Robert blew out a breath, readying himself to try and convince me otherwise. But he never got the chance. A streak of black topped with dazzlingly bright blonde hair ran past us in full-blown meltdown mode. Victoria almost wailed like a banshee as she sprinted away.
“What the—” Robert said, surprised by her sudden appearance and disappearance, and he let go of my arm. “We go better go see what’s wrong.”
“You go deal with her. I’m not in the mood for Vicky’s antics, not today of all days.”
“We should go together. Besides, two’s better than one,” he countered, hoping he could get me to come along and calm our baby sister down.
“Not anymore,” I said and stepped away from him.
Robert shrugged, resigned himself to the difficult task ahead, peeled off from me and headed in the direction Victoria had fled while calling behind him, “Remember we still need to have that chat!”
I shifted gears as I cruised through the streets of London, my jaw clenched tightly. My head pounded from the tension. The day had been too much to handle, everyone looking at me full of expectation. Expecting me to fail, to screw up, to lash out.
Except one person.
But even I had to admit it was only a matter of time before all three came true. I hated them all. “Fuck them,” I muttered and took a hard right, my headlights illuminating streets I’d visited many times before. I pulled down a side street and up to a nondescript building. A plain office tower, perhaps, by day. Dodgy meeting place by night. This was far from the palace and my new life.
As I shut off the car, a man stepped out of an alcove with a lit cigarette hanging from his lip. He nodded a greeting as I got out of the car.
“Graham,” I acknowledged back. “Where’s the action tonight?”
He chuckled and took a long drag. He breathed the toxic smoke in deep before letting it escape from his nostrils a few moments later. “Rumour has it that I got the future King of England standing before me. Should I bow or something?”
“Don’t fucking start. I’ve had enough of that shit for one day.”
Graham shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. There was a chill in the April air.
“It’s the truth, mate. Soon you’re gonna have security all around you, like flies on shit—”
“Charming.”
“And that don’t do good with the crowd,” he finished.
“Let me worry about that. I’ve had plenty experience shaking my detail after all of these years. A few more bodies won’t make a difference. Easier to give them the run-around, I expect.”
“Mhm,” he said and pursed his lips. “But still, I can’t very well be giving a prince information that could lead to my arrest, now could I?”
I shot him a dark look, though deep down inside I knew it would be a risk for him and everyone involved. “Cut the shit. Are you going to tell me or not?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” Graham dropped the finished cigarette and crushed it under his shoe. “Sorry to hear about your brother, mate.”
“Thanks,” I said, caught a little off guard. Normally Graham was all business.
Graham nodded. “If you need anything…”
“Well right now you know exactly what I want,” I interjected. “If you really mean what you said, that is. Or is that just some bullshit you think you should say for lack of saying anything better?”
“No bullshit.” He paused, considering his choices. Give up the information and potentially put my life in harm’s way and risk the whole network, or see me off and risk me spilling the beans regardless? He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, but for my sake I hoped he chose right. I needed an outlet for all the steam that had been brewing inside my head, pronto.
Jeremy, our mutual acquaintance, had put us in touch years ago and Graham and I met at a dingy pub. Over a pint of ale we’d discussed our thrill-seeking ways and as soon as I heard he raced cars for a living, I was hooked. Jeremy wasn’t interested in cars, let alone racing them, preferring to get his highs naturally from the outdoors, with less mechanical interference the better. He was a purist of sorts. But that hadn’t stopped me.
Graham taught me a great deal about street racing and in return I’d anonymously sponsored his first street racing team, the legit one. He had given me friendship, a down to earth, no bullshit friendship. He knew who I was, but we never really spoke about it. Not really. Sometimes he’d tease me about it, but that was when my title was pretty pointless. And now I wasn’t in the mood for his little digs. I wanted to race and forget, just for a little while.
“So?”
“Funnily enough, there’s some racing going down at the Royal dockyard. Deptford. A tribute of sorts,” he finally said and I refrained from rolling my eyes. But at least he’d given up the information and told me what I wanted to know. “I was getting ready to head over there.”
“I’ll follow,” I answered. He gave me a look but said nothing and I climbed back into the Audi, eagerly gripping the steering wheel. I needed something to get my mind off of today and drinking wasn’t cutting it anymore. And base-jumping wasn’t an option. I was a little unhinged and hurting, but not suicidal. At least not yet.
Graham took his sweet ass time, but finally his car pulled out of the underground parking garage attached to the building and I fell in step behind his supped-up but discreet ride, and followed him back onto the main street, my adrenaline surging.
Frederick had never understood my need to risk my life, nor did anyone else for that matter. “Street racing?” he had asked during one of the weekly dinners we would have together, unbeknownst to the rest of the family. Sometimes we’d both ditch our detail and end up in an exclusive private restaurant, or a dingy curry house somewhere. Either that or we’d stay in behind closed doors, a bottle of scotch between us. Just being brothers, not members of the royal family, for an hour or two, hanging out like normal people, watching movies, playing video games. I was going to miss those nights.
