by J. J. McAvoy
“You wouldn’t!”
He raised his right hand. “I swear on the Bible and the crown that I would.”
“Arthur, you know what that pig of a man does to her!”
“Oh,” he said with fake surprise and no compassion. “Did she call you weeping again? Is that why you lost your damn mind and decided to speak with her on an unsecured line?”
Closing my eyes, I did my best to calm down. “She was scared—”
“Then she should have called the police!”
“Arthur.”
“You are not her white knight! You are a goddamn prince of this nation! When will you get it? She is not leaving him. Why? Because she knows you can never marry her. She’d rather get beaten to a pulp than lose her status as a Lady of Belway. That is not our problem. That is not our fault. If you speak to her or have anything to do with her again, Gale, she will be gone by daybreak. Then I will go for Sabina. Then any other woman you want to test my patience with. One by one, I will find a reason to throw them to some corner of the globe. Do you want to be the reason their lives become worse?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying what I really wanted to say. “May I go now, Adelaar?
“Gale.” His tone softened as he sat forward. “You are my little brother. I love you, and I want you to be happy. I really do. But there are some lines we cannot cross.”
“So, in other words, I need to be happy within the realm of whatever the crown wants for me...like always. I understand, so once more, may I go?”
We stared each other down before he finally agreed.
“You may go.”
I turned to leave. However, he spoke again.
“You’ll need to pack, of course.”
I stopped right in front of the door. I should have known from his expression that he wasn’t finished with me yet.
“Pack?” I repeated, turning back to see him.
However, he was all of a sudden far too busy signing documents to meet my gaze.
“You wanted to spend some time with her, remember?”
“You are sending me to Sunshine?”
“Sunrise. She was born in Sunrise, Gale, at least get that correct. And no, I am sending you to Seattle, where she currently lives. Before you argue, remember the choice is yours. You or—”
“No need for threats.” I bit the side of my cheek again. “When do I leave?”
“Tonight.”
He could not be serious! But he was serious, and there was nothing left to say. This was the harshest punishment.
Opening the door, I walked right into...
“Father?” Arthur said from behind me, and I heard the screech of the chair as he rose immediately.
“Gale, what are you doing home?” my father questioned, sizing me up and down, his face stern. “I hope you did not run away again.”
What?
“No, Father,” Arthur called out. “He has the day off, so he came to visit us.”
Huh?
“Hmm,” he grumbled his disapproval as always. “You should be using that free time to study. Do not think for a moment that just because you’re a prince, they will just wave you through law school. You must set the example and elevate the standard.”
That was his motto. But I’d graduated from law school two years ago.
“I’ve spoken to his professors, and despite his antics, he is actually among the top of his class.” Arty came and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Among the top and at the top are two different things. You cannot always cover for him, Arthur.” He looked back to me, and I was frozen in place, too baffled and shocked by what I saw to speak. “What is the matter with you? You’re strangely quiet. Law has beaten all the buffoonery from you?”
Arty squeezed my shoulder slightly.
“Gale?” my father questioned again, this time, a flash of concern marked his face, and he leaned forward.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I blinked and shook my head. “Huh? Sorry, Father. You know I always take naps during your lectures. I finally managed to do it with my eyes open.”
The concern disappeared, and his face pulled into a sullen frown. “Must you always be a clown?”
“It’s either that or king.” I shrugged.
“Go back to school and stop bothering your brother.” He waved me off and moved to his desk. “Arthur, come. I’ll be looking over the Chart of Lords today. You should see who is among them now.”
“Of course,” Arty said to him.
When our eyes met, I saw the sadness in his eyes and had a feeling mine had the same. But he swallowed and then almost instantly forced a smile onto his face. He dusted off my shoulders and said, “Have fun but not too much fun. Make the best out of it.”
“Arthur!”
“Coming.” Arty let me go and went back to the desk, standing beside it as my father took his seat and put on his glasses. He looked over the papers before him and frowned.
“What is this? Why does this have Eduard Pyry as the Master of Chambers? Your mother chose Vincent? Where is he?”
He died eight months ago.
“On vacation, but don’t mind the rest. I was just imagining who would be next in line for all current positions,” Arty lied with ease as he reached over and picked up the files Father was reading. “I was hoping to discuss what you thought of it.”
“Hmm.” Father lifted his chin, holding the paper closer to his face. “These are some good choices. But do not be in a rush to take over, son. Your time as king will come. Don’t push me out of my seat yet.”
“I would never dream of it!” Arty laughed.
“Everyone dreams of it—Gale, you are still here?” Father peered over his glasses to look at me. “Stop goofing around.”
“The spare is just leaving. Sorry for intruding where I am not wanted.” It hurt to joke like this when he was clearly not in his right mind. I looked once more to Arty before stepping out.
“Gale, you are always wanted. Spare or not. So, do not forget to see your mother and sister before you leave.”
The tightness in my chest returned, and I only nodded before finally closing the door. When I did, I leaned back against it. This was real.
