by Vivian Wood
The three of us giggled as we kept walking in the exquisite gardens. They were truly the pride of the castle, with rich, lush winter greens accompanying us on the walk through the maze. It had tall hedges, rose bushes with brilliant blooms guiding our way through the castle. Safiya had told us one secret already – that we had to follow the white roses to find out way to the center of the maze. The red roses marked every wrong turn leading into the center.
It was quite cold outside, and we’d all bundled up in our warmest clothes. I wore a scarlet red Stella McCartney dress over sheer black stockings and black leather boots by Chloe, and a black cape trimmed with faux fur I’d gotten from Rose, a custom-tailored piece. The other girls wore real furs, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that, I loved animals too much.
Zara bundled up in her brown rabbit while Safiya pulled her white wool coat adorned with silver fox tighter around her chest. It was a cool morning, and our breath came out in white circles as we walked over the property.
“Tell us more,” Zara encouraged our friend. “I want to know everything!”
“You didn’t do any research yourself?” Safiya raised her eyebrows, a playful smile on her lips. “Don’t worry, girls, I’m more than happy to impart my wisdom.”
“Go on then,” I urged her. “Tell us more.”
“I’ve told you most of the history, right?” Safiya asked, and the two of us nodded eagerly. “Prince Olivier’s father, King Sebastian, ruled with a firm first. He wasn’t a kind ruler, but he was fair. The country flourished under his rule. He amassed riches to conquer every other kingdom in Europe. He was wealthy, he made all the right decisions, and he took care of his family. There was only one mystery that was never solved before he died…”
“Which one?” Zara rushed to ask, her eyes burning bright with curiosity. “You can’t stop now, Safiya!”
Our friend’s eyes sparkled. She knew she’d hooked us, and even I was eager to find out more, cursing myself for not doing more research on the royal family before we arrived at the castle.
“The King had a bastard son,” Safiya went on, eliciting a gasp from Zara.
“Bruno, right?” I asked before I could stop myself. Secrets, secrets, secrets will be the end of me, I thought to myself as both the girls turned to face me with matching curious expressions.
“You know about him?” Safiya asked. “I thought it was a secret… for a while, I even thought it was an urban legend!”
“He picked me up from the a-airport,” I stuttered. “He didn’t pick you girls up?”
“No,” Safiya shook her head, and Zara mirrored her reaction. “I really didn’t think he was real. I thought it was all tales, that he was made-up. I haven’t seen him in the castle. Have you, Amber?”
I thought back to my time in Luxuria and realized I hadn’t seen Bruno either, not since that first day at the airport. I shook my head.
“What does he look like?” Zara rushed to ask. “I wonder if he’s as handsome as Prince Olivier.”
“He is,” I admitted reluctantly. “Though they look very different… I guess Olivier must look more like his father, I don’t see the family resemblance with the Queen.”
The girls showered me with questions and I laughed, doing my best to answer them all. Now, I was questioning Bruno’s presence at the airport. Why had he only picked me up, but not the other girls? Was I special in some sort of way? Or was he just scoping things out for his brother?
I realized with a start Olivier had never mentioned his brother to me. Perhaps there was animosity between them? I vowed to get to the bottom of it soon.
I remembered Bruno clearly now, the dark hair, the piercing grey eyes. Where had I seen those eyes before? They felt so familiar when I thought of them. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it. But there was an air about him I didn’t trust completely, something to suggest he was perhaps more sinister than he let on.
“Safiya, tell us more about what you know,” I finally said when they’d exhausted my knowledge of the royal bastard. “Who is Bruno’s mother?”
“Well, that seems to be the biggest mystery,” she confided in us. “Nobody really knows, but some say she was a maid at the castle.”
“Sounds so mysterious,” Zara muttered. “We need to find out more, girls.”
“What does it matter?” I shrugged. “We’re here for Olivier, right?”
