Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5

by McKenna James

  “Would you care to walk about the gardens?” I asked.

  Alison nodded. “I’d love that.”

  I made my way around the table and took hold of the handles on Alison’s wheelchair. I turned her around and pressed forward, the gravel path crunching beneath us as we strolled. It was a little difficult to push her on the uneven path, but the exertion was well worth it if I could see Alison smile.

  The house attendants followed behind us at a reasonable distance, at the ready to assist should we require it. They knew better than to ask if we needed help. Our household staff was a lot smaller now that it was just me and Alison. Whenever we had the kids over, who would also bring our grandchildren along, the villa would practically explode from all the activity. But right now, we weren’t thinking about anything else other than each other. We walked in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet.

  There was a marble fountain in the center of the garden, the little cherub statue atop the three tiers illuminated by golden lights. The glow bounced off of the trickling water, painting the nearby bushes a wavy, ever-moving pattern. I parked Alison’s wheelchair next to the base of the fountain, close enough that she could lean over and dip her hand in the cool water. I sat on the edge of the marble and reached down to pluck a pink water lily from out of the fountain. I handed the flower to my wife, who brought it slowly to her nose to sniff. The flower didn’t hold a candle to my lovely wife’s beauty.

  “What would you like to do tomorrow? Anything in particular?”

  “As long as I get to spend the day with you, I don’t much mind, dear.”

  “Maybe we can get started on that knitting project. The one for Ava’s daughter.”

  “You mean the baby blanket?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Alison raised a curious eyebrow. “You want to help me knit it?”

  I laughed. “I mean, I’ll probably be more trouble than help, but yes. I’d like to give our newest granddaughter something handmade.”

  She placed her hand on my lap and patted my thigh. “Okay, dear. We’ll get started in the morning. Just remember to take an aspirin. I don’t want your arthritis flaring up.”

  “Arthritis? Me?” I joked. “I’m a young stallion. Arthritis has nothing on me.”

  Alison leaned back in her wheelchair and laughed. “Very true, very true.” She cleared her throat, but wound up coughing up a storm. I stood and reached around to pat her on the back. Alison waved me away, still as stubborn as ever. “I’m fine.”

  “It’s getting a little chilly. Maybe we should go inside.”

  “I said I’m fine, dear. There’s no need to worry. I’d like to stay outside for a little longer, if possible. It’s been so long since we watched the stars.”

  I slipped my jacket off and draped it over her shoulders before taking my seat. We both looked up at the night sky, admiring the sprinkling of lights above us. The soft glow of the moon highlighted the linings of passing clouds. A warm summer breeze whistled past us, rustling through the leaves of the nearby woods. I held Alison’s hands in my own and gave her fingers a light squeeze. She was and always would be my reason for being.

  “I love you, Alison,” I said for no other reason than because I could.

  She giggled, her voice the tiniest bit raspy. “I love you too, Sebastian.”

  I leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, just as I had a million times before, and just as I would a million times after.

  THE END.

  HER ROYAL PHYSICIAN

  1

  Giselle

  Even though I wanted to scream, I didn’t. I was pretty sure there was a rule against princesses raising their voices when in polite company. In general, really. No cursing, no shouting, no laughing too boisterously. My old tutors back home would have scolded me if they ever heard my voice above a certain level of decibels. I could have sworn they carried little volume measuring devices with them, because they never failed to wag their disapproving fingers at me if they so much as overheard me sneeze two rooms over.

  So, when the first explosions violently shook the foundation of the villa, all my years of etiquette lessons gave me enough self-control to release the tiniest of gasps behind my hand.

  Yes, I was the epitome of ladylike.

  And pardon my saying so, but this whole princess-and-future-queen schtick was really starting to cramp my style.

  The first explosion was quickly followed up with three or four more. It was hard to tell because they happened in quick succession, overlapping with one another and echoing into the night. My father and I were in the middle of eating supper when the bombs started dropping. It was Nathanial, my father’s private secretary, who rushed into the dining hall to confirm everything.

  “King Maximillian, the Pramorian Empire has declared war on Weles,” he said quickly, but solemnly. “Air traffic has been banned. I have arranged a transportation via ship for you and Princess Giselle to head back home, but we must hurry.”

  Nathanial was a severe man. In all the years that I’d known him, I’d only ever seen him smile twice. Once when he found out he’d been promoted to the position of the king’s private secretary, and once when he received a stack of rare first edition novels for his fortieth birthday. He was always dressed in dark, tight clothes. I sometimes wondered if he was bitter and cold because the leather shoes he wore were too tight and uncomfortable.

  I looked at my father, who’d been sitting directly beside me at the dinner table. His head was balding, and what little hair he had left was turning silver. His bushy eyebrows and well-trimmed beard were almost the same shade of grey. His face was paler than usual, almost ashen. I couldn’t tell if it was because of his age, or if he was genuinely frightened to hear the news that Pramoria had broken their treaty with our allies, the Kingdom of Weles. The whole reason Father and I were even visiting Weles was to celebrate the peace negotiations.

  Short-lived negotiations.

