Royal Rebel: A Royal Romance (The Haldonia Monarchy Book 1)

by Laramie Briscoe

  “Then you’ll learn them Amelia. You’re a great judge of character, and you’re going to be an asset to the Monarchy. Don’t second-guess yourself. I know it’s nerve-wracking but you’ll be fine. There’s never been a Queen like you, and I for one, can’t wait.”

  Fine. I’ve never hated a word so much in my life. I don’t want to be just fine. I want to thrive. To make a family I can be proud of, to make a difference in how the rest of the world views our country. Instead, I give her a weak smile, slightly frustrated she isn’t seeing this like I am. “I know I will.”

  “Let’s get this off of you so we can make the last few adjustments before we head back. Do you know how you’re going to wear your hair?”

  “I’ve thought about it a lot. I’m thinking half up and half down.” Tristan likes my hair up, but custom says I wear some of it down.

  “Have you picked which tiara you’re going to wear?”

  “No.” I hold up my arms so that I can be taken out of the dress. “I don’t want to pick it without seeing them. Something tells me I’ll have a feeling when I see the right one.”

  Shannon hums in agreement as she zips my dress up in a protective case. “That’s a good idea. I don’t know how you’re okay with wearing something that expensive though. I would more than likely screw it up by dropping it.”

  “I’m terrified,” I admit. “This will be the one time in my life when I have butter fingers and I’m going to ruin one of the priceless treasures of Haldonia. The tabloids will give me a dreadful name. One that rhymes, and I’ll never be able to look at myself in the mirror again.”

  We look at each other before cracking up. It’s exactly what I need to make the moment less serious.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” she asks, helping me step out of the skirt.

  “Would you?”

  “I mean I’ll do whatever you ask me to, Your Highness.”

  “Stop.” I wave her off. “You know you’re my friend.”

  “I know, but there are still customs I must abide by. Meaning, I can’t go where you don’t ask me to.”

  I grab her hand in mine. “Please come with me. I have this horrible feeling once we get to the Palace things are going to change, Shannon, and I’m not sure if they’re going to change for the better.”

  “Did you get your tux situated?” I ask Tristan later on as we sit down for our evening meal.

  “I did.” He grins, the slight beard covering his face giving him an illusion of it being slightly sinister. “Did you get your dress situated?”

  I grin back at him. “I did.”

  Deciding to flirt with him a little, I lean in, over my plate so that we’re in whispering distance of one another.

  “The top is so tight I don’t have to wear underthings.”

  He groans deep in his throat. “You tell me these things at the most inopportune of times.”

  I bite my lip, giving him a wink. “I know.”

  “I’m convinced you want to make me walk around in a state of uncomfortableness twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

  “Not me.” I put a hand to my chest.

  “Yes, you.”

  Our exchange is halted when Parker comes into the room. “My apologies, but I just wanted to let you know you’ll see many people around the area in the coming days. We’re preparing to move you back to the Palace. Which means we’re taking extra precautions. You were to move at the beginning of next week, but I’d like you both to be ready to go tomorrow.”

  My world slightly comes crashing down. I wasn’t prepared to go back this soon. It’s too soon, honestly. I enjoy my time here, and I’m not ready for it to change. I know without a doubt it will, as soon as we go back.

  “Is there a problem?” Tristan asks, looking at his friend. These two don’t lie to each other, but I can tell Parker isn’t being completely truthful when he says. “Nothing we haven’t faced before.”

  Which makes me wonder exactly what we’re facing. When Parker leaves I look at Tristan.

  “I don’t like being kept in the dark.”

  He throws his napkin on the table. “Neither do I, Lia, but we have to trust Parker knows what he’s doing. I trust him with my life, and even more so I trust him with yours.”

  It’s unspoken I should leave well enough alone. It’s hard, but I realize this is the first of many times I’ll be expected to sit back and believe other people know what’s best for me. And honestly, that’s not something I can do.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tristan

  “Why are you sitting in here with no lights on? Is this about the slight argument we had?”

