by Karr, Kim
Adrien practically growls in the back of his throat, and I don’t tell him that isn’t part of protocol because I’m confident he already knows this.
Instead, I do a quick survey of the crowd to see how I can make this conversation quick and then send Prince Rainer off to speak to someone else who is much more interesting.
When I can’t determine who to stick him with, I attempt to put a genuine smile on my face and stand attentively.
“Princess,” he says, taking my hand and kissing it.
I curtsy with a warm inviting smile. “Prince.”
He turns to Adrien. “I see she’s made her choice. Congratulations,” Prince Rainer offers, extending his hand.
“Yes, she has,” Adrien says smoothly. “Thank you.”
Prince Rainer turns to me. “But Princess, if you’ll beg my pardon, I think you have our laws wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Anyone you marry who is not Alexandrian cannot hold the title of King.”
Adrien scowls and glares at me. “Is this true?”
“You must be mistaken,” I tell Prince Rainer.
He shakes his head. “I am most certain I am not. Prince Laurent, will, of course, be known as either a prince consort or a king consort depending on a number of pesky things. However, to the public, he will be called Prince Adrien, and will not hold any joint power to rule.”
My heart drops to the floor, and Prince Rainer, on the other hand, looks delighted.
“Well then,” I say. “I shall look into this and see what can be done to change it.”
“It’s really quite clear,” he goes on.
Time to get him away from Adrien. “Yes, well, we shall see. Perhaps you’d like to try the gin and Dubonnet punch?” I ask, noticing his wine glass is empty. “It’s really quite delicious.”
His eyes are narrowed on Adrien and he ignores my question. “But at least you won’t be called the washed up royal anymore. Right, mate?” His tone is aggressive and does not go along with the word mate one bit.
Nausea wells in my stomach when Adrien grabs him by the religious shirt collar. “What did you just say?”
“Adrien,” I say, trying to remain calm. “Would you kindly let go of Prince Rainer.”
“I said, at least you won’t be a washed up royal anymore. Too bad it takes screwing this little whore to give you some honor,” Prince Rainer hisses.
My eyes bug out of my head.
He’s calling me a whore?
The nerve he has. He wanted me to pee on him, for goodness sake.
Adrian releases his hold but draws back his fist at the same time. “You sick fuck. Don’t you dare talk about the Princess that way,” he hisses as his fist swings.
“Adrien, no!” I shout as he punches Prince Rainer in the mouth.
No.
No.
No.
Somehow Prince Rainer’s flying hands strike me before he goes flying across the room and I’m knocked against the wall. Stunned, I feel like everything is happening in slow motion.
What have I done?
I lunge for him but I can’t get to him. “Adrien,” I shout.
The sound of the glass Prince Rainer was holding only moments ago shattering everywhere is the only thing I can hear, and I watch the pieces fall, thinking what a good metaphor for my life right now.
I had no idea of such a contingency.
Will he believe me?
When I look up from the shock of it all, I see Truman and Julius have Adrien in their hold and he’s fighting them.
Before I can even see straight, he’s hauling him toward the terrace door. “Calm down, man.”
My eyes dart to the floor when Adrien’s are trained like an assault weapon. Prince Rainer’s hand flies to his mouth. “Do you know who I am?” he rages. “The people I know.”
Adrien turns over his shoulder and seethes, “You’re a fucking piece of shit and I don’t give a fuck who you know.”
Pulling his hand away, Prince Rainer can clearly see it’s smeared with blood. “I’ll have you arrested for assault and battery!”
“Go ahead and try,” Adrien seethes out. “But if you so much as say Victoria’s name again, I’ll kill you first.”
I feel my heart kickstart back to life and watch as Dante grabs Prince Rainer by the collar to haul him to his feet. “You need to leave, now.”
Backpedaling away from all the chaos, he flees.
“Are you okay?” Dante asks, striding toward me.
I blink, and then nod. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Truman comes storming back into the room and toward the front door to where Prince Rainer is speaking to his own bodyguard, who I’m not even sure was involved in the scuffle. Julius is right behind him.
“Truman,” I shout, ignoring all protocol about how Princesses never speak loud in public. Although I know he must hear me, he ignores me.
The room is filled with the tinkling of the piano and the sounds of my heavy breathing as I rush after him and place a hand on his shoulder. “Please, Truman, let him be. He’s leaving.”
Truman turns around and draws in a breath. “What was he doing here, anyway?”
“He invited himself and now he’s leaving,” I tell him, standing tall and pushing my hair back. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to talk to my future husband.”
Running a hand over his head, he tells me, “He’s gone.”
“Why?”
“I told him to leave. He needs to calm down and think things through.”
“Things?”
Truman nods. “He told me what Rainer had to say.”
“And?”
“Did you know all along?”
“No! Of course I did not.”
“Well, either way, Adrien needs to consider if playing the dutiful husband is enough for him.”
“It’s not your place to—”
He cuts me off. “He’s my cousin, and I know him, so it is my place to ask him to think hard about moving forward when I know he will be miserable in the role of consort.”
