Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5

by McKenna James

  I was thankful to have such great friends who were willing to pull me out of my funk. I really didn’t know what I would do if I didn’t have Oliver or Brandon by my side. After losing Rodrigo, I couldn’t bear to lose them too.

  The hours grew incredibly long as we went through movie after movie. At some point, Oliver had the kitchen bring us up a massive bowl of butter-covered popcorn and a huge plate of chocolate biscuits. I actually started to enjoy myself, which was the first time in days. Brandon, Oliver, and I somehow started watching The Princess Diaries 2, laughing at how Cat Woman literally just stomped Captain Kirk’s foot flat while Gimli and Mary Poppins watched in dismay. The whole scene actually made me laugh.

  Why was it that crying and laughing sometimes felt like the exact same thing?

  And that was when the flood gates unleashed.

  One second I was perfectly fine, and then the next I was heartbroken. Maybe it was the irony of watching two rivals for the Genovian throne struggling with their feelings for one another while putting their duty to their family and people above their own interests that set me off. That was probably it.

  Oliver hushed me calmly as he braided my hair while Brandon rubbed my upper back, not knowing quite what to say.

  “They belong together,” I wailed. “Why can’t they just be together?”

  Oliver glanced at Brandon, clearly stressed. “They get together in the end,” he explained. “You just have to wait for things to play out.”

  “If they’re meant to be, they’re meant to be,” said Brandon.

  I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “You make it sound so simple.”

  “I mean, in the grand scheme of things, maybe it is,” said Oliver. “Sacrifices have to be made, but Mia ends up with both her country and her man. She just needed to think a little outside the box.”

  I inhaled slowly and willed my heart to calm down. Maybe that’s what I needed to do, too—think outside the box. My mind had been clouded with only two drastic options. Either I would remain loyal to my family and their interests and stay away from Rodrigo, or I would turn my back against the Crown and be with the man I loved. But what if there was a third option? What if I could be like the amazing Mia Thermopolis and have both? There just had to be a way to keep my throne and Rodrigo. Why did I need to choose one over the other?

  I couldn’t really discuss this with my parents. They’d made their stance perfectly clear. Perhaps what I really needed was a devil’s advocate, someone to help me see the other side of things so I could find a better middle ground.

  I sat up straight in bed, determination buzzing at the base of my skull. “I need to go,” I said calmly.

  Brandon raised an eyebrow at me. “Go? Where?”

  “I want to speak to Senator Sabatino.”

  Oliver and Brandon exchanged a skeptical look, but I’d already sprung out of bed.

  Never in a million years did I think I’d be visiting Togveld Fortress for a second time in less than a month. It was just as dim and grimy as I remembered it. I really wanted to make this a quick visit. If I couldn’t stand being here as a visitor, I could only pity the poor souls who were locked up here. When I was in charge one day, I’d make sure that even prisoners lived in decent conditions. Nobody deserved to decay in a place like this.

  Once again, the warden was underprepared, sweating profusely in his nervousness.

  “I really wish you’d call ahead,” he grumbled.

  I chose to ignore him. “I’m just visiting an inmate. It won’t take long.”

  I was shown to the same room where I met Rodrigo. They’d opened a window this time around, so it wasn’t as stuffy. I picked at my fingers anxiously, trying to organize my thoughts. What was I going to say to the man who stabbed my father? How hostile was he going to be toward me now that he was locked behind bars, his son and wife exiled?

  Two burly guards escorted Senator Sabatino into the room. He was dressed in the same bright orange prison uniform that Rodrigo had been wearing. The only difference was that the Senator had on twice as many restraints, keeping both his wrists and ankles chained together to prevent full mobility. It had been a long time since I last saw the Senator. I was honestly startled to see how much he’d changed.

  When I was a little girl, I used to sit on this man’s lap and listen to him tell me and Rodrigo stories. I remembered Senator Sabatino being a kind man, always laughing. The person standing before me was different. He wore a permanent scowl, his hair had thinned significantly, and his cheeks were hollow. As angry and bitter as he looked, I knew he didn’t pose an immediate threat to me. The Senator was smaller, weaker. His time spent locked up had weakened his disposition and muted his rage.

  The Senator sat across the table from me, raking me over with his eyes.

  The same beautiful blue eyes as Rodrigo’s, but more jaded.

  “Princess Marina,” he greeted gruffly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

  “What were you hoping to achieve by revolting against my family?”

  Senator Sabatino chuckled bitterly. “Just like your father. Always cutting to the chase.”

  “I’m serious, Senator. I want to know. Throwing a rebellion is one thing. But what comes after?”

  He glared at me, adversarial. “Why would you care what I have to say? The King clearly doesn’t.”

  “I’m not my father.”

  Senator Sabatino slumped in his seat, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked me over, probably making a study of me. “The people need more power,” he said after a moment. “This kingdom used to be great. Brooklandia was leading economically, politically, culturally. And then your father got lazy, all offense intended.”

  I said nothing despite the slight against Father. If I interrupted now, Senator Sabatino could choose to stop talking entirely.

