Royal Disaster #5

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Royal Disaster #5 Page 7

by Renna Peak


  “Pax…” I stroke his arm, tracing the lines of the tattoo that curls around his bicep. “I know that isn’t true. After you told me her name, I had Victoria look—”

  “I know you did.” He finally meets my gaze, shaking his head as tears fill his eyes again. “I was in the car, Sophia. I made her drive because I was too drunk.”

  I let out another long breath, unsure of what the right words are.

  “She was probably more drunk than I was.” His bottom lip begins to quiver and he stares again at the wall. “She was more drunk than I was. And when we hit that tree…” A tear spills down his cheek, his voice breaking. “I laughed. I laughed so hard. I was such an asshole.” He brings his gaze back to mine. “I laughed, Sophia. She was dead, and I was laughing.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Pax. You were both drunk. Young and stupid.” My voice is little more than a whisper. “You can’t blame yourself for being young or stupid.”

  “If I had been the one driving, I would have been the one who died. And I’ve spent every second of my life since that accident believing that it should have been me. My stupidity killed her. My selfishness took her life. I never believed I deserved to still be here, but I couldn’t bring myself to take my own life. I’m too much of a fucking coward. But I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

  I thread his fingers through mine. “You said you saw her? In your dream?”

  He nods, squeezing my hand. “I did. She said I needed to let her go. To let it all go. I never thought I could. I never thought I’d ever let any of it go. She deserves better.”

  “She deserves to be remembered. And you’ve done that in your songs, haven’t you?”

  He stares at me for another long moment before nodding. “I guess I have.”

  “Then you should honor her by doing what she asked you to do.” I tilt my head as I look into his eyes. “You don’t have to forget her. You don’t have to forget any of it. But it was an accident, Pax. You have to let go of the guilt. And you have to let her go so we can have a life together.”

  “Where have you been?” He gives me the smallest of smiles as he looks down into my eyes. “Where have you been my whole life?”

  I give him a small shrug as I return his smile. “I don’t know. But I’m here now. We’re here now. Together.”

  Pax

  It always surprises me how much life can change overnight. It’s happened to me several times in my life—on that night with Kayla, then when Twisted Throne signed our first record deal, then when Sophia and I got married in Vegas, now nearly dying. One minute I think my life is going one direction, the next it’s going another. Sometimes it’s a good change, sometimes a bad one.

  This is one of the good ones.

  Not that I’d want to get shot again, of course. Fuck that shit. But somehow in the process of nearly dying, I figured out what’s really important. I figured out what I need to let go of.

  My first couple of days in the hospital after waking up are oddly freeing. Sophia never leaves my side—except for when I force her to go get herself some food—and other friends and family are regular visitors at my bedside. My mom is here constantly, talking my ear off with stories about everything I missed while I was out—now that I’m not going to die, she seems to think it’s okay to guilt me over the usual mom things, like missing her birthday and my sister’s big job promotion. My sisters all come by when they can, too, as do Mick and my bandmates. All except Charlie, who hasn’t had the guts to show his face since he made his confession.

  Honestly, after my first impulsive reaction to the news, I’ve calmed down a lot. Realized that, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t fucking matter who released the sex tape or why. It happened. Sophia and I are okay. Life goes on.

  Funny, how getting shot makes you way more fucking forgiving.

  Three days after I wake up, they finally allow me up out of the bed. I’m still not allowed to leave my room—and probably a good thing, since my legs are wobbly as shit—but at least I’m not confined to my bed anymore. I try to get Ma or Sophia to sneak me in some real clothes, but they both refuse to go against the hospital’s instructions, so I’m stuck in a crappy, paper-thin hospital gown, trying to keep my ass from hanging out.

  It’s on that day—in fact, right when Ma is helping me back to the bed after using the bathroom—that I get some royal visitors.

  It’s actually Sophia’s reaction to them that first lets me know they’re there. She’s sitting in her usual place next to my bed—I refuse to ever let her help me to the bathroom, even though she’s offered—but I hear her jump up with a surprised sound.