I shake my head. “I won’t let that happen. I have to talk to him and make sure he knows this,” I say more to myself than to Truman.
“If you really know him, you’ll think twice about what you’re about to do. He’s meant to rule, not sit on the sidelines.”
Yes, I know this, and that’s why I must speak to him. Without another word, I race for the front door.
Slipping past Dante, who is assisting Prince Rainer into his chauffeured car, I run down the drive and see the taillights of Adrien’s Aston Martin as it leaves the compound.
The knot in my throat swells and sticks, rendering me incapable of drawing a breath.
Numbly, I watch the lights fade, and my new life along with it.
WHO NEEDS A LICENSE?
Rain pounds at my face and when the taste of salt and sea fill my senses, I know where he’s going.
To the marina.
To his boat.
Out to sea.
I have to talk to him. Make him understand it won’t be the way he believes. I’ll make certain of it.
With no time to spare, I rush toward Ava’s car and fling the door open. The keys are on the dash where they always are, and not really thinking anything through, I start the engine.
I know how to drive.
Well, know how is stretching it. I have driven a car once or twice, and it’s easy. Almost like steering the boat. Almost.
Gripping the wheel tightly with one hand, I use the other to put the automobile in drive and then press the gas to chase after him.
He has to understand I had no idea.
That I will fix this.
The rain has lessened and thank goodness I have no need to figure out the wipers. Driving along Ruggles Ave is a breeze and then I take Spring, which veers me toward America’s Cup Ave.
Toward the marina. Toward his boat. God, I hope I get there before he sets sail and never returns.
The rain starts to fal
l a bit more, and I end up needing to figure out how the wipers work at the same time I have to negotiate the on-ramp to the Gladys Carr Bolhouse Road Bridge.
As I start to ascend the ramp, the car behind me seems to be picking up speed and quickly closing the distance between us. He flashes his lights at me, but I have no idea what he expects.
The light makes me slightly dizzy and I wonder if the bump against the wall is causing my feeling of unbalance behind the wheel.
Veering to the left to try to allow him room to pass before the two lanes turn into one, I come way too close to the concrete barrier. Needing to slow down, I press my foot hard on the brake, but that must not be the right thing to do because I don’t actually slow down.
Without warning, I’m going into a long, slow sideways skid. I try to jerk the car back into the left lane, but I can’t. Before I know it, I’m spinning around and facing the wrong direction.
All I can see is that same oversized, dark SUV in my rearview mirror or is that the windshield? I don’t even know. But I do know that the vehicle coming toward me is going way too fast.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer still.
I press harder on the brake, but all that does is make me spin and spin and spin.
Time slows with each passing moment and I scream, “He’s going to hit me,” to no one but myself.
The screeching sound of metal on metal doesn’t ease my worry and the only thing I can do is just keep screaming.
There’s no stopping the oncoming automobile, so I bear down on the wheel and prepare to crash.
The last thing I see is the SUV—its windshield tinted impenetrably black—before squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for the inevitable.
What have I done?
COHORTING
The Eastwood Examiner
News
WE SEE YOU
By Dominick Wilfork
King Rutherford has been seen talking to King Winston of Casanovia and Queen Helena of Wimberly.
Summer is traditionally a time for holiday, but our King has been very busy meeting with a select few of the heads of state for the Vespa Isles.
Perhaps they are discussing vacation plans?
I’d say not…but what on earth could they be discussing?
Did you say Alexandria?
I think you did.
Oh, wait, or could it be gambling?
My guess is both.
WHAM-BAM!
The Eastwood Examiner
News
WE WANT MORE
By Dominick Wilfork
Our Washed Up Royal, Prince Adrien Laurent, seems to be back in the news.
Spotted in Newport, Rhode Island recently with an unidentified woman, he has now gotten himself in a scuffle with Prince Rainer of Wimberly. Prince Rainer is keeping the details to himself but says he will seek restitution for a heated altercation.
The photo of him wearing his religious collar shows a black eye and swollen lip. What could provoke such an outburst against a man of the cloth?
Dare I say said mysterious woman?
Blasphemy.
My lips are sealed.
THAT DAMN 4-LETTER WORD
A dull pain radiates through my head and travels all the way to the tips of my toes.
Where am I?
The linens are scratchy. It smells of disinfectant. I open my eyes to see beige walls and then I look up and notice an IV pole.
Oh no! A hospital?
The rain.
The car.
The accident.
Adrien. Adrien. I reach for my necklace, which is thankfully still there. I have to get out of here and find him. I’m about to press the call button when the door opens. For a moment, I think it’s going to be him, but then I sigh when I see it’s my uncle, Sir Isaac Brantley, the maker of all this chaos in my life.
I’m doomed.
His salt-and-pepper hair, rather hulking figure, and cunning blue eyes are the same as they were before I left, and he’s staring at me with the same disapproval he always has, but there’s a look of concern on his face as well. “Oh, my word, Tori,” he says hoarsely.
