Royal Mistake: The Complete Series

by Ember Casey

  She smiles and tastes her bread again, finishing it off with a few bites. Without releasing her hand, I do the same.

  “Now,” I say, “why don’t we forget about everyone else for tonight and enjoy the festival?”

  She nods, and I lead her toward the main square. The music is getting louder and louder, and people cheer and hum along as they skip and dance their way through the streets.

  “Care to dance?” I ask her.

  “Okay,” she says, smiling beneath her mask.

  When we reach the main square, I pull her right out into the middle, where a number of couples are already swinging each other around in time to the vibrant melody. On the far end of the square, a small temporary stage has been erected, and a group of some of the finest musicians in Europe sway as they play a lively reel.

  I take both of Victoria’s hands and swing her out into the crowd, and then we’re moving among the other dancers, turning and spinning together. Somehow, we seem to know exactly how to move together. As we dance, the worry seems to leave her face. With every passing minute, her smile gets larger and larger, and something sparkles in her eyes.

  “What is it?” I ask her as I spin her around.

  “Nothing,” she says. “I was just thinking about how this is much nicer than the last time we danced.”

  I frown. “The last time?”

  “At the state dinner.” She looks at me pointedly before twirling beneath my outstretched arm.

  The state dinner. Memories of that night come flooding back, and my stomach clenches. I wasn’t exactly cordial to her that night. In fact, I was quite the opposite.

  “Victoria, I—”

  “Need to apologize? Why yes you do.” She stops right in front of me, looking up. “And I can think of a few other ways you might make it up to me.” She stands up on her toes and gives me a soft kiss on the tip of my nose.

  Someone bumps into me from behind—we shouldn’t have stopped in the middle of the dancers. But I don’t care. I take Victoria in my arms.

  “Name it,” I tell her huskily. “Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

  “And make it easy for you?” She grins. “That, Your Highness, would ruin all the fun.”

  Before I can stop her, she pulls out of my arms. A pair of dancers twirls toward us, but instead of moving back toward me, she steps away, letting them pass between us.

  “You want to make it up to me?” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “Come catch me. When you find me, I’ll tell you exactly what you can do.”

  Before I can fully register what she’s doing, she turns—and runs.

  In a flash, she disappears behind another pair of dancers. And then she’s in the crowd, a splash of blue in a sea of color.

  I try to run forward, then nearly collide with another couple. I avoid the collision, but when my eyes go back to where Victoria was, I no longer see any trace of her. She’s disappeared into the crowd.

  “Victoria!” I call.

  My shout draws the attention of a few nearby revelers, and I realize I must be more discreet if I’m going to remain anonymous.

  I shake my head. She knows exactly what she’s doing, the little minx. But if she wants to play this game, then I am more than willing to play along.

  I find myself grinning as I stride through the crowd. Yes, I will find her. And when I catch her, I won’t let her out of my arms all night.

  Victoria

  It’s pretty clear within a few moments that Andrew has lost me in the crowd. I stop running, instead taking my time to admire the many multi-colored costumes and the intricate displays all over the square.

  I’m not even sure where I’m going, but I somehow find my way to the same path Andrew and I had been on only a few days ago—the one right next to the riverbank. There are far fewer people here, though the area is still decorated as much as the more crowded parts of the town square. Twinkling white lights are twined around each tree and the path is illuminated with small lanterns every few feet.

  It truly feels like something from a fairy tale.

  I gaze out over the river, listening to it lap at the nearby shore.

  I could definitely learn to love this place. I’m already falling in love with it. I can only hope the people here will accept me as I am and not judge me too harshly for the things I’ve done. For the person I used to be.

  Something twists in my chest—guilt. A feeling I know all too well. How did I not see it before? How did I not understand that I helped to create the mess I find myself in now? When I had first come here, I had thought the Montovian laws preventing celebrity reporting were antiquated and unfair—a perversion of the freedoms I had grown so accustomed to. Part of me still thinks they are somewhat outdated and unfair, but the part being judged by the public understands precisely why they have those laws in place here. It’s not to keep people from knowing things about the family that rules—it’s to protect them from harm. From unfair criticism and judgment.

  There’s nothing I can do to make the people here not judge me—I’ve given them plenty of fodder already to have years of criticism for the things I’ve done and the choices I’ve made. And I hate to admit it, but part of the reason I want to win that fencing tournament so badly has more to do with winning the hearts of the people Andrew cares so deeply about and far less to do with winning back the royal scepter.

  And if I should lose… I suppose there’s little harm in trying. If I lose, I’ll only be laughed at behind my back all the more. It isn’t as though everyone in Montovia has their hopes pinned on me to win back their national symbol. After all, I’m a woman, and Montovia has never even had a women’s fencing team.

  I never saw myself as a leader in women’s rights, either, but maybe there are things I can do for this country. Hadn’t Andrew mentioned wanting me to start a local chapter for the Girl Scouts at one point? Maybe I can do something here—something that matters and makes a difference. Something more than writing tabloid stories about the royal family, not that there’s much chance of me being able to write those ever again.