  I glance over to the entrance of my study, seeing Lia standing there. She’s backlit by the light in the hallway. It’s giving her an ethereal glow, and I can’t help but give her a smile. She’ll learn the way of things soon, especially when we’re dropped into the middle of the frying pan, so to speak.

  “No.” I shake my head. “You have a right to know what’s going on, but the fact is, it makes us safer not to. Parker keeps things from us for our own good. I know you don’t understand that now, but you will. Especially with us going back to town. That’s why I’m sitting here in the dark. I’m thinking about how we have to go back to the real world.”

  She groans, and I know she hates it as much as I do. The real world is such a shitty place to be. If given a choice, I would choose to be here any day of the week. I motion for her to come in, she does, closing the door behind her. As she approaches, there’s a slight darkness to her eyes. Maybe now’s the time for making up, since we just had a small argument. Make-up sex. Something I’ve never done before. All the other women either left, or I ghosted on them.

  No one has ever stuck around after the first fight. Me or them.

  “Do you have plans for me?” I smirk, watching as she walks closer.

  She almost glides across the room, so different than the woman I first met. There’s now an air of confidence around her, almost as if she knows exactly how much she affects me. It’s given her color to her cheeks, a sleekness to her body, and a knowing glint in her eyes.

  I’ve been here for a few hours, drinking Scotch and enjoying the fire. Trying to remind myself this woman is to be my wife, I can’t stay mad at her for long, and I have to understand where she’s coming from. Never go to bed angry is the one takeaway I’ve gotten since we’ve been engaged. I was working myself up to follow that advice. This is my favorite leather couch in the entire place, and I’m going to miss it when we leave.

  “Are you drunk?” She giggles, her eyebrows raised.

  I think about what she’s asked. “Wouldn’t say drunk, per se, but I feel better than I should.”

  “Do you?” She walks slowly toward me.

  “Yeah.” I take a sip of my Scotch, shaking the cubes of ice in it. “There are a million things I should be doing right now, and this isn’t one of them. My to-do list is a mile long.”

  She has a seat next to me, I sit the Scotch down, almost sure I won’t be drinking it heavily now. “Mine is too, Tris. I have to contact the charities I’ve decided to work with, but I’d rather be here with you. When we get back to the Palace there will be plenty of time for us to do what we should be doing. Being here, we can do what we want to do.”

  There’s a spark in her brown eyes, one I’ve seen before, and one that makes me sit slightly up and take notice. It’s a touch of desire and a handful of passion. It’s one she gives me when she’s feeling sure of herself, and honest with what she wants. If asked what’s on her mind, I would say getting naked with me, and I’m all for that.

  “Is that right, my Queen?”

  She laughs, throwing her head back, exposing her throat to me. “I’m not your Queen yet.”

  I scoot closer, so we’re touching. “You’ve always been my Queen.”

  Her plump bottom lip goes between her teeth. “Have I?”

  Realizing this might be one of the last times we can do somethin
g just for us, I take this opportunity for what it is. Leaning in, I cup her jaw in my hand. “Since I met you, Lia.”

  The kiss is a slow seduction. One I’ve only ever had with her. I love the quick fall into passion, but taking our time is so much better. It allows me to savor her taste, feel her hands upon me, to mold her body into how I want it to be over me, or under mine. Our lips meet, our tongues mesh, we share breath as I ease her up and over my lap. Her thighs straddle me easily. This is where she belongs. In my arms, across my body.

  We chase each other, not wanting to end the kiss. It isn’t until neither one of us can breathe that we break apart. We pant, glancing at one another. My hands immediately go the hem of Amelia’s shirt, pulling it up and over. Off her body in one smooth motion. The bra she wears is something made of my wet dreams. Gray and black, with lace. It’s every damn thing I love about her femininity, but also leaves much to the imagination.

