Christmas at the Palace

by Jeevani Charika

  He’d mentioned the rules before.

  ‘Tell me about them – these rules.’

  ‘Um . . . let’s see. Well, I don’t have as many rules as my sisters, obviously, because I’m a bloke. Helena, my older big sister, she’s the second in line to the throne, so she has a crap ton of rules to follow. She’s very good about them, actually. Never knowingly broken a rule in her life. Takes after our dad. But then, he’s the heir, so maybe it’s an heir thing. Anyway. She has a lot of rules. Her husband was on the shortlist chosen for her. She’s fond of him and he’s a nice enough chap, so that’s all good.’

  ‘Chosen shortlist? Like an arranged marriage?’

  ‘I suppose, in a manner of speaking. She could have chosen someone else, but like I said, Helena’s fairly old school in some ways.’

  Kumari pulled a face. Most people thought ‘arranged’ meant forced. She knew that it meant a parent-sanctioned shortlisting service. She’d never had an arranged marriage suggested to her. Partly because she’d met Shane when she was nineteen and got engaged by twenty, but also because her parents themselves had eloped to be together, so they couldn’t exactly suggest it.

  ‘My other big sister, Ophelia, she has similar rules, but people are slightly less bothered, especially now that Hel’s got kids and Ophelia isn’t likely to succeed to the throne.’ He smiled. ‘Ophelia’s pretty daring, compared to Helena.’

  Ophelia was the one with the fuchsia coat, Kumari remembered. Lucy liked her better than Helena. ‘And you?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, like I said, I’m a bloke. That gives me far more freedom in many respects. And being the youngest means I can get away with misbehaving a bit and blaming it on youthful high jinks. Also, I’m only sixth in line, so people don’t much care who I date or live with, but I do need my grandmother’s permission to get married.’

  Kumari squeezed his hand. ‘I don’t really fit in to your rules, do I?’

  ‘I don’t know, in all honesty.’

  ‘I’m not an aristocrat. I have no power. I’m not rich. I’m not well connected. I’m divorced. I’m not a Christian. I’m not even white,’ she said. ‘There is no way your family is going to approve of me.’

  When he said nothing, she said, ‘And don’t even think about suggesting I be your concubine, or whatever.’

  He laughed. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’

  ‘Good. Because . . . I may not be from money, but my parents gave me everything to get me where I am today and we have our pride.’ To her surprise, her voice cracked. She had barely given a thought to her parents until now. They would be totally out of their depth with this.

  When she had first introduced them to Shane, they had worried about everything, over and over. Would he be good to her? Would he support her career? Would two careers be conducive to having kids? With Shane having one English parent and one parent from India, would any kids have to straddle three cultures and end up not fitting in anywhere? How often would they get to see her? Would he take her away from them? And when things went wrong with Shane, she had gone home to be fed and hugged and looked after until she felt better.

  What would they make of Ben? A guy who was trained to kill people, whose job was a bit like being a celebrity, one who supported a lot of good causes, admittedly, but still . . .

  ‘Hey, come here.’ He tugged her to her feet and pulled her to him, so that she was sitting sideways across his lap.

  ‘This is all new for me too,’ he said. ‘I admit, in the past, my family wouldn’t have even considered this to be a plausible match. But now . . . nowadays things are different. Everyone has to modernise a bit. The royal institution—’

  ‘You mean your family.’

  ‘No. I mean the institution. We may embody the institution, but we’re still people,’ he said, his voice more severe than she’d ever heard before. ‘The royal institution has to modernise, but we also have to tread a fine line with tradition. That’s not easy.’

  She ran the words through her head again. ‘That’s a good speech, but what does it actually mean?’

  ‘It means, it’s complicated.’

  ‘Doesn’t it just boil down to the queen giving her permission?’

  Ben laughed and she felt the urge to snuggle in closer to the heart of him. ‘In some matters, yes. In others there are rules that even the queen has to keep to. Most of the rules and traditions are there for a reason.’

