Esther was throwing large stainless steel mixing bowls at the help when Alfred arrived. He caught her wrist on a back swing and spun her forcibly around to face him.
"Good morning, my darling sister. Shall we talk?" he asked, oozing charm.
"Talk! You spineless serpent. You're holding my husband here against his will!"
"Yes, an unfortunate turn of events. Come, let's discuss it over coffee."
"I don't want coffee, you pathetic twit. I want my husband!"
"You and half the kingdom," Alfred muttered.
"What was that?" Her eyes blazed with fury as she spat the question.
"Nothing, dearest. Here, won't you sit? Please, you must be exhausted. Where is little Benji this morning?"
"Benjamin is with the nurse," she said, with ice in her voice. "Where the devil is Brennan?"
"You must forgive me, Esther. Brennan took some liberties with my betrothed yesterday, and we have yet to resolve the issue."
"I heard you resolved the issue with her head," Esther sniffed.
"My issue with her, perhaps," he said vaguely, waving his hand. "However, Brennan's abominable behavior cannot be overlooked."
"Abominable? What's abominable is trapping him in a cage like some mindless animal!"
"So, you have no interest in knowing what abominable behavior I'm referring to?" Alfred asked, incredulously.
"Oh, he probably had a good roll with her," Esther said, rolling her eyes.
"That doesn't seem to bother you."
"The only part of it that bothers me is the fact that she's an ugly cow," Esther snapped. "He has better taste than that, I mean... obviously." She laughed as she gestured to her ample breasts and tight curves.
"You know he takes lovers, then?" Alfred asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Lovers is a bit of a stretch," Esther said, with a shrug. "He wants it, he takes it, that's the end of it. I certainly can't keep up with his appetites. Why shouldn't he have his needs met by the occasional slut?"
Alfred ground his teeth against that characterization of Oscar, but he kept his words to himself.
"He crossed the line," Alfred said, instead. "He trespassed into my territory. An unforgivable offense. He will stay where he is until I decide a fitting punishment."
Esther crossed her arms and glared.
"Then I'll be tormenting your household until you do so!"
"And if you do, I will be forced to place you in the cell beside him, leaving poor little Benji with no mommy and no daddy indefinitely. You wouldn't want to do that to your own pup, now would you?"
Her resolve visibly faltered. She chewed her lip for a moment, looking over his shoulder through the window which faced her own house. He watched her face as she made her decision.
"Very well," she said, icily. "I will be at home, waiting for my husband. If he doesn't return this evening, and I am forced to come back, I will not be nearly as pleasant."
"And a damn shame that would be, milady," Alfred said, with an exaggerated bow. "Shall I see you to the door?"
"I will see myself out, you pretentious ninny," she said, turning her nose up. "My most sincere condolences for the loss of your bride."
On that sarcastic note, she took herself out the kitchen door to stomp across the mile of gardens to torment her own servants.
Chapter 13
A familiar sound jolted Oscar out of sleep. He couldn't place it for a moment, but he knew that he had to get out of bed immediately. He rolled out, oriented himself, and raided the Prince's wardrobe for appropriate attire. It didn't occur to him that he was supposed to be dressed as a girl, nor did it occur to him that he was supposed to be dead, because he had finally identified the sound that woke him. His Aunt Gina was wailing his name as though her heart would break.
He raced to the door only to find it locked, with a note pinned to it.
"Stay put," he scoffed. "Not a chance, your highness."
He returned to the wardrobe and felt around the back wall until he found the latch to open the hidden door. He pushed it open carefully, looking left and right. He was alone in the hidden hallway. Gina's voice rang through the palace again, high and wavering with emotion. Urgency ignited his nerves, and he raced to the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time as he raced down to the ground floor of the palace. He pushed open a random door in the lower hallway, and found himself in a sort of game room, complete with billiard table and table tennis. He listened for Gina's voice and followed it through the door and down a long, wide, marble hallway. Her sobs radiated from the same room he'd met Brennan in the day before. Without stopping to think or remember the details of the previous day, Oscar flung the door wide and stepped through.