My father was really ill.
I knew what was at stake. I truly did, but yesterday, the more I had thought about it, the more I could not imagine just marrying some random woman. Divorces were easy for other nobles, but for royals, it could only be done under the most extreme circumstances—like one of them committing treason. Even if a prince found his wife in the midst of an affair, he still had to get permission from the king and parliament...then there were the people.
But my father was ill.
Once again, I felt a familiar ache in my chest. I didn’t want to speak to or see anyone. I didn’t want to think. I just walked, paying no attention to the world around me until I got into my room. I hoped to lie down, but instead, I found my mother, putting something into the zipper pocket of black luggage that I hadn’t bothered to pack myself. Valets laid out suits, shirts, belts, and shoes onto my bed.
“He may need a coat as well. Bring the wools. The caramel one, as well as the dark gray, should be fine,” Mother directed.
“Can I not pack for myself?” I asked.
Though it seemed, I was not going to be given a choice throughout this whole process. Arty had just told me of his command to leave, but for her to already be here meant they had discussed it beforehand.
My mother glanced at me surprised, despite the fact that it was my room. “Weren’t you staying with your brother?”
Well, not all morning. Arthur must have covered for me again.
“Father came.”
Her face fell, but she held her composure, clasping her hands together and turning on her heels. “We shall have the room.”
They bowed once to her and then me before taking a single step back and turning.
“How was he?” she asked gently. “Your father.”
&nbs
p; “He asked me what I was doing home and not at law school.”
She closed her eyes for a long time and just stood still.
Walking up to her, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders. The scent of lavender filled my nose.
“Enough. We do not have time to be despondent. There is too much to do. We need to carry on and fill any gaps. For both your father’s and brother’s sakes.” She sniffled and stepped out of my arms. “I’ve had them pack several of your favorites. Plus, jeans and other casual wear. I hear Americans prefer casual dress. Though the suits might be for any formal events—”
“Mom, are you breathing?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course, I’m breathing,” she answered, looking over my bags. She reached over and dusted off one of my shoes. “Do you think you will return before Christmas?.”
“I literally found out I was leaving five minutes ago. Is when I return really up to me?”
“No, I guess not. It is up to your ability to gain acceptance of this marriage,” she stated, counting my clothes.
“Mom—”
“Please!” she yelled but then held herself back. “I beg of you, Gale. Do not complain to me. I do not have the strength for it. Everyone’s shoulders are heavy. Everyone is uncomfortable. We are all looking for someone to save us, but no one will come because we are the people who must do the saving.”
I got quiet for a moment before pointing to the bed. “I was merely going to say there is a hole in that jacket.”
She frowned and then picked up the jacket, turning it from side to side. “Where? I don’t see it?”
I stepped around the frame to stand beside her and pointed to the front of the jacket. “Here, where your beauty burned into it,” I said, a slow grin spreading across my face.
She threw the jacket back down and smacked my chest. “You are ridiculous!” She giggled.
Putting my arm around her, I nodded. “Yes, this woman obviously has no idea what is coming her way.”
“A handsome prince.” She grinned, placing her hand on my cheek. “This is going to do us all good. We can solve this problem before the third one comes.”
“Mom, please do not say that.” I sighed. The one thing I hated about our people was how superstitious everyone was.
“Why? You know misfortunes come in threes for this family. First your father, then the money—”
“Mother,” I whispered, putting my hand on her shoulder. “You are the queen of this nation. You cannot think like that. I promise I will do my best not to let you down so long as you think positively.”
She inhaled, her shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Thank you, Gale.”
I nodded.
“Oh, I forgot to send word to the kitchen for dinner. We’ll have your favorite before you leave, all right?”
“Bless you.”
She giggled again. “I’ll go. Keep packing.”
“I will.”
She looked everything over once more before taking leave. Reaching for the bag I saw next to her earlier, I checked the zipper pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
I didn’t have a choice.
They’d all decided already.
I was getting married. They would see to it by any means necessary. When the crown wanted something, it got it.
All my arguing was just a waste of air.
So I would stop arguing.
I’d go and pray to God Almighty she wasn’t unbearable.
Chapter 5
“In the dimmest light, at the height of freight, when nothing goes right, and all you feel is pain, I’ll be at your side—no. Let’s start from the top again. I messed up,” I said into the microphone.
“Maybe we should take a break?”
“No.” I lifted one of the headphones from my ear and glanced at the producer behind the glass. “We want to finish this song today.”
“Are you okay?” he asked me.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You seem...off. And...it’s not bad at all. You aren’t hitting the note the way you want, but with a little—”
“No auto-tune.”
“Okay, but at least give your voice a break because you apparently don’t like how you sound.”
“And you shouldn’t, either. You sound like someone is waterboarding you with vodka and salt,” my mother so eloquently—and loudly—said into the mic, causing me to flinch.
“Mom, I’m working here.”
