some fancy décor to another set of double doors. The man knocks once, in a stiff, formal way like he’s done this a thousand times before. I wonder if he and the king have their own set of secret knocks—one knock for his daughter’s boyfriends, two for people the king doesn’t want to murder…

  “Enter,” comes a voice through the door.

  I straighten involuntarily as the stuffy man opens the doors and gestures for me to go through.

  “Your Majesty,” the man says, “I present Patric
k Donovan, as requested.”

  I stare down the man sitting in front of me. As with the queen, there’s no mistaking that this man is royalty through and through. He carries himself like a man who’s used to being obeyed. He has short, graying hair and a close-clipped beard, and his eyes are steely as I step forward.

  This is definitely not a man you want to piss off. But it’s too late for that, I’m guessing. The queen may have tried to butter him up before we got here, but I don’t think it worked.

  I should probably say something. Or bow. Sophia didn’t tell me about any of that. Are there rules for how you’re supposed to address a king, even if you’re not one of his subjects? I didn’t have to bow to the queen, but that whole meeting seemed a lot less formal.

  Finally, I decide to just be myself.

  “Nice to meet you, Your Majesty,” I say with a smile. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

  The king’s mouth twitches slightly. “Nice place?”

  “This palace,” I say, casually indicating the room around us. “Quite impressive. Love what you’ve done with it.”

  The stuffy man is still behind me, and he makes a small sound to show his displeasure. The king sits back in his chair, never taking that steely gaze off of me.

  “Your manners leave something to be desired,” he says finally. “Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Donovan?”

  “Of course. Pretty obvious, isn’t it? Sophia and I came to see you, not the other way around. I should probably be asking you if you know why we’re here.”

  His upper lip twitches again. “Do you think you’re clever, Mr. Donovan?”

  I shrug. “Not any more than the average man.” But I’m tired of playing games. “Why did you ask to see me alone? Don’t you want to see your daughter?”

  “I have seen her. Far too much of her, in fact. And I have you to blame for that.” The steeliness in his eyes is starting to look more like fury. “You have some gall, showing your face here after what you’ve done to my daughter.”

  He’s talking about the sex tape. It’s hard to defend against that, but I have to try.

  “Believe me, Your Majesty, I didn’t make that video. I would never do that to Sophia.”

  “And why should I believe you? You’ve shown nothing but disrespect to her and this family since the very beginning. Nicholas has made it clear that you are not the least bit worthy of—”

  “With all due respect, Your Majesty, Nicholas is a pompous asshole who’s had it out for me from the beginning. He’s not exactly an objective observer here.” I hear the stuffy man gasp behind me at the words pompous asshole, but I keep going. “I care about your daughter. And I respect her. And I would never—”

  “I’ll be the judge of respect,” the king says, his voice rising. “A respectful man doesn’t insult another man’s children in front of him. In these last two minutes you’ve proved everything I feared to be true. You are disrespectful, crude, and—”

  “And I could say the same of you.”

  There’s another gasp from the man behind me—this time, he doesn’t even try to hide it. He steps forward.

  “Your Majesty, I will remove this man from your presence at once—”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I want to hear what His Majesty has to say.”

  The king rises from his chair, his eyes burning into me.

  “I intended to give you a chance, Mr. Donovan, but you’ve made this very easy for me. My daughter deserves better than a vulgar, self-serving, barbarian like you. You will leave my palace and my country and once, and you will never lay a finger on my daughter again.”

  I’m starting to get angry myself. “Your daughter is old enough to make her own decisions. And if she decides—”

  “My daughter will do as I say,” the king snaps. “As will you.”

  “I don’t care if you’re a king. I won’t be bullied.” I cross my arms. “And neither, I suspect, will your daughter. If you want her to have respect, then you should show her some yourself and trust her to make her own choices.”

  The king marches around his desk toward me, never taking his gaze off my face. “Is this a game to you? Or are you simply waiting for me to offer you something to go?” He stops right in front of me. “That’s it, isn’t it? You need an incentive to leave her alone. You want money.”

  I laugh. “I don’t need your money, Your Majesty.”

  “Maybe not as much as other men, but everyone has a price. What’s yours?”

  I can’t believe it—this fucker is actually serious.

  “I don’t have a price,” I insist. “I don’t want your damn money.”

  “Then what is it you want? The publicity? Andrew suggested that might be the case. You’re doing all of this to promote your little band.”

  My fists clench at my sides. “All I want is Sophia.”

