Royal Rock: A Bad Boy Royal Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “Okay,” I said.

  “You trust me?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, “but right now I believe that if you could stop something bad from happening, you would.”

  “Good enough,” he said, “because that’s the truth.”

  “Has there ever been an assassination in Starkland before?” I asked him.

  “Hundreds of years ago,” he admitted. “Actually, historians think my family assassinated your family to take over the throne, but lots of people don’t agree with that.”

  “Really?” I asked. “You jerk.”

  “Hey, not my fault. I’m barely related to those pricks anymore.”

  “You’ve got a little prick in you.”

  “And you had a nice, thick prick in you,” he said, smirking.

  I rolled my eyes. “Good one.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just so we’re clear, that wasn’t a good joke. I’m not sure if you get sarcasm, since you’re the king.”

  He laughed. “Why? Because I’m surrounded by yes men?”

  I grinned at him. “Exactly. Everyone is obligated to laugh at your stupid jokes.”

  “Untrue. Back in nineteen ten, my ancestors decreed that no person shall fake laugh at the king’s jokes.”

  “What penalty?”

  “Death, of course.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. I suddenly felt starving and started to eat a bit more. He smiled at me and ate along with me.

  For the first time since we left the castle, and since the man attacked, I felt okay. I didn’t feel perfect again, but just laughing like this and acting normally with Trip was making me come back to myself. He was just so clever and charming, and the confidence with which he did everything was so impressive and alluring.

  I had the stupid urge to reach across the table and touch his face, but I resisted. I didn’t know where we stood. Maybe he’d gotten what he wanted and was finished with that. Maybe he was just protecting me because he felt obligated.

  Whatever was happening, I felt better. We joked and laughed for a bit longer, until I realized, to my absolute horror, that I had eaten almost every single thing on the tray.

  “Oh my god,” I said, leaning back. “I ate like a pig. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said, laughing. “You’re not capable of doing anything like a pig. And you needed to eat.”

  “Still, I shouldn’t have gone to town like that. It was your lunch, too.”

  “I’m the king. I can eat more if I want.”

  I laughed. “Good point. I’m just a commoner after all. I should eat when I can. Who knows when we’ll go hungry while you rich barons grow fat and happy.”

  He grinned, looking out the window. “It might have worked like that once, but not anymore. If my people were hungry, I’d go hungry, too. Fortunately that’s not our problem.”

  “Civil war is your problem,” I said softly.

  “Yes. Civil fucking war.”

  We were silent for a second, and that thought hung in the air between us. Finally, I spoke up.

  “Trip, I want my parents to come join us here.”

  He shook his head no. “We spoke about this. They’re safest back at the castle.”

  “There’s a small army here. I can’t imagine they’d be safer anywhere else.”

  “I’m sorry, Bryce, but it’s a security thing also.”

  “You’ve had plenty of time to clear any security risks with them.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not so simple. We’re not clearing anyone of suspicion yet.”

  “Am I a suspect then?” I asked angrily, crossing my arms.

  “No,” he said softly. “You’re the only person I fully trust.”

  “Then trust me when I say that my father and Lucy aren’t a threat and that they should be here.”

  “I can’t do that,” he said again.

  “Then take me back to the castle.”

  He sighed. “I can’t do that either.”

  “You’re the king,” I said, getting heated. “You can do whatever you want. Remember?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what good are you?”

  “Sometimes I wonder that myself,” he said, his face cold and firm.

  I hated the twist this conversation had taken, but I needed to stand up for this. I couldn’t let Trip just do whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted like everyone else did. I knew my father and Lucy should be at the country estate, not still in Stehen with the assassins. They needed to be safe and protected.

  Trip stood up. “I’ll come back later,” he said.

  “Don’t bother,” I answered, looking back out the window, “unless you change your mind.”

  He started to say something, stopped himself, and then left the room.

  I sat back, feeling stupid and frustrated. Why had I picked that fight with him after things were going so well? It just wasn’t necessary, but it had happened anyway. I hadn’t been able to stop myself even when I’d realized I was making a mistake.

  I wanted my family with me, but I knew Trip had other responsibilities. He was giving me way more attention than I deserved already as it was. I shouldn’t make my problems so important when really they were minor compared to what he was dealing with.

  I sighed, staring back out the window. What a vacation this had been so far.

  22

  TRIP

  General Hardcourt paced across the front of the room, a long pointing stick in his hand. He gestured at the map in front of him and I suppressed a yawn.

  I checked my watch. It was early the next morning. I’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep the night before, since it was one emergency after the next as my advisors began to figure out what our response should be.

  I knew what our response should be. We needed to destroy the rebels and restore order to the country for the sake of my people. Enough was enough.

  “And so, Your Highness, if we place fifty tanks here and here, we can choke them off and they’ll starve before winter.”

  The room looked at me. I nodded and pretended like I was listening. “Yes, very good. Go ahead.”