“Keep working then. I’m not stopping you. Right, guys?” she said to everyone in the studio.
Taking off my headphones completely, I hung them on the stand before I marched around the wire, out of the booth, and into the studio. She sat like the Pink Panther herself, in a fitted, pink leather dress, eating popcorn from a bowl.
“Why did you come out, sweetheart? You aren’t finished,” she had the audacity to say.
My eyes narrowed at the sickly sweet tone of her voice. Ever since our little discussion last night, I felt on edge. No, more specifically, I felt stressed because I was sure she hadn’t given up. However, she didn’t bring it up and acted as if she hadn’t tried to secretly marry me off to some royal.
“Let’s take five, guys.” I shot a glance around the studio, and one by one, my producer, mixer, and my agent all quickly picked up their phones and walked out.
“I brought some snacks for you all. Please help yourselves.” Wilhelmina leaned over her chair to call out behind me. She focused on me, lifting the bowl toward me. “Try this. It is so good and—”
“Is your plan to destroy my career so that I have zero income? And I’m forced to accept?” I asked her, crossing my arms.
“That’s overly dramatic.” She laughed at me, tossing popcorn into her mouth.
“You are overly dramatic, so it fits,” I reminded her. “It’s way too soon for you to give up. I know you. But, Mom, let’s not do this now. We’re at the studio—”
“Look at you all tense. I’m not here for that. I wanted to remind you about the Halloween party.”
“Halloween party?”
“The Wyntor Foundation Halloween fundraiser for the Children’s Hospitals of America?”
“Oh, right! I completely forgot today was Halloween!” Crap! I checked my watch. Between the lawyers and work, I hadn’t had time to even buy anything. “I don’t have a costume, and the kids really like it when we dress up.”
“I knew you’d forget, so I got you one.” She nodded to the black bag and a box sitting on the couch, neither of which I’d noticed.
“Really? Thank you,” I said, moving around her to the couch. Unzipping the bag, the first thing I saw was a long, light-blue ball gown covered in sparkles at the bottom. “Mom—”
“The theme this year is Disney. What’s better than Cinderella? I managed to get the actual costume designer from the movie. Check the box. They made you a glass slipper, too. Not actual glass but close enough.” She sounded like a parent at Christmas.
Smirking, I lifted the lid of the box, and sure enough, there was a pair of glass slippers...well, faux-glass pumps. They were beautiful. That wasn’t just it, though. There was also a tiara, and it looked more expensive than everything put together in the room.
“You like it?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “I do, but I could have gone as Tiana.”
“Ever since you saw Brandy as her, your favorite has always been Cinderella. God, do you know how many times you sang, ‘Impossible; It’s Possible.’ Oh, I can feel the headache coming.”
“I remember.” It was my generation’s Frozen. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
“See, I have my moments. Now, I’ll go and let you go back to your all-important work. I’ll come to get you later,” she said, rising from the chair and taking her popcorn with her. She really did have her moments.
“Mom?”
“I’m going. I’m going—”
“No. I wanted to say thank you.”
She always had my back whenever it came to things like this.
“I know you’re still planning something but—”
“Do you not know me at all by now, Odette? Normally, the moment you stop thinking I’m up to something is when I pounce. But with you, I plan on slowly bringing you around to my side. Even if it takes weeks.”
“Good luck with that. I told you, I’m not budging on this.” It was my life, not some game she was playing.
“We’ll see. Now put some emotion in that voice. I want to hear vibrato, darling.” She shook her hand in front of herself, a new dramatic accent coming up.
“You should have been an actress, Mom.” I shook my head, closing the box. “Or, at the very least, a high school drama teacher.” She would have fit either part perfectly.
“What do you think being a mom is? I play a dozen roles before breakfast.” She winked at me and opened the door, leaning out to yell. “All clear, gentlemen! The singerzilla is all yours.”
She stood outside the door, holding it open for them as they came back, hunched over plates of desserts. They all thanked her one by one as they returned, gleefully. She just winked at them. “I’ll come back to pick you up at eight o’clock. I need to pick up some things for tonight.”
“Okay.”
“Godspeed, gentlemen,” she said and waved to them and left.
I turned back to see them all waving. “I am not a singerzilla, am I?”
“Why don’t we start at the top?” my producer replied, clearly ignoring my question and putting on his headphones.
“Traitors.” And for cake no less.
“Of all the holidays I needed to experience twice, why did it have to be Halloween?” I whispered to Iskandar—my bodyguard while I was on this little adventure. “Why would anyone think dressing children as devils is fun?”
My comment was in reference to the woman who stood in front of us at customs and immigration and held her big-headed child. He or she—seeing as I couldn’t tell the difference at this point—was dressed in all red with little devil horns just staring at me over its mother’s shoulder.
“I do not believe the devil truly looks like that, Your Highness,” Iskandar whispered back, staring at me with his dark eyes. He quickly skipped over me to watch each person who came too close, which must have been stressful since everyone in this line was too damn close.