  I look up at her, then toward the door.

  Not one but two of her royal brothers are standing there. She told me that Nicholas stopped by several times while I was out, as did Leo—who always did seem like the most chill of the bunch—and William, who I haven’t met yet. I’m assuming that’s William in the doorway, since even though I don’t recognize him, the family resemblance is unmistakable. He’s standing next to the last member of her family I want to see—Andrew.

  Okay, maybe second-to-last. Because once they’ve given the room a once-over, the two brothers step aside to reveal yet another of Sophia’s relatives—her father.

  Fuck. I’m too drugged up for this shit. Not to mention that my ass is hanging out for the world to see, I can hardly stand upright on my own, and sometimes I still have trouble stringing full sentences together.

  Fortunately, Sophia takes the lead.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks them.

  The-one-who-I-think-is-William responds. “I told you Father wanted to come visit. We heard your husband has made a recovery.” He shoots a glance my way, and I swear there’s a touch of humor in his expression.

  Maybe this one isn’t so bad, I think. Especially compared to Andrew and His Royal Snootiness, both of whom are watching me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. What the fuck do they think I’ve done now?

  Ma nudges me toward the bed. “Why don’t you sit back down, honey?” she says.

  I realize I’m gripping her arm too tightly and try to loosen my hold.

  “I guess introductions are in order,” I say, trying to sound cheerful. “Ma, this is Sophia’s family.” I have no idea what the rules are for introducing royals to your average Californian woman, but when I open my mouth to speak, the-one-who-I-think-is-William jumps in.

  “We’ve met before, briefly,” he says to my mom. “I’m William.” He glances at me. “We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet, though.” He extends his hand, apparently not caring that I’m partially nude and being held upright by my mom. I give his hand a good shake, pleasantly surprised by him.

  “And this is my brother, Andrew,” William goes on, for Ma’s sake. “And our father, His Majesty, King Edmund of Montovia.”

  “Good to meet you all,” Ma says, helping me onto the bed. I don’t like being at a disadvantage among these people, but at least my ass is out of sight now.

  “You still haven’t explained why you’ve here,” Sophia says. She doesn’t sound angry, but she looks just as suspicious as the rest of them.

  This time it’s Andrew who speaks. “Your husband nearly died, Sophia. And you’ve spent the last couple of months away from home, obviously distraught and in need of support. What do you think family means?”

  Sophia still looks suspicious, and I don’t blame her. Something is clearly going on here.

  So I try to lighten the mood a little.

  “Well, there’s not a lot of room in here,” I say, “but come on in, make yourselves comfortable. You’re looking good, Your Majesty. I hope that means you’re doing better?”

  It’s probably the wrong thing to say, and the flash in the king’s eyes tells me he hasn’t forgotten what went down the last time we met. But he holds his temper in for now.

  “I’m in good health, as you can see,” he says, but he takes the chair Sophia offers. “Better than you, at any rate.”

/>   Did the king just…make a joke?

  I can’t help it—I burst out laughing. It hurts like hell, but there’s no stopping it.

  “Good one, Your Majesty,” I say, grinning. “You know, I think we may just end up being friends after all.”

  “Friends?” The king’s eyebrows rise, and I swear I see a little amusement in his face.

  “Maybe not friends.” I’m still chuckling. “But close enough.”

  I glance at Sophia, looking to see if she’s enjoying seeing us get along. But she still looks troubled.

  “Why are you really here?” she demands again. “You didn’t come all this way to take jabs at my husband.”

  Her father looks up at her, the amusement leaving his eyes.

  “No,” he says solemnly. “We didn’t. Perhaps you should sit down for this, Sophia.”

  Sophia

  I stare at my father for a long moment. “I think I prefer to stand.”

  His eyebrows rise. It isn’t like me to openly defy my father, even for something this small. He lets out a long breath, giving me a small shake of his head as he motions about the room. “Sit down, Daughter. Let us all sit.”