“Right,” Zara nodded, her eyes glittering with mischief. “Though I have a feeling Bruno might be the perfect consolation prize.”
We all laughed out loud.
“Have you girls dated before?” I asked, my heart thumping in my chest as I got the question out. They turned to face me and I rushed to add, “Obviously, nothing serious… But surely you’ve had other men courting you?”
“I suppose,” Safiya said with a devilish smile. “Though I can’t say I was interested. I had other things on my mind…”
“Like what?” Zara asked, but she shrugged, giving us a mysterious smile. I made a mental note of it for later before turning to face my other new friend.
“What about you, Zara?” I asked.
“Well…” she gave me a glance filled with worry. “There was someone… Someone my parents really wanted me to marry. But when the invitation came, I was grateful for it.”
“You didn’t want to marry the other boy?” Safiya asked.
“Boy?” Zara let out a bitter laugh. “He wasn’t a boy. He was twenty years my senior… And no, I didn’t want to marry him. It would’ve been an arranged marriage though, as is our custom, and I couldn’t have done much to fight it. And if I don’t win… I’ll have to go back home, and probably marry him, anyway.”
“That’s awful,” I muttered, squeezing her trembling hand. “I had no idea, Zara. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged, the happy-go-lucky smile that was her signature returning to her face as she brightly retorted, “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
I gave her an encouraging smile, my heart thumping in my chest. What else was I supposed to do? In the end, we would still be each other’s competition. We all wanted Olivier, but only one of us would stay in Luxuria and become his bride.
“What about you, Safiya?” I asked next. “Ever been in a relationship?”
“I have,” she replied, giving me a mysterious smile. I could tell there was more to the story, and she was staying tight-lipped on purpose, whether to make us more curious or because she didn’t want us to know, I wasn’t sure.
“Anyone for Olivier to be jealous of?” Zara waggled her brows, and all three of us giggled in unison. “Was he from Egypt too?”
“She,” Safiya replied with a grin, making Zara’s mouth gape open.
“Are you for real?” she asked. “You dated a woman?”
“Yes,” Safiya shrugged. “I went to an all girls’ school. It was my little form of rebellion.”
“You just got about ten times cooler in Zara’s eyes,” I told her, making both of them laugh.
“I can’t believe it,” Zara gushed. “Why did you break up?”
“She lived on the other side of the world,” Safiya shrugged. “And our families didn’t approve, obviously. But enough about that. And don’t mention it to the others. You guys can keep a secret, right?”
Zara was quick to nod, but Safiya was looking right at me when she asked the question. Why was she so quick to judge me? I wouldn’t disappoint her, her secret was safe with me, but I didn’t like that she was quicker to think I’d tattle over Zara. I offered her a cool smile, nodding to signify I wouldn’t tell a soul.
“Do you still love her?” Zara blurted, and I chastised her with a long that she studiously ignored. “I just want to know. You wouldn’t be here if you did, right?”
Safiya’s mouth set in a thin line and she refused to meet our eyes.
“Either way, it doesn’t matter,” she responded. “And it’s none of your business. I’m moving on, one way or another.”
Zara looked away, flushing, and discomfort set
tled between us like a poisonous snake coiling itself around our friendship.
“Do you know anything else about Luxuria?” I was quick to ask Safiya, to try and dissuade the tension. “Any local myths and legends about the royals?”
“There is something.” The sparkle was back in Safiya’s eyes as she turned back to face us. “There are quite a few castles in Luxuria, given how small it is. One of them is very close to here… See those woods?”
She pointed at the dense forest looming in the distance, and Zara and I nodded in response.
“There’s an urban legend that there’s a castle within them,” Safiya told us. “So well-hidden and protected no one has seen it in centuries. It’s private land, with guards watching for trespassers, so it could be plausible.”
“Another castle?” Zara asked. “Do people still use it, or is it a museum?”