  Shane had asked her dad’s permission to marry her. Back then, when it was her first marriage, it had been a big deal. Her parents had been most concerned that she married well, with very low risk of her marriage breaking down. They had been impressed by Shane, with his charm and his secure career. But the marriage had broken down anyway. So her parents’ judgement wasn’t any better than hers. ‘I’m pretty sure the only person in my family who needs to be impressed is me,’she said, almost to herself.

  He kissed her shoulder. ‘And how am I doing, impressing you?’

  ‘It’s early days yet,’ she said. Which was a good point. She had only known Ben for a short time and she was falling for him. But you always thought you were in love at the start of a relationship, didn’t you? It was only weeks later that you realised you’d mistaken arrogant for decisive and careless for laid-back. She tightened her arms around him, as though she could hold on to these days of innocence by sheer force of will.

  ‘Kumari,’ he said, ‘I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I’ve never felt anything so right before.’

  She moved her head so that she could look at his face. No matter what her doubts were about the future, she couldn’t doubt how she was feeling now. This man, with his sparkling blue eyes and laugh that belonged to a giant, made her feel like a queen. And when she lay her head back against his shoulder and breathed him in, she felt like she’d come home.

  ‘I’m not given to huge declarations of affection,’ he said. ‘But I think we have something here. Something worth giving time to.’

  Unexpected tears prickled in her eyes. She nodded.

  For a moment they held each other in silence. No words were necessary.

  Finally, Kumari said, ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I think we should see each other again, but . . . quietly. Under the radar. I need to prepare a few people.’

  Kumari gave a little snort. ‘For the fact that you’re going out with someone who’s the wrong colour?’

  ‘It’s more complicated than that.’ There was another intense silence.

  ‘Are you still OK?’ he said. ‘It’s not going to be the easiest thing to do. We’d have to fit around your work and mine, and try to meet without anyone seeing us.’

  ‘The alternative is not seeing you at all,’ she said. Even after such a short time, she knew she would hate not being with him. ‘So, I’m OK. Let’s do this.’

  ‘Excellent.’ He squeezed her to him. ‘That’s what I was hoping you’d say.’

  *

  The remaining days in Namibia passed in a daze. They never made it out to see the birds or to go horse riding. Instead, they went for walks, always trailed at a distance by Dave and a colleague. They ate meals by the light of hurricane lamps and sat out in the dark, spotting constellations in the sky.

  At night, they lay in bed and listened to the crickets and bats. And they talked. And talked. By the time they thanked the staff at the camp and set off for the long journey back home, Kumari felt they were so steeped in each other that she could barely tell where she ended and Ben began. She felt like she’d known him all her life.

  *

  They went up to Kumari’s flat because Ben insisted on walking her to the door. Dave went ahead, radiating alertness like a leopard on the hunt. Kumari was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. Dave stood to one side, so that she could put her key in the lock and let them in.

  Lucy’s coat was on the hook. Kumari put a finger to her lips. Ben crept in and put his hands on her waist. ‘Goodnight, gorgeous.’ />
  She turned in his arms. ‘Thank you for a wonderful few days.’

  ‘It was my pleasure.’ He kissed her. ‘I’d better go.’ But he didn’t release his hold on her.

  She stroked the side of his face gently. ‘You’ll have to actually leave, you know.’

  He gave a mock groan. ‘I know. I don’t want to.’ He kissed her again.

  Someone turned on the light. ‘You’re back. How was—?’

  Kumari turned to see Lucy, in her scratty pyjama shorts, with her hair stuck up on end, standing in her doorway, her mouth an ‘O’.

  ‘Oh,’ Lucy said, recovering. ‘Hello.’

  Ben glanced quickly at Kumari and turned to her housemate. Kumari could almost see the transition as relaxed-on-holiday Ben turned into Prince Benedict. For a second she wondered if they could get away with Lucy thinking he was a regular guy.

  He smiled.

  Lucy squeaked. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Nope. There was no way Lucy didn’t recognise Ben.

  ‘Hi, I’m Ben.’ He offered her his hand to shake. Lucy squeaked again and curtsied.

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ said Ben, a little sharply.