"Wh–wh–wha..."
Gina trailed off as her eyes rolled back in her sheet-white face and she fainted. Octavia caught her and dragged her to a couch, pushing and pulling until she was lying with some level of decorum on the gold-striped fabric.
"Good job, Oscar," Octavia said, sarcastically. "You ruined her big mourning scene."
"What?" Oscar asked, confused.
He noticed Alfred, who was red-faced and shaking with rage.
"What did I do?" Oscar asked timidly.
"Apparently, you came back from the dead," Octavia said, wryly. "We were just informed by his apoplecticness over there that you'd been executed for general slutdom."
"I was what... oh. Oh, crap."
"Yes! Crap! The whole plan, gone to crap! Didn't you see the note?"
"Well, I..."
"And those clothes! You look like a man, you idiot!"
"Gina was..."
"Putting on a brilliant performance! Didn't know it was a performance, of course, but if anything would seal it, it was her!"
"S–so now..."
"So now the entire palace, and the kingdom by extension, knows that my male bride is alive and well, which means I have to explain Brennan's imprisonment as well as my own deception, and just how do you expect me to do that without blowing the lid off of everything?"
"I... I'm sorry, I..."
"Sorry! He's sorry! Did you hear that, Octavia? Your cousin is sorry."
Alfred turned his back and rubbed his temple, taking several long, deep breaths. Octavia moved across the room silently to embrace Oscar.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you aren't dead," she whispered.
"Thanks," Oscar said with a small, worried smile.
"Right, so, it's fine. We can fix this," Alfred said, grinding the palms of his hands into his eyes. "We just need a preemptive strike, that's all. We can still control this."
Just then, the doorbell chimed, echoing throughout the marble-lined main hall.
"Oh, for God's sake, what is it now?!" Alfred exploded, throwing his hands up.
"Mrs. Winters and Ms. Winters to see you, sire," Burges informed him with his usual proper, even tone.
"Of course they are."
"Shall I show them in, sire?"
"Show them into the parlor. I will speak with them privately. Thank you, Burges."
Before Burges had finished bowing, however, the Winters women burst into the drawing room.
"Charming palace!"
"Such a charming palace, it's simply perfect!"
"Can't you just see little Andy playing in these great halls?"
"Oh yes, yes, him and his little ball rolling around in these fancy rooms," the younger woman giggled. "Oh, he would make quite the mess of things, wouldn't he?"
"That's what maids are for," the elder said, with a shrew-like grin. "Dear me, we've been terribly rude! Curtsy, dear, curtsy, we're in the presence of royalty!"
The women sank low into their curtsies, murmuring "highness" in unison. Oscar shuddered.
"And you!" Oscar's mother turned on him, pointing her bony finger at his nose. "How dare you!"
"How dare I...?" Oscar asked, tiredly.
"Masquerading as a woman, honestly, what were you thinking? It's not enough to mate with men, you have to preten
d to be a woman?!"
"That is quite enough, madam," Alfred said, coldly. "Burges will be happy to show you into the parlor. I will meet with you momentarily."
Oscar's mother turned bright red and curtsied again. Burges led the women out of the room, and Oscar, Octavia and Alfred breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"I'm not finished with you," Alfred told Oscar. "But I will put that on hold for the moment. What are their names?"
"My mother is Yolanda, my sister is Ursula."
Alfred made a face, and Oscar shrugged.
"When we have children, I name them," Alfred told him.
"Wait, you're still planning on marrying him?" Octavia asked.
"Assuming we ever get a moment alone," Alfred snapped. "Gods, I told them this was a bad idea. I told them. Do they listen? Of course not. Why listen to me, I'm just the alpha prince, just the ruler of the whole godforsaken kingdom. Why should they listen to me?" Alfred continued to mutter as he stomped from the room and slammed the door.