  As though he has some sort of royal magical power, the wave of his hand makes everyone take the chair nearest them.

  I’m still staring at my father, my gaze narrowed, as I slowly sit at the side of Pax’s bed. I take my husband’s hand in mine. I don’t realize how tightly I’m holding him until he gives my fingers a slight tug, trying to release my grip.

  I glance over at him, giving him a silent apology.

  My father clears his throat, making all eyes turn to him. “I’m glad all sides could be together for this occasion. It is much easier to negotiate with everyone present at the table—”

  “Is that the table?” Pax asks with a snicker, glancing at the small metal table that holds his juice. “Because I don’t see any other tables in here.”

  The icy glare from my father silences him in an instant.

  “Where is Mother?” I can’t help but ask—it would be nice to have someone on my side at the moment, not that I’m even certain why I need a side at all. “If this is so important, she should be here—”

  “Mother is with Victoria in Montovia,” Andrew interrupts. “I…” He gives out father a sidelong glance. “Apologies, Father. I did not mean to interrupt.”

  The king gives him a dismissive wave. “Had Sophia been in Montovia with her family, she already would be aware of the news.”

  “I was with my family, Father. As you well know.” I look over at Pax again, wrapping my other hand around his. “And this is where I’ll stay until he recovers.”

  “Your family is to have a new heir. Which you would know if you had been where you belong.” I can’t read the expression on his face—he doesn’t seem angry, but he certainly doesn’t seem happy.

  It takes me a moment to process what he’s said. “A new…heir?”

  “Victoria is with child.” Andrew’s lips may not be smiling, but his eyes could light up the room. “It is unfortunately very complicated.”

  My mouth falls open. Victoria is barren—there’s been an unspoken crisis in our country since she and Andrew married because of it.

  My father’s eyes shine for a brief moment. “It’s true. There is now a direct line for succession again—assuming all goes well with the pregnancy.” He shakes his head. “But that is not why we’re here today, Sophia.”

  “I…” My gaze slides to Andrew. “Congratulations. I mean that truly.”

  He almost smiles as he gives me a single nod.

  My father interrupts. “Now that your…husband has recovered from his injuries—”

  “I wouldn’t say I’ve recovered,” Pax interrupts with a chuckle. “I’m the one with my ass hanging out, after all.”

  William’s eyes look like they might pop from his head, while Andrew and my father don’t even react to Pax’s crass outburst.

  I give my husband’s hand another squeeze, trying to tell him without words to shut up. I have no idea what is going on here, but I know it has to be important if my father and brothers showed up in the flesh to discuss it.

  “Patrick.” Pax’s mother frowns at him. “Show some respect.”

  Pax gives her a slight shrug before turning his attention back to my father. “What is it, Your Highness? You’ve come back to collect your daughter?”

  “My father should be addressed as Your Majesty.” Andrew looks like he might come over and snap Pax’s neck.

  “Sorry, Andy. I’ll try harder next time.” Pax rolls his eyes. “And what about you, Willy? Got something to add about how I don’t measure up?”

  William cocks his head, looking at me.

  “I think what my husband is trying to say is that we’re all wondering why you’ve come all this way.” I lift my chin as I look over at my father. “And why it is you’ve decided to come now. When you couldn’t be bothered to show your support for me the other day when I was about to let him die.”

  My father’s gaze narrows ever so slightly. “Some of us have responsibilities elsewhere, Daughter. And if I’m not mistaken, your brother was here.”

  “Yes, Nicholas was here that day. And what about the rest of you? If any of you were about to die—if your wives were about to die—the entire family would have gathered about. Even me. Everyone would have—”

  My father lifts his hand. “Enough.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, Your High… Your Majesty.” Pax’s mother’s voice is so meek I can barely hear her over the whirring of Pax’s machines. “But Sophia’s right.” She gives a small shrug of her shoulders. “At least in my family, we all gather around for the important parts. We show we care by—”

  “We’re here now, are we not?” Andrew frowns at her. “And if you would listen to what His Majesty has to say, perhaps you would all stop being so argumentative.”