  A small sound made Kumari look at the door. Dave had miraculously appeared inside the flat. Lucy didn’t seem to have noticed, she was too busy staring at Ben.

  Ben looked at Kumari. She understood and stepped up next to him. ‘Ben, this is Lucy. She’s my flatmate.’

  ‘Lovely to meet you,’ Ben said smoothly, as though they were meeting socially.

  Lucy squeaked, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Um . . . look, Lucy. It’s quite important that you don’t tell anyone that you saw me here,’ said Ben. ‘Is that OK?’

  Lucy nodded so hard her hair vibrated.

  ‘Thank you. I really appreciate it.’ Ben looked at Kumari. ‘I’ll see you later, Kumari.’

  She nodded, suddenly self-conscious. ‘Bye.’

  The two men left, Dave checking in front and Ben following as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

  She locked the door behind them. Lucy still hadn’t said anything. Kumari turned slowly. Lucy seemed to unfreeze.

  ‘You . . . you’re going out with Prince freaking Benedict!’

  Nothing on earth could have stopped the grin that spread on Kumari’s face.

  Lucy puffed out her cheeks. ‘Prince Benedict was in my house.’ She looked down at herself. ‘And he saw me dressed like this?!’ She clapped her hands to her head. ‘I want to die.’

  Kumari laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Ha. Easy for you to say. He hasn’t seen you in your horrible pyjamas.’

  Except he had. Admittedly, they were her nice, silky PJs. And they hadn’t stayed on very long.

  Lucy rubbed her eyes. ‘I have so many questions.’

  ‘Maybe we should wait until morning to answer them . . .’ Kumari yawned, which set Lucy yawning too.

  ‘OK,’ said Lucy. ‘But I’m waking you up early tomorrow so that you can tell me everything before I have to go to work.’

  Kumari yawned again, suddenly exhausted. ‘Deal.’

  Chapter 7

  Pinnacle News

  Prince Benedict shoots to win

  Prince Benedict watched a young basketball team train yesterday. The charity Shoot for Change helps young amputees regain their sense of independence by immersing themselves in a team sport. The thirty-two-year-old prince, who was looking tanned after a recent holiday, had a go on the court with the team and said it was a delight to be outshone by the youngsters.

  When asked about his love life, the playboy prince, who has not been in a serious relationship since he was twenty-seven, laughed and joked that he was about as successful there as he is on the court.

  Photo caption: Near miss. The young players commiserate with the prince when he misses his shot.

  ‘I didn’t dream that, did I? He was here?’ said Lucy.

  Kumari had just walked out of her room. Lucy pushed a mug of coffee across to her. Kumari grasped it gratefully.

  ‘Yes. He was here.’

  ‘No wonder you didn’t want to tell me where you were going.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lucy. I did want to. But it has to be a secret. For now, at least. Ben has to . . . do some groundwork before anyone can know about it.’

  ‘Why, exactly?’

  Kumari looked at Lucy. ‘Well, I’m not exactly princess material, am I?’

  Lucy shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not.’

  ‘How many reasons would you like?’ She listed the same reasons she’d given Ben, counting them off on her fingers. ‘I’m not an aristocrat. I’m not well connected. I’m divorced. I’m not a Christian. I’m not even white.’

  ‘In this day and age, though, are any of those going to be a problem?’

  ‘Yes. Of course they are. Can you imagine what would happen if the press finds out?’

  ‘What does . . . he . . . think about it?’

  ‘Ben,’ Kumari said pointedly. ‘Ben thinks that things could be difficult, but he’s willing to try and so am I.’

  ‘He’s got very little risk,’ said Lucy. ‘If it all goes wrong, he can always claim playboy prince high jinks. You, on the other hand . . .’

  ‘I know,’ said Kumari. ‘I know.’

  ‘When are you going to tell your mum?’

  ‘Not sure. You can’t say anything. To anyone. You understand how important that is, right?’

  ‘What do you take me for? Of course I won’t.’ Lucy rolled her eyes.

  ‘Sorry. No. Of course you won’t.’