“Legend says,” Safiya went on. “A monster lives there with his captive. But when I was reading up on it, I found out monster and his victim might have become one in more ways than one…”
“That sounds…” I started.
“Exciting!” Zara cut in, clapping her hands together. “Oh my gosh, I love these fairytales. Did you find any more information, Safiya?”
The other girl shook her head, but there was no mistaking the flash of interest in her eyes.
“It’s part of the reason I came here,” she finally confessed. “I’ve always been interested in urban legends, this one being just one of them. I will try to research it a bit more, and let you know what you find out.”
“Yes, please,” Zara said, and I found myself nodding along. I was genuinely curious. Could there be any truth to the story of the mysterious castle? I was eager to find out.
“Hello, ladies.”
The three of us turned in the direction of the deep, booming voice, and flushed in unison.
“Your Highness.”
Safiya was the first to curtsy, with Zara and me following her greeting. Olivier stood a little way off, and my heart started thumping against my chest once again. He’s come to find me! I thought to myself. Oh, if only Freya were here to see this.
I wore a triumphant smile on my lips when Olivier said, “I’m so sorry to break up your pleasant morning, but I was hoping to borrow one of you. Would that be okay?”
The girls looked at me, both with pride and jealousy, and I felt my chest swelling with emotion, unable to get rid of the smile on my face.
“Not at all,” they said.
“Perfect,” Olivier grinned, his gaze drinking me in. I could just tell his mind was on the night in my bedroom, on his fingers bringing me pleasure like I’d never felt before. “Zara, will you come with me?”
Excuse me?
I gritted my teeth as my friend exchanged surprised glances with us before curtsying again, taking Olivier’s arm and following him out of the maze. She threw me an apologetic look over her shoulder while I stood there stewing in my own jealousy.
He is supposed to pick me every time.
Jealousy cut through me like a knife, and Safiya knew better than to say a word as we made our way back to the castle, where the other girls were waiting.
Chapter Nine
Olivier
After being forced to run some royal business, my schedule had finally cleared up enough, so I could be available for a dinner with the women in the competition.
I knew Amber was angry with me, but instead of making me worried, it brought a smirk to my face. I fucking loved making her jealous. She seemed so headstrong at times, I couldn’t help but want to shake her confidence a little. Those moments when she doubted herself, when she hated me with all her might… in those moments, she was the most vulnerable she’d ever been for me, and I fucking loved it. I knew eventually I’d bring more of her submissiveness out to play, but for now, I’d have to be happy with the moments I stole from her by toying with her body, mind and soul.
Dinner was to be a traditional Luxurian affair – with all of us in our best clothing, and with live music. I was enthusiastic. After my father’s death five years ago, we’d never quite gotten back to the energetic, sparkling essence of the castle.
I picked out a Berluti midnight blue velvet tuxedo, pairing it with cognac-colored moccasin penny loafers. My hair was slicked back, the unruly curls tamed into submission, the faint hint of stubble on my jaw. I finished off the look with a splash of tobacco cologne on my wrists and neck.
I knew I looked good, and as I entered the candlelit dining hall, the gasps, giggles and whispers of my girls only served to confirm it.
I grinned to myself as I walked over to my mother, sitting at the head of the table. She smiled affectionately as I pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. We hadn’t had the easiest relationship lately, but I was pleased to see her adapting to me. I wasn’t going to let her rule over my life. She might be the Queen, but she wasn’t the boss of me.
My eyes scanned the gathered crowd and settled on a head of flame-red hair. I grinned to myself, walking over to the girl with my hand brushing the sleeve of her dark grey dress. But when she turned around to face me, I didn’t recognize her face.
Of course. Eva, the other girl with red hair, who looked frighteningly like Amber.
I offered her an apologetic smile, then realized I’d better say something.
“Looking beautiful tonight,” I managed before retreating with a disarming smile. I saw the girl’s composure slip for a mere second as she let me see a more vulnerable side to her. It was beautiful, and my smile was genuine.