  Reaching down, I push the lace edge of her bra down, exposing her to my gaze. The flesh puckers; even though I have the fire going the room is still slightly cool, evidenced by her reaction. When her nipples harden, my cock punches at the fly of my pants, begging to get out. The way my body reacts to her, surprises me each and every time. She could lead me around by my cock and I would be perfectly happy.

  My eyes flicker up to hers. I love the way hers are so expressive as she looks down at me. “You’re beautiful,” I whisper. The words seem so hollow, like they aren’t enough to explain how much she means to me.

  “You’re handsome,” she whispers back.

  Dipping my finger into my Scotch, I do something I’ve wanted to do for a while. I lift it out, painting her nipple with the fluid, before leaning forward and taking it into my mouth. Lia moans deep in her throat, making a noise I’ve never heard before. One that makes me hard, and I want to hear again. Pulling my lips back from her peak, I shift my eyes up, whispering. “You like that?”

  Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging me back to where I was. “Mmm hmmm,” she breathes, her chest heaving. “Do it again.” Her voice is soft, her eyes are closed. Almost as if she can’t make the demand while looking at me.

  I’m nothing if not a follower of requests. I do the same thing again, this time she squirms against my lap, knocking against my hard on. A groan is ripped from my throat, I want nothing more than to reach down, pull it out, and rub flesh against flesh, but this is about her. If anyone had to describe me before this moment, they would say I’m a selfish bastard. For her, though? For her I’ll give everything. I’ll give it all to make sure she feels good. Her feeling good is all I live for in this moment. Finally this only child has learned to share.

  “Tristan.” Her voice is breathless, full of desire and passion.

  “Lia?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  With all the strength I have, I put the glass of Scotch down, wrap my arms around her, and turn us over on the couch before situating myself between her thighs. This. This right here. It’s my favorite place to be. In the cradle of her thighs I feel at home. A home like I’ve never known before. She welcomes me the way I need to be welcomed. With open arms and trust. It’s the trust no one else has been able to give me. Everyone thinks I’m after something, or watching what others are doing so I can report back to my father. That’s not it, though. It’s never been it. I’ve always been just me, and she accepts it. She accepts me for me, and that is the greatest love of all.

  She’s thrusting into me, and I’m grinding into her. We’re fighting each other’s hands as we try to get rid of our clothing. It’s all some hazy, lazy dream sequence in my head as I finally seat myself home inside her. We both groan, my fingers tangle with hers lifting them up and over her head. We’re splayed out against each other, every single part of our bodies touching as we slip and slide. Sweat coating us, making it easier for us to glide.

  I’m taking this all in, experiencing every moment, breathing her in as we thrust against each other. Some people are never lucky enough to have this kind of connection in their lives, and here I am. This woman was chosen for me, was destined to be mine from the beginning of time. How much luckier can I get? I don’t need to be lucky anymore, not with her at my side.

  We’re not in a rush, and this time, it’s different. So much more different than it’s ever been before. I feel like so much of our lives is rushing toward a conclusion. The marriage, the monarchy. We haven’t had time to experience things on our own, we haven’t been able to enjoy as much as we should have been. This, this moment, as I grip her fingers with mine. This is ours.

  No one else can touch it.

  Chapter Thirty

  Amelia

  My heart is pounding, my stomach is turning, and my hands are shaking. Even more than they were the day I met Tristan; if that’s even possible. At the time I hadn’t thought it was, but I’m proving myself wrong.

  Tristan reaches over, grabbing my hand in his. “My palms are sweaty,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t let go, but also kind of not wanting him to grab my hand. Aren’t sweaty palms gross?

  He moves so his mouth is tilted toward my ear. “Why are you whispering? It’s just us in this back seat.”

  But my eyes are watching the crowded streets around us as we make our way to the Palace. This crowd looks even bigger than the one who gathered when we announced our engagement. I can’t tell how deeply the people are standing, but I’m assuming it’s three to four people deep. “You’re wrong.” I nod to the crowds. “It’s us and them.”