  Lucy stared at a spot behind her for a moment. ‘We should probably take my postcard down though.’

  Kumari turned to look at the board of hotness on the wall with the pictures of Hugh Jackman, Chris ‘Captain America’ Evans and Prince Benedict pinned to it. Lucy took the postcard of Benedict down and handed it to her.

  ‘It’s a bit weird for my fantasy boyfriend board to have a picture of your actual boyfriend on it.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re going out with Prince Benedict,’ Lucy said. ‘Prince actual bloody Benedict.’

  Kumari flushed.

  ‘Oh, you have some messages, by the way,’ said Lucy. She found the notes stuck to the fridge. ‘Here you go.’

  One was from the committee secretary from Better For All. The other was from Ruby. Both asked her to call them back. ‘What did Ruby want?’ Kumari frowned at the piece of paper. She hadn’t spoken to Ruby since that first date with Ben.

  ‘Dunno.’ Lucy sliced open a bagel and fed it carefully into the toaster. ‘She was intrigued about where you were though. She asked when your shift ended and I said you weren’t at work, you were away and she asked if it was with a guy.’

  ‘And you said . . . ?’

  ‘I said yes,’ said Lucy. ‘I didn’t realise it was a problem. She’ll never guess who it is though, will she?’

  Since Ruby knew she’d met Ben, she might put two and two together.

  ‘Is it a problem?’ Lucy looked worried now.

  Ruby set up the first date . . . so it probably wasn’t a big deal that Ruby knew now. She’d probably feel a sense of achievement at successfully matchmaking anyway. ‘No, I just hope she has the sense to keep it quiet,’ said Kumari.

  *

  Kumari returned her phone calls during breaks at work. She left a message with the committee secretary. Ruby, however, answered her phone.

  ‘Oh, hello, Kumari,’ said Ruby. ‘I guess you’re back from your break, then. How was it?’

  ‘Lovely, thanks. You left a message for me to call you back . . . ?’

  But Ruby was not so easily distracted. ‘Did you go with anyone special? Someone you had a blind date with perhaps?’

  Kumari laughed. ‘That would be quite a whirlwind romance,’ she said. ‘Listen, Ruby, I’m at work and I’ve only got a couple of minutes.’

  ‘Oh
. You’re not giving me the brush-off, are you, Kumari?’

  ‘No. I genuinely am at work.’

  Ruby gave a theatrical sigh. ‘I called because we’re announcing the shortlist and I’d like a quote from you. We’re trying to get some publicity from the “We listen to our volunteers and staff so that we can be sure our funds are going to practical causes” line. So if you could tell us your story about Hopeful and her kid, that would be ideal.’

  ‘Oh, sure. Would you be able to use what’s in the slides? Or do you need me to write something up especially?’ She processed what she’d just heard. ‘Does that mean my project made the shortlist?’

  ‘Yes. Didn’t you know? Someone was supposed to call you.’

  ‘I didn’t know. That’s brilliant!’ She did a little dance on the spot before remembering herself. ‘Who else is on the shortlist?’

  ‘A project to build small wind turbines, the 3D-printing limbs guy and Greg Frankish,’ said Ruby. ‘Those are all very visual projects. We have great images from them, but we need something with a bit of pizzazz for yours. We can’t use a picture of you, for obvious reasons. People will only remember the newspaper coverage of you fawning over Prince Benedict.’ She paused. ‘If you ended up with Prince Benedict . . .’ she said.

  Kumari knew the other woman was fishing for information. She felt a bit bad that she couldn’t share her news with Ruby, but Ben had been very insistent on privacy. Lucy finding out was an accident, but she couldn’t tell anyone else. ‘I’ll send you the pictures that I used in my slides.’

  ‘Yes, please do that.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Kumari.

  Kumari said her goodbyes and hung up. She punched the air. Yes. Her project had made the shortlist. She phoned Victor.

  ‘We did it! Made it onto the shortlist!’ he said. ‘Now we just need to persuade them that we’re the better cause.’

  ‘The 3D-printed prosthetics project is a good one.’