Finally, I located Amber standing at the edge of the room with her friend, Zara. I’d had a good chat with Zara the previous day. I’d wanted to get to know her better since Amber seemed to be so close with her, but I couldn’t lie to myself – it pleased me immensely to see how jealous Amber had gotten when I’d led her friend away instead of her. A little bit of jealousy put fire in her, and I fucking loved how riled up she got.
Our eyes met across the room and she parted her lips in a surprised o-shape that was soon replaced by a delighted smile. I winked at her, smirking before returning my attention to my mother.
In a few minutes, we’d all sat down around the large, intricately cut oak table, and the servants started coming out with the first course of our meal.
I’d been forced to sit next to my mother, with Freya taking the seat next to me, and Asya, the Turkish princess, the one opposite me. I kept glancing at Amber, but she kept her distance, sitting a few seats down from me. I guess it wasn’t fair to the other girls to keep picking her as a favorite… but how the fuck was I supposed to help myself?
That night especially, Amber looked like a fucking vision.
She wore a midi-length dress with thin spaghetti straps, the top of the dress draping across her bust and exposing the top of her décolletage in beautiful cobalt blue silk. The bottom of the dress was down to her knees in a gorgeous fluid fabric that elongated her limbs. She’d paired it with simple thin-strapped suede black sandals, and a white faux fur stole draped over her creamy shoulders. Her hair was down… and now I was staring, and my mother had caught on to it.
I glanced at her, seeing her displeasure right away.
“Enjoying dinner, mother?” I asked in a perfectly pleasant voice.
“Very,” she replied, tight-lipped.
A felt a sliver of remorse, realizing maybe I’d been too harsh on her. She was controlling, but she did only want the best for me, and I could hardly blame her for that. Of course, the moment I considered moving on, she piped up with another concern.
“Speak to Asya,” she bit out at me when no one was listening. “She’s the next best thing after Stephanie. A princess, Olivier! That’s exactly what this castle needs.”
She gave me a long look imploring me to do what she said, but the rebellious streak I’d once indulged in made me want to defy her. I turned to Freya instead, who seemed delighted at the prospect of my company.
We chatted for a while and I got to
know her better, finding out she came from a family of three siblings, all boys. She spoke about her brothers with affection, and I liked how obvious it was that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. I liked an independent woman. It was that much sweeter to watch her submit for me.
“Olivier,” my mother interrupted, and I turned my eyes to her. She gave me another imploring look, glancing between myself and Asya, and I swallowed the reply my mind wanted to give her.
I turned my attention to Asya and engaged her in conversation.
She was beautiful, but then again, weren’t they all?
Asya’s features reminded me of a porcelain doll, all big eyes and plump, pouty lips. Her skin looked like porcelain and she smiled so prettily I wanted to capture every moment her lips turned up.
If I was being completely honest with myself, I had to admit I was very much enjoying my time with her. But I didn’t want to give her false hope. I already knew who would be left standing at the end of the competition.
Once our conversation ended, I gave her a smile and returned to my meal, but my mother wouldn’t have any of it. She turned to face me again, impatiently touching my hand with her cool fingers laden with expensive rings.
“Olivier,” she reminded me again. “Ask Asya about her country’s history. There’s so much to learn about Turkish culture… Not quite as brutish as I’d imagined!”
She laughed, and Asya returned a nervous smile, though I could tell she was uncomfortable.
And suddenly I’d had enough. Enough of my mother’s cloying presence, enough of her demands to pick a wife she approved of. It was my path, my journey to take, and I would end up with the woman she’d clearly despised from the beginning, hard as she might try to dissuade me from it.
“I need some air,” I growled, pushing my chair back, much to the annoyance of my mother.
“Stay,” she insisted. “They’re almost ready with the next course. I ordered them to serve quail eggs, Olivier – your favorite!”
“I’ll be back shortly,” I ground out without quite meeting her eyes.