“You never refer to me as Tori,” I whisper, going immediately on guard.
He steps closer. “Perhaps because you’ve never been in a situation quite like this.”
I glance down at the bed. I feel fine. I look to be in one piece. I touch my face. There’s a bandage on my forehead but aside from that, I think I’m well. “I wasn’t hurt badly but thank you for your concern.”
“I’m not talking about your health.”
“Then what—” Sucking in a deep breath, I try to steady myself. The pressure building in my chest feels intense. I drag in another breath, blow it out and try again. “Then what do you mean, like this?”
The look of disapproval he gives tells me all I need to know and my panic turns into fear.
When my trembling comes, I can’t stop it. “Have I been exiled? Be honest, I’d rather know now than learn about it on social media.”
He shakes his head. “No, not that I’m aware of. Not yet, anyway. As far as I know, Parliament hasn’t even been notified you’ve been found.”
“You mean you didn’t ring them up first thing?”
When he pats my hand, I nearly jump. “No, I have not.”
I look away from his sympathy even though the temptation is there to lean on him, to ask for his help in making things better. But then I remember how I got here, and all that temptation vanishes.
The cool calculated planning on his part…Not having realized I’ve sat forward, I sink back into the pillows. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Victoria,” he says, and it’s there, the condescending voice and the he knows what’s right for me attitude. “I am trying to keep my patience, but you aren’t making it easy. I mean, look at you. What have you done with yourself?”
Ignoring his blasphemy, I ask, “How did you know I was here?”
“Queen Genevieve was informed by a member of the Montgomery household staff and she thought I should know my niece was taken to the hospital.”
Sighing is all I can do.
The door swings open and a nurse comes in. “Oh good, Ava, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” she asks anxiously.
Oh, God, I’m Ava in the hospital.
This is so bad.
I clear my throat. “Good, fine actually,” I tell her, noticing my uncle’s lifted brows.
At her skeptical look, I ignore him and start examining myself again. “This morning you weren’t feeling so well,” she informs me, sticking a thermometer in my mouth. “I’m glad you’re better.”
Oh yes, now I recall waking up groggy and in pain. People were in the room, but I couldn’t see their faces. The doctor gave me something that made me drowsy and then I fell asleep. “Well, yes, I’m better now.”
Her fingers press the pulse on my wrist. “You certainly are.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“You were brought in a little more than twenty-four hours ago, so almost a day.”
“And the other car?” I ask, “Was everybody inside okay?”
She purses her lips. “As far as I know, you were the only one brought in.”
“Oh, that’s strange. I thought a black SUV struck me.”
Jotting down her assessment, she slides the chart in the clear holder by the door. “I honestly don’t know. But I’ll alert the doctor you’ve woken.”
“Thank you,” I tell her and she closes the door as she leaves.
“The vehicle that you struck was found empty,” my uncle informs me. And I take notice that he says I struck them when I know it was the other way around.
“You mean the driver just walked away?”
Stepping toward the bed, he nods. “Or ran. No one knows for certain.”
My brows shoot up. “Why on earth would someone do that?”
He gives me a shrug. “This is the States. Who knows why peopl
e do what they do.”
The door opens again and this time Ava bursts through it but stops short when she sees my uncle. “Oh, good, you’re awake,” she says, her voice soft and soothing as she ignores the elephant in the room.
I give her a smile. “Hi, Ava.”
Oops. I shouldn’t use her name, my name, whatever it is.
Recognizing who she is, my uncle glares at her and then snaps, “Leave us!”
“Excuse me.” Ava glares right back at my uncle. “I’m here to check on,” she lowers her voice, “the Princess, and make sure she’s okay, which is more than I can say for you.”
He points to the machine with my vitals. “She’s fine, now, like I requested, leave.”
“I’m getting my sister.”
My uncle rushes to the door and yanks it open. “Do that, will you? I need to speak to the Princess’s private secretary immediately.”
“Just for the record,” she tells him, “you’re in the United States of America, and have no authority whatsoever.”
Jerking his chin toward the corridor, he barks, “Then report me, and while you’re at it, why don’t you let the police know that Ava Smart is not the woman who was driving or the woman in this hospital bed.”
Ava looks entirely too worried or frightened and when she gulps in terror, my uncle eats it up like the villain he is. “I’ll get my sister.”
Leaning down, he speaks slow and direct. “That would be an excellent idea because if she isn’t in my presence in less than an hour, I will notify the embassy that the Princess is in mortal danger, and I can guarantee you they will have her evacuated and back to Alexandria before you can even dial 9-1-1.”
The shock on Ava’s face isn’t a surprise, nor is his threat. She looks at me and I nod that she should leave. The danger in my uncle’s voice is real and I need backup on this matter right away.
My uncle is being a total dick, as Rachel would say, and as Ava practically runs out of the room, I close my eyes. Going head to head with this man is what got me where I am, so I really don’t want to ignite his temper anymore because I have no idea where I’ll land if I do.