  My father gives Andrew a solemn nod. “Indeed. Now…” He makes another motion with his hand, obviously intended to silence the room. “It is true that we’ve come to share some… news.”

  “What sort of news?” I give my father a defiant glare. “Because if you—”

  “If you would listen for one moment Daughter, your questions would be answered.” My father gives me an annoyed shake of his head. “Andrew and I have been discussing—”

  “If you’re here to tell me about some archaic, bullshit law that should have been overturned centuries ago, you can leave now.” I stand, Pax’s hand still in mine. “I don’t want to hear it. And I’m willing to give up my title if you’re going to tell me you’re dragging me back to Montovia to have my marriage annulled.”

  “Sit down.” My father’s voice thunders through the room.

  As defiant as I feel, I do as he says at the sound of his voice, almost involuntarily.

  My father gives me an annoyed shake of his head. “As I was attempting to tell you, I’ve come to a decision that will affect you both.” His brow furrows. “And why, dear child, do you think I would have flown all this way to tell you your marriage is unlawful? I could have sent Stephan to do that.” He gives me a disappointed shake of his head. “We’ll discuss your disrespect at another time.”

  Andrew clears his throat, his gaze sliding between my father and me. “Father has a rather generous offer for you and your husband, Sophia.”

  “Indeed, I do.” My father’s expression softens a bit, and his lips tick into the slightest of smiles. “I’ve decided to be lenient with you, Sophia.”

  My gaze narrows. “How kind of you. Of course, I’ve been married for over two months—”

  “During most of which your new…spouse has been unconscious.” My father sets his jaw. “Montovia has been through enough these past few months. And you’ve put your family through enough, too, Sophia. Which is why I’ve come here to tell you how the next few months will unfold.”

  “Is that so?” I cross my arms over my chest, feeling almost like a petulant chil
d. “How fortunate that you’ve decided once again to dictate the terms of my life.”

  My father shakes his head. “Perhaps you should listen to my terms before you decide to defy them, Daughter. I have three conditions you must meet, and then I’ll be willing to recognize your marriage.” He lets out long breath. “First, you’ll have a proper wedding. In Montovia.”

  “I’m already married, Father. I hardly think—”

  “It’s not for you, Soph,” William interrupts. “It’s for the people.”

  “Precisely.” My father barely hides his annoyance. “You’ll have a proper royal celebration for our citizens. They deserve nothing less.”

  “Fine.” I lift my chin in defiance, though that particular term doesn’t seem particularly harsh. I’d always imagined I’d have a small celebration—perhaps not the large royal weddings my brother should have had, but a ceremony, nonetheless. It might actually be nice to remember some of my vows to Pax, after all. “What else?”

  “Second, your husband will give up his claim to any Montovian title.”

  “What?” I give him a violent shake of my head. “How is that fair, Father? You didn’t do that to Leopold or to Andrew. Victoria and Elle were both able to take their appropriate royal titles—”

  “This isn’t about Leopold or Andrew. This is about you.” My father’s glare could freeze the ocean. “My third and final term is this. As I’m still not fully convinced you’ve married for the right reasons, you’ll vow not to bring any children into this marriage until at least ten years have passed or you’ll be stripped of your title and barred from Montovia forever. And should you not agree to my terms, you’ll be stripped of your title and your inheritance immediately.”

  Pax

  This royal fuckwad definitely knows how to fuck up a family reunion, doesn’t he?

  That said, it could totally be worse—at least he’s open to accepting our marriage now. Yeah, his conditions suck—and threatening to disown Sophia if she doesn’t agree is a step too far—but it’s better than what I was expecting. Or maybe, yet again, it shows that getting shot makes you a lot more understanding and forgiving.

 

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