  My thoughts are interrupted when I feel Andrew’s arms slide around my waist from behind. He pulls me against him and tips his head to my ear. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  I smile, turning to him to place a chaste kiss on his lips before I pull away. “It didn’t take you long to find me.”

  He walks to my side, pulling my hand into his and gazing out over the river with me. “What are you thinking about, standing here all alone, Victoria?” He turns to me with a grin. “How I might show you how truly sorry I am for the abominable way I treated you at the state dinner?”

  I chuckle and shake my head, turning back to look out over the water. “No, that’s not necessary. Though, I think I mentioned to you before how I used to fantasize about dancing with you.”

  “Did you?” He turns, pulling my hands into his so I’m facing him again. “I don’t believe I recall hearing such a thing. Because I do want to hear about all your fantasies, Victoria.”

  I smile. “Maybe it’s because I told you when we were still suffering from the trauma of our ordeal.”

  “Our…?” He pauses, looking into my eyes for a moment before his smile falls. “Yes, our ordeal. It’s amazing how long ago it seems now. Though, in many ways—”

  “It seems like only yesterday?”

  He nods. “Yes. Though, with you in my arms, I seem to forget everything else. Particularly that incident.” He places my hands on his shoulders and slides his arms around my waist to begin dancing with me. “I do believe I owe you a dance, however.”

  “I’m sure at the next state dinner—”

  “No, not at the next state dinner.” He leans forward, kissing my lips gently before pulling away again. “No, our dance together is long overdue.” He pulls me more tightly against him, and I rest my head against his chest, swaying in time to the music only we can hear.

  I close my eyes, listening to his heart as I press my ear to his chest. I
’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything close to this before—there’s no need for anything else. Everything about this moment is enough. He is enough.

  This has to be love. Everything is so warm and perfect and…enough.

  After a few minutes of pure peace, he pulls away just enough to look down into my eyes. He pulls my mask away from my face—I had forgotten it was even there—before pulling his own up and setting it on top of his head. His hand slides down to my ass as he dips his head to kiss me again—

  “There you are.” Sophia’s voice rings over my shoulder. She sounds out of breath and hurries up behind us. “My God…I’ve been…looking everywhere…” She’s doubled over, her outstretched hand on her brother’s arm. “I…I…”

  Andrew turns to face her. “Sophia, what is it?”

  “I…” She stands and pulls her mask away from her face. Even in the dim light, I can see the puffiness around her eyes. “I’ve been searching for you. You…you didn’t answer…you didn’t answer your mobile.”

  He stares at her for a second. “I didn’t bring my mobile tonight. I…I didn’t think I would need it…” He pauses. “What’s going on, Sophia? Is it Father? What’s happened?”

  She shakes her head. “It’s not Father. It’s…it’s Nicholas. You need to come quickly.” She motions toward the main square. “He…he’s…” She heaves another breath. “You need to hurry. Before he kills someone.”

  Andrew releases me from his grasp and takes Sophia’s hand in his as they hurry back to the crowd. Whatever has happened, he seems to have forgotten me completely—he doesn’t even turn to see if I’m there with him. I follow the two of them for a time, but quickly lose them in the crowded square.

  I stop in the middle of everything, glancing around me, trying to locate them among the throng of people. A thought floats through my head—I try to push it away, but it’s the same one I’ve had the entire time I’ve known Andrew. I’ll never be enough for him. I’m sure whatever is going on with his family is important—I have no doubt that Sophia really does need him. And I know I’m being selfish even worrying about it, wondering why he’s willing to turn away from me—forget I exist—at the drop of a hat.

  I shouldn’t have run from him tonight, even though it was only for fun. I shouldn’t have even attempted to play a game with him like this one. And if I am going to be with Andrew—if I am going to learn to live in his royal world—I suppose I have to learn that I’ll always be second to his family. To his country. To the people of Montovia. I’m not really sure where I even fit on the list when I think about it, but it probably isn’t second.

  “Victoria?” Elle walks up to me, taking my elbow and almost pulling me over to a quiet corner nearby. “Why do you have your mask off?”

  I glance upward, not that I can see anything. The gorgeous mask Sophia had made me is so lightweight, it’s hard to remember it’s there. And Andrew had set it on top of my head before he left me again.

  She smiles at me. “It’s not like you have to wear it or anything. But a couple of people have already recognized me, even with the damned thing on. I am never going to understand what the fascination is.”

  “I don’t think I will, either.”

  She nods and rubs her belly—it almost looks like she’s doing it subconsciously. “I’d really like to leave Montovia. Or at least live outside the palace. Leo and I don’t really have anything here—”

  My face burns as hot as the twisting in my chest, but I interrupt anyway. “Except that your baby is going to need to learn how to be a proper prince or princess.”

  “Oh, I know.” She nods, almost to herself. “And Leo and I talked about it. We both think it’s time for some new laws. The people here in Montovia aren’t backward, Victoria. They would support a more modern system of ruling, especially…under the circumstances.”

  “The circumstances…of me not being able to have a child?”

  She nods again. “Exactly. I think if we let the people have a voice in the matter, they’d say the old ways of doing things aren’t that important. That some traditions are meant to be broken.”