There were times I felt like Rick had lived vicariously through me, and to a lesser extent Robert and his army life too, even though Frederick had done a short stint with the navy in his early twenties. It hadn’t lasted long; too many concerns over his safety and the dangerous waters the Royal Navy patrolled. Ironic really, since his plane had gone down in the middle of the South China Sea. He hadn’t escaped the dangers after all.
But still, Frederick didn’t understand the risks I took and yet he always wanted to know about my adventures and what I got up to with Jeremy or Graham. Though I knew he would never take those chances himself, he’d grown up too fast, too soon. His life was focused around his duty to his country, he had dedicated himself to it, and we had two different paths to follow. Now, though, those paths were blurred for me and I was torn at what he would want me to do for the best.
Graham drove through a silent industrial estate, old warehouses on either side, as we got closer to the abandoned docks. The buildings were dark and ominous, many of the streetlights out or flickering a dirty yellow. Maintenance in this part of town wasn’t a high priority. Soon a low blue glow bled out at the end of a long straight road. An enthusiastic crowd was already gathered with their parked cars, their high beams on full.
I pulled into a tight spot near the others and climbed out, donning a pair of mirrored sunglasses and baseball cap to conceal my identity as much as I could, even though it was long past dusk. It was one thing to have Graham know, but I would be asking for trouble if I went around flaunting who I was. I wasn’t that fucking reckless and I really didn’t need the headache. The last thing I needed was for the word to get out. Before I knew it, it would be splashed all over the front page of the Sun or some other worthless rag, detailing how unfit I was for the throne. Hell, I was unfit.
Graham walked over to my car, concern on his face. “Are you totally sure you want to race tonight? Last chance to back out.”
I cracked my knuckles together. “I’m sure.” Reaching into my pocket, I p
ulled out a wad of crisp notes, my father’s profile detailed on each and every one, and pushed them toward him. “Here,” I said. “That should get someone to bite.”
Graham took my money and sauntered back over to the crowd as I lounged by my car, my arms crossed over my chest. The anticipation never got old; neither did the excitement.
That was more money that the group was used to seeing and I was certain someone would take me up on it tonight. And I was right; it didn’t take long for someone to nibble. Graham reeled them in and he was walking back with a grin on his face.
“Mate, if I had known it was that much money I would have raced you myself.”
“Maybe next time. Plenty more where that came from.”
“Yeah our tax money hard at work,” he said with an amicable smile; busting my balls as usual. “But like you knew they would, they fought over it,” he continued. “You’re up in five. Against four others.”
A slow grin spread over my face. Game on.
“You’ve got a nasty concussion and that cut on your forearm took twelve stitches.”
The fog in my head was slowly clearing but it still hurt when I nodded at the doctor as he finished rattling off the list of other injuries I’d managed to get.
“We’ll keep you overnight for observation and turn you loose in the morning,” he said, the list finally ending and I was glad when he walked out of the hospital room so I could lean my head back upon the soft pillow without having to strain my neck any more.
My head was fucking killing me and the stitches pulled with every movement or twitch of my arm. These by far had to be the worse injuries I’d sustained from racing. At least I had fared better than my bloody car, I thought with a wince. My poor baby.
The race had been going so well; my Audi had edged out in front, and practically stayed ahead for the entire race until the little bastard next to me, who’d gotten way too fucking close, lost control of his piece of shit Subaru and smashed into me, sending us both airborne. My world had literally turned and I had flipped a few times, spiralling, sending my body crashing around on the inside, a pinball ricocheting off every surface I came in contact with.
I was lucky to be alive and winced again at the fuzzy memory. The sound of scrapping metal as the car hit the deck, skidding along the road like nails on a chalkboard. Inertia finally wore out and I came to a stop, upside down, the roof of the car kissing the deck, spinning slightly in place.
Smoke had filled the interior and God knows how I’d managed to get myself unbuckled and out. But I remembered crashing through the partially shattered window and the pain shooting up my arm as I crawled to safety, the cut glass slicing into my skin before help arrived. I was almost out fully when Graham showed up and pulled me the rest of the way clear of the wreckage. I thought he was going to pass out when he got an eyeful of my bleeding arm as he pressed his jacket to the wound. But he kept it together long enough to bundle me up in his car for the hospital, where I had been poked, prodded, and stabbed with needles repeatedly.
All in all, not one of my finest nights.
Sighing, I waited for the pain meds I’d been given to kick in again and dull some of the pain. I dozed, wondering what was going on outside the hospital walls. I’d given a false name, an alias, and Graham wouldn’t have been stupid enough to tell them who I was, but that wouldn’t matter. As soon as the pre-determined alias had been put into the system alarm bells would’ve been going off in some dark clandestine room. And no doubt by now word had reached the palace, and subsequently my father. It was only going to be a matter of time before I was paid a visit, a most unpleasant one at that. I could probably count my freedom goodbye as well.