"Wow," Octavia said, with a low whistle. "Is he always like that?"
"No," Oscar said, quickly. "He's actually very nice, most of the time. Well, sometimes. He's fair. He didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
"Oh really?" Octavia asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"Not like that," Oscar laughed, rolling his eyes. "We had to... ugh, it's complicated."
"I'm picking up on that," Octavia said, pursing her lips. "I'm actually kind of glad he noticed you instead of me."
Oscar elbowed her playfully. Gina gasped back to consciousness, and he raced to her side.
"Not a ghost, auntie," he promised her, patting her hand. "It's a long story, but I promise, I'm alive and well."
"Oh, Oscar!" she said, her lower lip trembling.
She grabbed his face and kissed him all over, before releasing it to slap him hard across the cheek.
"Ow!"
"Well that's what you get for frightening your old aunt half to death!" she scolded. "Octavia, darling, find me a cup of tea."
"Of course!" Octavia said happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Octavia," Oscar said, warningly.
She paid him no mind, but stuck her head out the drawing room door and called for Burges in a sing-song voice. He materialized almost immediately, and took her request for tea with his usual professional grace. She skipped back to the couch and perched on the arm.
"I could get used to this." She grinned.
"You might get to." Oscar grinned back at her. "If all goes well, we'll be moving the two of you in after the wedding."
"Yay!" Octavia sang, clapping her hands like an excited child. "Oh, I always knew you would be our ticket to the good life."
"You did?" Oscar asked, incredulously.
"Well, no, I sort of thought we would meet our demise when your piles of books caused the ceiling to collapse, but this is much better!"
Oscar laughed and threw a decorative pillow at her. Suddenly, with her and his aunt here, the palace seemed more like home. For the first time since the party, he felt like everything might just turn out okay. Alfred, meanwhile, was dealing with the very-not-okay situation involving Oscar's less appealing relatives.
"Now, Mrs. Winters, Ms. Winters, what can I do for you?"
"We've come to you with some very valuable information about your bride-to-be," Mrs. Winters informed him haughtily. "I see you have already discovered his secret identity. He has other secrets, I'm afraid. Dark, damaging secrets. Even if you are able to convince your subjects to accept a cross-dressing boy as queen... which, I'm afraid, I very much doubt... you will never be able to convince them to accept an unwed male mother."
"Ah, I see. And you are here because...?"
"Because we will keep his secret child a secret," the younger woman said. "For a price."
Alfred pretended to consider their offer for a long moment, pacing the room, stroking his chin, putting on an act bordering on the sarcastic.
"A few hundred thousand would barely put a dent in your coffers," Mrs. Winters added. "But it would buy you our most valuable silence."
"Hm," he hummed, tapping his chin.
He began to pace again, watching in silent amusement as they began to wriggle in their seats.
"A few rooms in one wing of the palace," Ursula burst out as the silence grew dense.
"Where is this alleged child now?" Alfred asked. "You realize I can't accept your word without at least a cursory examination."
"What sort of examination?" Mrs. Winters asked, suspiciously.
"Scent markers, bone structure, a quick once-over by my personal physician to verify that the child is, in fact, Oscar's. And of course, we will need proof that he carried and delivered the child, and didn't simply father it."
"Father it!" Mrs. Winters scoffed. "He couldn't father anything. He isn't particularly masculine in his tastes, if you catch my meaning."
"Ah, I see," Alfred said. "And you're aware of his sexual appetites because...?"
"I'm his mother!" Mrs. Winters gasped. "I'm aware of no such thing!"
"Ah, but you just said..."
"He was pregnant," Ursula interjected. "Of course, he isn't a top."
"I see," Alfred said, his mouth twitching in amusement. "Very well, bring the child in so we might examine him and Oscar alike. If there is any evidence of your allegations, we will negotiate some sort of compensation."
The women exchanged excited glances.