  “You’re not as good a liar as you think, Mr. Donovan.”

  “I’m not lying. It’s the truth! I love Sophia, Your Majesty, and—”

  “Enough!” he roars, temper flaring. “I’ve had enough of this. You will remove yourself from my sight at once, and if you’re not gone from these borders within the hour, then I’ll—”

  He’s cut off by the door swinging open and Sophia bursting in.

  “Father, wait,” she says breathlessly. “If he goes, then I go, too.”

  The king turns his angry glare onto his daughter. “Stay out of this, Sophia. I make the rules here, and I will not have this vulgar, disrespectful man in my home a moment longer. Your little fling is over.”

  “It’s not a fling,” Sophia protests.

  “It’s over either way.”

  “No,” she says, sticking out her chin. “It’s not. We’re married, Father.”

  That news hits him like a ton of bricks. If there was still a question of whether or not he knew the full truth, I’ve got my answer—the shock in his face is obvious. His intimidating composure visibly crumbles. “You’re…what?”

  “Married,” Sophia says, taking my hand. “That’s what we came here to tell you.”

  Sophia

  My father’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head.

  He stares at me for a long moment before edging himself back around his desk and dropping into his chair. His gaze never leaves mine, and I’d swear he was trying to kill me with his eyes.

  “Your Majesty…” Pax’s tone has changed to something a little more respectful. “Like I was trying to tell you—”

  “Remove yourselves from my office at once.” My father’s tone has changed, too, though I’m not quite sure how to interpret it. At least he isn’t bellowing loud enough for the entire palace to hear. His face has turned a sickly sort of gray, though it’s probably just from the shock of our news.

  He makes a dismissive motion with his hand. “Just…go.”

  I glance up at Pax, giving him a nod. He takes my hand as we leave my father’s offices.

  Stephan follows us out. “You’ve really done it now, Your Highness. If your father’s heart should give out again, we’ll all know who to blame—”

  I interrupt the stout man, spinning on my heel to face him. “I’ll not have you speaking to me in such a manner, Stephan. I’ll remind you that you are not in line for the throne.”

  He lifts his nose, giving me a slight huff before he turns to go back into his office.

  Pax grins at me as the door slams behind Stephan. “Way to tell that little piece of shit.”

  My chest is tight with shame, and I shake my head. “I don’t…do that. I don’t ever throw my station in someone’s face like that. I’ve never…”

  Pax takes my other hand in his, giving them both a squeeze. “Sometimes, you have to.” He throws a glance behind him at the closed doors. “And who gives a shit what those two think? We don’t need their permission—”

  “Actually, I do need…” Tears fill my eyes. “I do need my father’s permission, Pax. I know you don’t understand, but our lives will be a lot�
�easier if he gives our relationship his blessing.”

  He shrugs. “It isn’t like he can annul the marriage himself—”

  “He actually can.” I blink back my tears—I’m not even sure where any of this emotion is coming from. Only a little while ago, I was questioning whether or not I loved the man in front of me—whether I really wanted to be married to him. And now I can’t imagine losing him.

  I let out a long breath. “Our marriage would be legal in your country, assuming all the paperwork was in order. But here…” I shake my head. “My father can refuse to recognize it. And if he does…” Tears fill my eyes again. “I don’t know what will happen.”

  “So…we’d be married in the States. But nowhere else?”

  “Possibly.” I suddenly find myself wishing I’d paid more attention in my Montovian law classes. “But I might be worrying for nothing. My mother might convince him—”

  I’m interrupted by the commotion coming from down the corridor. A half-dozen people are rushing toward us, one with a medical gurney.

  Pax and I are whisked aside as they race into the offices. A moment later, Andrew runs toward us from the other side of the hallway.

  He stops in front of us, glaring at me for a moment before shaking his head. “What have you done?”

  “I…” My gaze slides between my brother and the open door of my father’s outer office, and I realize what must have happened.

  Pax slides an arm around my waist, almost as though he’s trying to protect me.

  Andrew looks through the doorway then back over at me. “If Father should—”

  He’s cut off by the team of medical personnel racing back out of the office with my father on the gurney. The physician is calling out orders as they move, and I barely catch a glimpse of my father on the bed as they race past me.

  The sickly gray pallor he had earlier has only worsened. His gaze meets mine for an instant before his eyes close, and shame fills me again. If I was the cause of this—if I am the reason he’s ill again…I’m not sure I can live with myself.