The visit came sooner than I thought and I was quietly informed that I was being transferred to King Frederick IV’s hospital. The number one choice for members of the royal family. Though if I had any say in the matter—which I didn’t—I would’ve happily stayed at the local emergency room. The nurses had been most helpful.
And the irony wasn’t lost on me either. Even after death and beyond the grave Frederick, and his namesake same as the royal hospital, was looking after me. I’d laughed bitterly when they told me, a stitch or two popping free, but there was nothing I could do to stop the inevitable transfer.
An ambulance ride and a half-hour later, I was settled in my new private room and I didn’t have to wait long for my next visit. I knew who it was by the sudden hush the building seem to take on. Like everyone inside was holding their breath. The shuffle of nurses and doctors outside my door and down the hallway ceased, then there were heavy footsteps. Determined ones, loud and angry.
The door flew open and my father stepped into the room, his face pale. He was still dressed in his funeral suit.
“Bloody hell, William,” he shouted at me, then waved his own security detail back out of the door before shutting it behind him. Clearly whatever he wanted to say he didn’t want anyone else to hear it. Though as I learned before, the walls were not soundproof, but that didn’t stop him from shouting, however.
“You stupid boy! Don’t you think this family has suffered enough? What were you thinking?”
I shrugged and dropped my gaze. “The pot was worth it,” I said defiantly. It hadn’t been though, not really. Especially not for the damages my car had endured. The Audi was a write-off. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. It also hadn’t dulled any pain inside like I had hoped it would.
The king raked his hand through his hair and paced the polished green linoleum floor in front of the bed.
“My God, William. Do you not think of anyone but yourself? Can you even fathom your mother’s reaction when they came to tell us there had been yet another accident?” He stopped to look at me, his eyes bleak, no longer full of anger. But now they were full of tears. I hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction. Shit. I’d fully expected to be reamed a new one, but not this.
“She thought she had lost another child,” my father added, his voice breathy. “So did I.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked away, ignoring the tightness in my chest. I hadn’t wanted to give them any more grief, I just wanted my own to go away. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“Your fault?” my father sputtered. “You should have been with your family tonight, not racing cars hell bent on killing yourself. That life is over with, starting from this moment. You will have double detail with you twenty-four-seven as soon as I leave this bloody room. And so help me God if you ditch them one more time… I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I glared at him. “It’s my fucking life to do as I see fit.”
He barked a laugh. “No, it is not. Not anymore. Your life belongs to your country and I suggest you get used to the idea because it’s not going to change anytime soon. Make your peace with your lot in life otherwise you’ll only cause yourself and everyone else around you more grief.”
“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if Frederick was still here. You’ve never given a damn about me before. The middle son. Forgotten.”
My father’s face paled and for a moment I thought I had gone too far. My family had never been affectionate, too much in the spotlight to coddle anyone. And I knew they cared for me, just not as much as they had for their darling first-born Frederick.
“I have a good mind to close up Durham House and make you move back to the palace—”
“You wouldn’t—” I interrupted.
“But I won’t. We’d end up driving each other mad living in the same space again. However, you will be expected at the palace in the morning,” he said, continuing on as if I hadn’t spoke. There was something about his expression that didn’t sit too well with me however and I knew there was more to come.
“You will apologise to your mother for scaring her to death and you will pick up every single one of Frederick’s duties or so help me God Will, you will feel my wrath. You think it’s bad now? Just try and test me. I’ve had it up to here with you, so do us all a favour and grow
up!”
He then walked out, slamming the door, causing the room to rattle, and leaving the sting of his words to settle in my head. Damn him. Yet despite all my fury and thoughts of wanting to be free of this life, I knew he wasn’t messing around. He had me by the balls.
The door creaked open once more and I sighed, my father was back for round two.
“Back to tell me what else I’ve done fucking wrong?” I shouted, unable to restrain myself.
When he didn’t answer, I looked over at the door and saw wide pale blue eyes staring down at me. “Oh, great. Just what I need… What in the bloody hell do you want? You better be here to give me a sponge-bath, otherwise you can get lost.”
Six
Sophie
My heart raced as I shut the door, closing myself inside the room, alone with the prince. My new nemesis. I had a moment of doubt when I wondered what on earth I was doing there. But I quickly reminded myself I had a job to do.
I was fortunate to be friends with the royal publicist, who had rang me to give me a heads up as soon as she’d heard of William’s accident and subsequent admittance to King Frederick IV’s hospital.
Ignoring the late hour and after throwing on some clothes, I hurried to the hospital in the middle of the night, fearing the worst. I’d managed to get there in time to hear the last bit of His Majesty’s conversation with his son, giving him an ultimatum and painting him into a corner that I knew Will would be livid about. But in all the years I had worked for the royal family, I had never heard the king so angry.
The shouting ended and the king shut the door with a tremendous amount of force as he left. I stepped aside, nodded and curtsied as he passed by, not expecting him to address me.
“Your turn. I hope you can talk some sense into him, Sophie.”
Royal Master Page 5