"He's with the nurse out in the carriage," Mrs. Winters said quickly. "I will fetch him. Ursula, darling, why don't you entertain the prince for a moment?"
"Alright," Ursula giggled.
She sashayed over to Alfred, swinging her wide hips and tossing her carrot-orange curls over her shoulder. He saw the family resemblance between her and Oscar, but her heavy makeup and overwhelming perfume had him suppressing the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust. She trailed a finger over the buttons on his shirt, and he raised a cool eyebrow at her.
"You know," she purred. "If it's a true queen you're looking for, you could always choose again. People say that Oscar and I are virtually identical... and I know far more than he ever will about pleasing a man."
"I don't doubt that," Alfred said, with double-edged sincerity as he backed away from her touch. "I'll be sure to keep it in mind."
"Oh, yes, do," she sighed, closing the space between them with exaggerated, swaying steps.
She pretended to lose her balance, toppling so that her breasts were pressed up against his chest.
"Ooh, what a strong man you are," she sighed, fluttering her eyelashes.
He sneezed as the perfume overwhelmed his nostrils, and gently pushed her upright by her shoulders.
"Madam, keep your distance or I will have you removed. Your perfume is an affront to my senses."
Her jaw dropped in shock, and two hot spots of color shone under the caked-on makeup.
"Here we are, the little bundle of joy," Mrs. Winters said, as she bustled back into the room. "Did you two get acquainted?"
Ursula just sniffed and turned her nose up and away from Alfred. Mrs. Winters glared at her for a long moment before passing the squirming baby over to Alfred.
"Here you are," she said. "Oscar's illegitimate male-born."
"Hello, little one!" Alfred said, with a smile.
The child was absolutely beautiful, and his grin melted Alfred's heart in a pure way that he had never known before. The baby had Oscar's emerald-green eyes and a shock of jet-black hair which sprung from his head in a single large curl. He gurgled and bounced in Alfred's arms, touching his hair, grabbing his nose and pulling on buttons.
"What a little explorer you are!" Alfred cooed.
"Where's the physician?" Ursula asked, impatiently.
"I don't know! Let's go find him!" Alfred said, addressing the infant in a sing-song voice.
He carried the baby out of the room and down the main hallway, telling him the name of every object he pointed at as
they went. Little Andy was overwhelmed by all of the shiny lamps lining the walls, the reflections on the floor, and of course his own reflection in every mirror they passed. He squealed and screamed in delight, utterly blown away by Alfred's glittering palace. Alfred began to see his home through the baby's eyes, and he laughed along with the small boy. He noticed that the two women were following him, which was a hindrance to his plan. He stopped outside the drawing room, and turned to them.
"If you two would be so kind as to wait in there," he said, "I will locate my physician and have my manservant fetch you when we're finished."
"Oh, no you don't," Ursula said, heatedly. "I've raised that baby since the day he was born; you aren't taking him anywhere without me."
"Oh? Well then, I suppose you will have to skip the luncheon that my cooks have prepared for all of my lovely—and unexpected—guests. I believe they're finishing up as we speak. The table should be ready for you in mere moments."
"Palace food," Mrs. Winters breathed. "Oh, let him go Ursula, he won't hurt the child, he's a prince! Come on, let's have some fun. We deserve it."
"Yes, mother," Ursula said. "But if you harm one hair on his head..."
"You have my word. The child will not be harmed. No he won't, no he won't!" Alfred trailed off as his attention was once more arrested by tiny fingers grabbing at his face.
"You see, Ursula, he's a natural. Come on, let's sit and wait in here. I want to catch up with your brother anyway."
"Ugh, do we have to?"
Alfred turned his back on the women and continued down the hallway, speaking gibberish to the baby who looked so much like Oscar. Alfred was utterly, completely, head-over-heels in love, and it was the purest, most innocent thing he had ever experienced. He ducked into an isolated little alcove, and picked up the phone hidden in a cupboard there.
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