  Part of me doesn’t want to speak with my face toward the window. I’m afraid someone will read my lips and presume to know what’s going on in our lives. After the engagement, I saw articles from lip reader’s interpreting what we said, but without knowing what we were speaking about, it all seemed random. Or worse yet, it seemed like we were short with one another. Which wasn’t at all the case. Something will inevitably be taken out of context and it could brand either of us, or just one of us as ungrateful. It could turn the tide of the people away from us, and then where would we be? It’s a lot of pressure, especially for two people who aren’t even thirty yet.

  “No.” He reaches up, grabbing my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “It’s always just us, Lia.”

  I don’t argue, but even I know it’s not the truth. My whole life I’ve watched the Royal family on the periphery and there’s no doubt in my mind - the people always have an opinion. Whether it’s good or bad, they always have one. It’s our job to make sure the opinion for us is a good one.

  But I lie.

  “Okay.” I nod, smiling slightly.

  I wonder if he can tell I’m not being truthful. Then I worry this isn’t a good way to start off a marriage. My conscience reminds me this isn’t a typical marriage. There might always be things he won’t be able to tell me, so what if I don’t tell him everything?

  But even thinking it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

  Slightly shaking my head, I look back out at the crowd that’s gathered for us. Doing what I’m supposed to - putting a huge smile on my face and waving back at them - helps to alleviate some of those thoughts. Instead of thinking about everything I can’t control, I decide to think about the things I can. Shannon’s words come back to me. Keep the smile on your face, wave with elegance, don’t turn the elbow too much, don’t give a weird face that someone will be able to use in a tabloid. Keep my shoulders back, look down when we pass members of the military. There are so many rules, I’m not even sure how I manage to keep them straight, but I do.

  After what seems like a million years, we pull into the parking area of the Palace.

  “Don’t let Father intimidate you,” he tells me before we get out. “This is our home now, he’ll be living at his summer home full-time moving forward.”

  “Is that near where we were?” I question, not sure how these family dynamics work.

  “No.” His normally relaxed face isn’t there any longer. “He and I
don’t get along like we used to. It’s on the other side of Haldonia. The west side. Any luck and we won’t have to deal with him after the wedding.”

  Just by the way he says the words, I can figure out that’s what Tristan’s hoping for. It’s not like I’ve never met him before, but being here with Tristan, it feels differently. Instead of feeling like someone whose about to get married, I feel like a child who’s worried they’re going to disappoint their parent. I don’t feel like an adult at all. I feel like a fraud.

  “This way.” Shannon helps me out of the car.

  I’m so excited to see a friend, I grip her hand in mine, hanging on for dear life. The familiarity of her is enough to almost bring tears to my eyes.

  “You’re doing great,” she encourages me. “You’re going to go in, meet with a few dignitaries, and then you’ll be done until tonight. You’ve got this.”

  Tonight. I let a slow breath out.

  Tonight we get introduced for real.

  The engagement was small compared to what this will be like. I need a drink, but I know that doesn’t set a good precedence.

  “Father.”

  The tone he uses isn’t one I’ve heard from him before. Usually Tristan is open, no matter who he’s speaking with. He’s the type of person who has nothing to hide, no matter who he is. But his tone changes when he speaks to his father. It’s apparent, at least to me, he’s closing himself off to the man standing in front of us. Doesn’t want to give him a chance to hurt him. Seeing him close off is almost devastating to me, because he’s such an open and giving person.

  “Tristan.” He shakes his son’s hand.

  It’s so cold. Colder than I’ve ever seen with the man who will be my husband. I feel as if I’m hearing and seeing an entirely different person.

  It makes me wonder how their relationship was before his mom passed away. Were they close? Have they not been able to find their way back to each other? Is my job to be the one to help them bridge the gap?