  He nodded, pleased. It was always the same thing with the generals. They came up with some great strategy that would win the war, and then they were always wrong for some reason. Sometimes it was troop shortages, sometimes it was not enough equipment, and sometimes it was bad luck. But it was always something.

  Starkland used to be a great warrior nation. We’d conquered neighbors and carved out a tiny empire in the midst of Europe. When all the great European countries were rising up and destroying each other, we persevered. We survived world wars and worse. Other monarchies toppled, but Starkland solidered on, day after day, its people flourishing.

  But we hadn’t been at war in a very long time. We didn’t have a large military and had never really needed or wanted one. We had no interest in getting involved in foreign affairs and had never needed to fight our own people before.

  And so the war was dragging on. It wasn’t such a simple thing to destroy a group of your own people. My brother had tried and failed, and he was supposed to be some great Starkish savior.

  Well, I wasn’t any better. I almost got my ass murdered in my own palace.

  I glanced over at the window, and for a second, I thought I saw Bryce. I thought I saw her wearing a light green dress, the skirt blowing in the wind, her hair loose and free in the breeze. But no. It was nothing, just a figment of my imagination.

  Damn my fucking pride. I couldn’t have just listened to her and brought her parents to the country estate? I knew it wasn’t that big of a deal. My ministers and advisors would all get over it. Sure, there might be some minor little media scandal, but who fucking cared about that? We were in a war, and someone had nearly killed me in my own bedroom. That was bad. Some shitty news story in a tabloid was nothing compared to that.

  But I’d pushed back, and I’d pushed her too hard, all because I was an asshole who
couldn’t listen. I was supposed to be a king. I was supposed to know what to do and what to say.

  When it came to Bryce, I felt like I knew what to do and what to say, but somehow something came around to fuck it all up. First it was that slap, and then it was the assassin, and now it was my own foolish pride.

  General Hardcourt finished his presentation, and some other minor general got up to speak. He went on and on about water movements in the western regions, and as much as I wanted to give a fuck, I just couldn’t.

  The meeting dragged on, speaker after speaker, their presentations getting more and more obscure and useless. I gave my assent to almost all of their requests since they were of nearly no consequence at all.

  Finally, we came to the break. I stood and the room followed. They bowed, said “Long live the King of Starkland,” and then I left. It was all ceremonial and symbolic, but the stuffy ministers needed their tradition to stay relevant.

  Meanwhile, I had nearly no patience for any of it. I found myself walking through the halls without much thought at all about where I was going.

  I used to wander these halls when I was a child. We’d summer in the estates when Father was too busy with work. Mother would bring Leo and me out to the country, probably just to give us something to do and to keep us from annoying our dad too much. I’d spent a lot of time in this house, a lot of formative time.

  As I walked, I realized where I was gradually. I was one hall down from Bryce’s room.

  I made up my mind in that instant. I went to her door and knocked.

  “Yes?” she called out.

  “It’s me,” I said.

  There was a pause. “Come in.”

  I opened the door. “I was wondering if you’d like to go for a little walk with me,” I said.

  She was sitting on the couch watching television, her legs up on the coffee table. She glanced down at herself and then nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Give me a second.”

  I leaned up against the doorway. “Take your time.”

  “Trip,” she said, “out.”

  I grinned. “I’m the king. I give the commands.”

  “Trip.” She stood up.

  I laughed and held up my hands. “Okay. I’ll be right out there. But if you take too long, I’m coming in and getting you.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  I stepped out and shut the door. I leaned up against the wall, smiling to myself.

  Not five minutes later, she stepped out the door. Her hair was braided down over one shoulder, and she was wearing a navy blue dress with tall hiking boots.

  “You look good,” I said, “but I wish you’d taken longer. I was itching to kick down that door.”

  “Come on,” she said. “We’ll find some other doors for you to kick down.”

  I grinned and led the way. I headed back down the hall, down the main staircase, and out the back door.

  “I love this place,” I said to her as we headed down the back path between the stables.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I bet it’s nicer without all the men holding guns.”

  “I don’t know. I like the guns.”

  “I bet you do. They make me nervous.”

  “They should have the opposite effect.”

  Al and his team were trailing us from a distance. She didn’t mention it, but I knew she could tell we were being watched.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I haven’t decided.”

  “Did you spend a lot of time here when you were a kid?”

  “I did, actually,” I said. “My father was busy in the summer, so my mother would bring me and my brother here.”

  “That’s lucky. The only place we ever went in the summer was to the Jersey Shore.”

  I cocked my head. “Where’s that?”

  “New Jersey. It’s a state.”

  “Oh, that’s right. They say it’s the armpit of America. Is that right?”

  She laughed loudly at that, and I grinned. I’d heard that in some movie once, though I couldn’t place where. I was glad it delighted her.