  From out the massive dining hall window, I could see a streak of fire against the Welesian capital’s skyline. A plume of dark smoke erupted over tall buildings, dangerous flickers of orange and red licking upward as fire spread. The night sky up above was cloudy and dark, but when I squinted, I could make out the faint outline of a squadron approaching from the east. The bomber planes were almost impossible to see if not for the faint glow of the silver moon cracking through black clouds.

  I turned to my father and frowned. “We can’t just leave. Weles needs us.”

  Father rose from his chair, dinner long since forgotten. “There is nothing we can do, Princess.”

  He liked to call me princess as a pet name. It just so happened to also be the correct title.

  “What do you mean there’s nothing we can do? We can’t just abandon their people.”

  Father raised a hand, cutting me off. There wasn’t anything harsh about the gesture, he just needed me to be quiet. “Your safety is my only priority. Besides. There’s nothing we can do because we’re out of our jurisdiction. If we don’t leave now, we could be caught in the crossfire.” He turned to Nathanial sharply. “Lead the way.”

  We didn’t have any time to pack our things. It wasn’t like we’d brought anything with us that wasn’t replaceable. The second we stepped out of the dining hall, Father and I were greeted by several members of our cover security operations team. They ushered us out the back entrance where two black armored SUV were waiting. Father and I got into the back seats, Nathanial up front, while the rest of our security detail got into the follow car. The second the doors closed shut behind us, our driver slammed on the gas pedal. The vehicle lurched forward urgently, tires squealing in protest against the cobblestone driveway.

  The attacks didn’t cease. Over the vicious grumbling of the SUV’s engine, I could hear the whistling of bombs being dropped over the city. We were far enough away that our lives weren’t immediately being threatened, but we were still close enough to be concerned. One miscalculated drop, one strong push from the wind
could line a bomb right over our heads. The wailing of horns off in the distance pierced through the quiet of the night, alerting residents to take shelter until emergency services could arrive. The haunting call of air raid sirens sent a shiver down my spine.

  Through the window, I saw all of the destruction that rained down on the Welesian people. Buildings were crumbling to dust while fires ravaged whatever was left. People scurried about frantically, unsure where their loved ones were. Some families were arguing with one another outside their burning homes, debating whether or not to stay hidden in their basements, take as much of their belongings as they could, or to simply run for nearby shelter. It hadn’t been very long since Weles and the Pramorian Empire had drafted their peace treaty, so there were still a number of bomb shelters up and running that they could turn to.

  We obviously had teams of people making sure that it was safe enough for us to travel abroad. Father and I naturally would have never made the trip had we had any inkling of knowledge that the Empire would attack. If something were to happen to either of us, if we were caught in the bombings and were killed, there was no on left in our family to take over the throne. It would have been chaos for Idolia. At best, the throne would fall to some distant cousin who didn’t understand our language or culture, leaving our people to struggle under the sudden shift in power. At worst, the Empire could see our deaths as an opportunity to swoop in and take over our land, once again leaving our people in someone else’s mercy.

  I knew my father was right.

  There was nothing I could do to help, no matter how much I wanted to. We needed to escape, and we needed to escape now.

  We made it to the docks in record time. Weles was a small island nation, so it wasn’t as though traveling across would take us very much time. Weles had just undergone a major shift in power, having elected a new prime minister within the last month or so. It was the main reason Father and I visited in the first place. As future Queen of Idolia, it was my duty to meet with leaders and important dignitaries. Father believed that since Weles’ political state was beginning to steady, now would have been as good a time as any to introduce me.

  It was my father’s idea, of course. Reputation and outward appearances were everything. If I had my way, I would have spent my time partying, meeting handsome men, dancing all night, and shopping to my heart’s content. But such was the life of a future ruler. My life was not my own to live. And naturally, just as I was beginning to adjust to the time zone and really take in the sights and the unique culture of the Welesian capital, the Pramorian Empire just had to turn back on their end of the treaty and ruin all my fun.

  I was supposed to be headed to an extravagant ball later that evening, hosted by the Welesian Royal Family in our honor. I was supposed to be all dressed up in my pretty ballgown of golden fabric, jewels in my hair, dancing the night away with esteemed guest after esteemed guest. Father had promised me it was going to be an elegant fair, full of delicious banquet food, wonderous music, and an endless sea of interesting people for us to meet. Unfortunately, it looked as though those plans were going to be very much on hold –if the venue wasn’t already a smoldering pile of ash.

  We were ushered onto the ship quickly. The scent of salty sea water and fish filled my nose and left me a bit dizzy. The ship was a massive thing, though I wasn’t able to identify what kind it was. It was painted grey, the Idolia Royal Crest pressed to its side in vibrant colors. Just to the right of my family’s crest was the ships name: Obsidian Vow. As we climbed up the ramp to board the ship, several planes flew over us. My heart froze in my chest for a moment, but I instantly breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that they were painted in Welesian colors. I held on tight to the ramp’s metal railing for support. Last evening’s rain had left every surface on the dock slippery and treacherous.