  “That’s an…interesting perspective.” I force a smile. “I think I’m going to head back to the palace. I…I’m getting a migraine, I think.” What she’s saying is the complete opposite of what I’ve heard Andrew saying since the day I met him. Tradition is the most important thing to him and his family. And to even suggest otherwise…

  Her brow furrows with concern. “Do you want me to find you one of those carriages? I’m not even sure how they call for them, but—”

  “No, I’d rather walk. I think the cold air will do me some good.” I pull my cape a little tighter around my shoulders. “I’ll probably see you in the morning. And if you see Andrew, tell him I’ll see him tomorrow, too.”

  She gives me a confused nod as I walk away, back toward the riverbank to cross the bridge back up to the palace.

  I don’t even know what happened, I think as I trudge back up long road to the palace. The night started off like a fairytale and now…

  Now I don’t know what it is.

  Andrew

  We’ve gone some blocks before I realize, with a start, that Victoria is no longer behind me.

  I spin around, looking for her dark blue gown among the bright colors all around us.

  “Victoria!” I call above the noise. But my shout is lost beneath the music and laughter and other sounds of the festival.

  I should have grabbed her hand. I should have made sure she was there…

  I turn, ready to dash back through the crowd in search of her. But before I can move, I feel a hand on my arm—Sophia’s hand.

  “Over here,” she says breathlessly. “Hurry.”

  I start to argue with her, to insist I must find Victoria first, but then I see it—beyond her shoulder, a crowd has formed, circling a group of figures. I know immediately that Nicholas is among them.

  A shout goes up among the crowd—then a gasp. There’s no time to hesitate. I charge forward, pushing through the gathered throng.

  There are five people within the circle of the crowd. On one side stands my brother Nicholas. His mask is off and his cheeks are flushed—but whether that’s from drink or from exertion, I couldn’t say. Either way, he looks furious. On the other side of the circle stands Prince Reginald—and three of his friends. One of them is rubbing his lip—which sports a bright crimson streak of blood—and when I look back at Nicholas, I see a matching bloodstain on his fist.

  Fool. You’ve picked a fight with not one but four drunken fools! Have you no sense?

  Even as I think the words, though, I know Nicholas would never have picked a fight with these bastards—no, I have every confidence that Prince Reginald started this. Nicholas is far from hot-headed—but when he does lose his temper, everyone around him would do well to watch out.

  “Excuse me.” I push through the people in front of me, stepping out into the circle. “What is the meaning of this?”

  All eyes turn to me. I realize too late that my mask is still pushed up on my head, but I suppose it doesn’t matter at this point—the crowd would probably have recognized me by my actions either way.

  I stride into the middle of the circle, between Nicholas and Reginald. “This is the Festival. This isn’t the place for schoolyard tussles.”

  “You didn’t hear what he said,” Nicholas says through clenched teeth. He’s speaking low so the crowd won’t hear him, but his words must reach Reginald’s ears, because the bastard lets out a laugh.

  “I’ve said nothing out of line,” Reginald claims with a casual flick of his hand. “You Montovian princes get offended so easily.”

  “He said things about our father,” Nicholas says.

  Reginald laughs. “A bunch of daddy’s boys, the whole lot of you.” His friends laugh as well, even the one still holding his jaw.

  Nicholas’s eyes are hard as steel. “He was commenting on our father’s ‘impending death.’”

&
nbsp; It should be expected to hear a few insults from Reginald, but this is low, even for him. Slowly, I turn to fully face him.

  “Fine manners,” I say, trying to hold back the anger suddenly rolling through me. “You’d think someone of your status would have more class than to comment on our father’s health while standing on Montovian soil. I’d advise you to remember your manners while enjoying another country’s hospitality.” And then, since I know the surrounding crowd has probably picked up on some of our conversation, I raise my voice so they can hear. “As I announced in my last press conference, my father is doing well and is expected to make a full recovery. While it is true that his health is a concern, the worst is past. He will be your king for many years to come.”

  There’s a small cheer from the surrounding crowd as people cry out their support for my father.

  Reginald, however, seems unfazed. In fact, his lips have curled into a smirk.

  “Oh, I hope for the sake of Montovia that he lives for many, many years,” he says. “Because God help them when you ascend to the throne. These last few months you’ve become even more of a joke than your brother Leopold.”

  My fingers involuntarily curl into a fist. Keep your head, I tell myself. He’s purposefully trying to goad you.

  “That’s enough,” I say evenly. “This is a celebration. Let’s all go our separate ways and forget this ever happened.” To the crowd I say, “Please, go and enjoy the Festival.”

  But Reginald isn’t done. “You insult and humiliate my sister on live television, and yet you can’t take even the slightest bit of constructive criticism. I’m only trying to be helpful, Andrew. You’ve become quite reckless recently. Is it because of that woman?” He looks over my shoulder, but thank goodness Victoria isn’t anywhere to be found. “I must admit, I’m a little shocked to see what she’s done to you. You used to fight your own battles, but now? Good God, you’re having her go up against me in the tournament rather than facing me yourself.” Another one of his sharp laughs cuts through the air. “Do your people know you’re such a coward?”