  “Some people say that, sure,” she said. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Well, this place isn’t bad at all. I used to chase the horses when I was barely old enough to walk. In retrospect, that seems crazy.”

  “Horses could crush a little kid,” she said, smiling.

  “Definitely could. But little princes were not to be coddled, at least not in Starkland.”

  “Must have been so hard, you poor guy.”

  “Being royalty is tough.”

  She laughed as we made our way from the stables down toward the woods and the stream. I glanced back at Al and gestured for them to back off. He frowned but obeyed, moving farther back. Bryce pretended like she didn’t see.

  “Up ahead is a little river,” I said. “I call it the bendy.”

  “Bendy? Why?”

  “It has a bend,” I said, grinning.

  She laughed again. “Creative.”

  “I was very young when I named it.”

  “What’s the real name?”

  “Oh, who knows? Some historical figure or some obscure lord or some shit like that. Starkland has a million of those.”

  She smiled, and the light streamed through her hair. I felt something inside me, very briefly, something I thought I had lost.

  “Listen,” she started, “about yesterday.”

  “That was my mistake,” I said quickly. “That was my pride talking.”

  “I was going to apologize,” she said softly.

  “You don’t need to,” I answered. “You really don’t. You want your parents here? Fine; they’ll be here by dinnertime. I’ll have it done.”

  “Thank you, Trip,” she said.

  “Come on, let’s forget that.” We crested the little hill and began to head down toward the trees and the stream.

  Bryce laughed when the stream was in sight. “Hardly a river,” she said. “Where’s the bend?”

  “Farther that way,” I said, pointing upstream. “First, let me take care of this parents thing. Then I want to show you something else.”

  I gestured and Al came trotting up. I told him in Starklandian to get Bryce’s parents and to make sure they arrived at the estate by dinner. He bowed and said it would be done.

  Bryce shook her head. “Trying to hide something?” she asked.

  I grinned. “My English isn’t so good.”

  “Liar. What’d you say?”

  “Just had him get your parents. Like I said, they’ll be here by dinner.”

  She smiled at me and shook her head.

  “Come on,” I said, and started walking.

  We headed downstream for a few minutes, talking idly about nothing. I hadn’t completely forgotten our stupid fight, but I felt better. I’d taken responsibility and hadn’t let her try to apologize. We both knew that would be bullshit. She wasn’t in the wrong, and I wasn’t about to force her to say something she didn’t mean.

  I was going to get her parents. I may have been a bad boy and an asshole, but I did what I said I would do.

  Ahead, there was a small grouping of trees. It looked almost fake and came out of nowhere, appearing at the base of another rise with the stream passing right through it.

  “Just ahead,” I said.

  “What is that?”

  “That’s something special. Come on.”

  We headed over toward the trees. They were densely packed and thin with white, flakey bark. The branches were mainly at the top, so the small grouping of trees looked almost like a bunch of birthday candles sticking up from the ground.

  “Aspen trees,” I said. “Very, very old Aspen trees. They’re not supposed to grow here, but they do.”

  “Wow,” she said. “It’s really beautiful.” We stepped into the small forest, but the underbrush was loose and spread out. It was easy to hike through it as we made our way toward the stream.

 
; “They were planted for religious reasons,” I said, “but nobody really knows what or why anymore. These were planted way before Starkland was a thing, probably before kings were even a thing.”

  It was quiet and gorgeous. I could remember sneaking down here so many times as a child, though in retrospect I hadn’t been sneaking at all. I’d probably had ten guards posted all around me, keeping out of sight so I could feel independent. For all the shit, I’d had a decent enough childhood.

  I pointed up ahead. Bryce followed my gaze and laughed at what she saw.

  Attached to one of the trees was a crude rope swing.

  “The royal swing?” she asked.

  “You got it,” I said.

  “And is that ancient?”

  “If you think twenty years is ancient, then yeah, sure.”

  She laughed and then followed me as I walked up to the swing. I gave it a little push, but it looked old and liable to fall at any moment. I wasn’t going to risk her gorgeous ass on it.

  “I’d suggest you get on there, but I don’t want to see you break your tailbone,” I said.

  “You can get on, though. I wouldn’t mind.”

  I smirked at her. “Still angry?”

  “No,” she said. “You’re just still an asshole.”

  I laughed and idly pushed the swing. “I used to come here with my brother all the time. We weren’t the closest brothers. I lived in his shadow much of the time. He was the eldest, so he got all of the important responsibilities.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  “Not really,” I said, grinning. “It’s better not to have responsibility. It meant I got to do as I pleased.”

  She nodded, looking around. “I read about that. You pleased a lot of people.”

  I barked a short laugh, grinning at her. I liked that she’d done some research on me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was so good at pretending like she didn’t give a shit. It was nice to get a glimpse past that for a second. “I did. I sowed my royal seed,” I said.

  “Gross.” She laughed and shook her head.

  “You didn’t seem to mind the other night.”