  “We were lucky,” said Nathanial as he helped Father onto the ship. “The Obsidian Vow happened to be making a pitstop at this port for refueling. I’ve already spoken with the captain. He has arranged for the ship to return home immediately.”

  My father grunted. It was the noise he made when he approved. And also when he disapproved. Sometimes it was hard for even me to tell the difference.

  Just as I was about to step onto the deck, my foot slipped out from beneath me. I landed with a harsh thump. A shooting pain spread from my right ankle, the sensation of pins and needles spreading through me quickly. The terrible throbbing in my leg that followed was enough to knock the air out of my lungs and force tears to well up in the corners of my eyes. All I wanted to do was start crying, but I fought against the urge.

  Girls were allowed to cry. Future queens were not.

  Several security personnel offered me their hands, attending to my little stumble. Father had heard me land and had turned to take care of me.

  “Are you alright, Princess?” he asked.

  “Um, yes,” I mumbled. I attempted to get up on my own, but the pain was too great. I looked down to see that my ankle was already red and swollen. “I think I hurt myself.”

  “May I be of some help to you?” came a man’s voice.

  I looked up to find someone squeezing his way past my security team, hand outstretched. I swallowed at the dry lump in my throat as my eyes widened in pure, stunned amazement. The man before me was dressed in an Idolian Royal Navy Guard uniform, though he didn’t exactly strike me as a soldier. The deep blue of his pressed blazer and pants helped bring out the brilliance of his kind, bluish-green eyes. The longer I stared, the more the color of his eyes reminded me of the emerald-encrusted crown I was to one day wear as ruler. They also reminded me of the foamy seas we were sailing, when the light caught it just right and illuminated all of the plant life just below the water’s surface.

  My cheeks flushed with heat when I realized that everyone was staring because I hadn’t said anything for a good couple of minutes. When I slipped and fell, did I happen to hit my head too? It was the only explanation I could come up with that would explain my distractedness. That, and because the man was the epitome of handsome. . What was a man like him doing in a dreary place like this?

  He was a lieutenant, judging by the stripes sewn into the shoulder of his blazer. And judging by the white armband wrapped around his left bicep, emblazoned with a giant red cross, I guessed that he was a doctor. He wore his dirty blond hair cropped short, though I imagined that was because he had to adhere to the Idolian Navy’s strict dress code rather than a fashionable choice. Either way, his clean-shaven look really made the sharpness of his jaw standout.

  For the briefest moment, I wanted to know if his face felt as hard and chiseled as it looked.

  I finally managed to gather up enough common sense to answer, “Um, yes, please.” I reached up and noted how perfectly our hands seemed to slip together. A perfect fit.

  2

  Leo

  I was taking care of last-minute preparations before we set sail. My superior officer had informed me and the rest of the crew that we would no longer be continuing our mission to patrol the waters north of Weles. Instead, we were turning around within the hour to head home in light of the Pramorian Empire’s act of aggression. It was true that Obsidian Vow was a battleship, but we didn’t have enough supplies or ammunition to last very long in the region. We were only heading north to keep the peace along Pramorian-Welesian cargo trade routes.

  Now that the Pramorian Empire seemed dead set on wiping Weles off the face of the map, there was no point in acting as arbitrators. The Obsidian Vow was an old girl, one that wouldn’t survive facing off against the Pramorian Empire’s larger, newer navy. To most people, it was boring political drivel. But to everyone on this ship, it impacted our lives in more ways than one. Whether we went to war or retreated was entirely up to those in power. The only smart thing to do was to return home for the time being where we would await orders, preparing for the worst and hoping for the best.

  There was a nervous tension in the air. The crew was uncharacteristically
quiet. I assumed the news of war had shaken many, even though we were seasoned Navy officers. It was only when I learned the reason we were stalled at port that I finally realized why everyone seemed so on edge. We were awaiting the arrival of His Royal Majesty, King Maximillian, and his only daughter and heir apparent, Princess Giselle. Our mission home wasn’t going to be so simple. We were carrying the two most important people of our nation. No words were spoken, but our crew understood the gravity of the situation.

  We had to make it home in one piece, no matter what.

  I happened to step onto the deck, on my way to report to my supervisor, Lieutenant Commander Briggs. I had taken extensive stock of the medical supplies we still had on board. As long as sailing was smooth and we didn’t run into any unnecessary conflicts, I was sure we had enough to make it back to Idolia. We were, admittedly, running slightly low on seasickness pills. The cadets were especially susceptible to spilling their guts, and the waters had been less than kind to us in recent days as we charged forward to port. I just had to cross my fingers and hope that the newer cadets could handle the stormy seas ahead of us.

  No amount of training could really prepare a person for life on the waters. It was an isolated existence, despite being surrounded by comrades. Out there, where the nearest bit of land was miles and miles away—a dot on the horizon—you could sometimes feel like you were alone in the world. There was nothing but the sound of crashing water against the ship and the howl of wind to keep you company. I would normally argue that you always had your shipmates to talk to, but any person willing to spend their life cramped on a ship for months on end usually weren’t the best friends you could make.