  He continued, “It’s not that I want your family to fail or for you to step down. I know you must think I’m crazy, that what I did was drastic. It was, there’s no denying that. But I only did it because desperate times call for desperate measures. The people have been ignored for far too long, and people do stupid things when they’ve been ignored. They’re hungry, they’re overworked, and they’re underpaid. Employment levels are at an all-time low, and small businesses don’t get enough monetary support. The economy’s stalling, and that’s only going to hurt those sitting at the bottom of the class ladder.”

  “I understand your motivations,” I said clearly, “but not your plan. If you overthrew my father, what did you intend to do afterward?”

  The Senator sighed. “I was playing with the idea of a constitutional monarchy.”

  “We already have a constitutional monarchy,” I pointed out.

  “Not an effective one. The Royal Family can keep their Crown, but more power needs to be transferred to Parliament. We’re the ones who are elected to represent the people, so let us do exactly that. As it stands, the King has too much say in the everyday running of things, and it’s not effective. Your father chooses the easier issues to focus on and ignores everything else. He’s too confident, and he’s been riding on the success of past years. Times have changed, Princess. The way he’s running the kingdom now just isn’t sustainable.”

  I sat there in silence, allowing the Senator’s words to truly sink in. “You’re an incredibly persuasive speaker, Senator Sabatino,” I commented.

  His expression softened slightly. “That’s very kind of you, Princess Marina. You’re quite a good listener.”

  “I’m going to be Queen one day,” I mumbled. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened to my father to happen to me.”

  “That’s awfully wise of you.”

  I nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

  A beat of silence weighed heavily over the both of us. Things were awkward, but not entirely uncomfortable.

  “Was that really why you wanted to visit me, Princess Marina? To ask me about my failed plans?”

  I nibbled my bottom lip
in thought. “No,” I admitted. “I… I wanted some advice.”

  Senator Sabatino appeared genuinely surprised. “You want advice from the man who tried to kill your father?”

  “I don’t think you were trying to kill him. Scare him, maybe.”

  “You sound pretty confident.”

  “If you really wanted to kill him, there are easier ways to do it. You could have sliced his neck open, stabbed him in the chest. But you got him in the arm. That’s hardly lethal.”

  “Maybe I’m just not as adept in fighting as I like to believe.”

  “You were friends once,” I said firmly. “Like you said, people do stupid things when they’ve been ignored long enough.”

  Something akin to shame and embarrassment flashed across the Senator’s face. I couldn’t help but pity him. The kind and gentle man I remembered was still in there somewhere, hidden beneath a cloak of treachery for the sake of survival. I knew the Senator couldn’t be all bad.

  “You said you needed advice,” he mumbled. “About what?”

  I swallowed. “It’s about your son,” I said, heartbeats picking up speed.

  “Rodrigo? What about him?”

  “I need a third option. And I think you’re just the person to help me find it.”

  19

  Rodrigo

  One month later

  I wasn’t adjusting as well as I hoped I would. Mother seemed to be doing alright, all things considered. Maybe that was why I felt a sting of jealousy every time I came home from my morning lectures. Things almost seemed normal at home. I found her humming quietly to herself in the kitchen as she prepared lunch. It was a happy little tune, an old Brooklandian nursery song.

  It made me awfully homesick to hear.

  I placed my backpack down on the kitchen table, alerting Mother of my presence. She did a little hop, startled.

  “How was class?” she asked chipperly. Being away from Brooklandia had done wonders for her mood. She was almost like her old self again, before all the politics and power struggle morphed into something unrecognizable.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “It was okay.”

  “Hungry? I made goulash with sausage. Your favorite!”

  I forced a smile. “Thank you, Mother.”

  She placed a big bowl of goulash on the table before me and ruffled my hair. She used to make this exact dish for me and Marina when we were children. When the weather was cold outside, she’d not only prepare this special meal, but she’d make us a big mug of hot cocoa topped with fluffy whipped cream. It was a weird combination of flavors, but it was my favorite as a little boy.

  Now hot chocolate just gave me a stomachache.

  I looked about the apartment as I ate. Mother had gone all out to decorate it. She managed to score a job as a private tutor for a couple students attending St. George’s Preparatory School for Boys, having used my old classmate connections. The pay was fairly impressive, considering the scandal surrounding my family name. Mother handled herself well, though, never accepting a pay rate less than what she deserved.

  I was having a much harder time. My fellow classmates at law school were all incredibly adept and knowledgeable. Most of them had heard of about the failed rebellion, about how the Sabatinos were disgraced. I did my best to ignore the gossip, focused on my work. I had to take things day by day, concentrate on the tasks at hand instead of succumbing to the rumors. I didn’t like the unnecessary attention, but what could I do?

  Oliver had texted me a couple times since I’d left. It was pretty standard stuff, asking how I was doing and whatnot. I tried putting on a brave face, told him I was doing fine.

  But that was the furthest thing from the truth.

  I felt like part of me was missing, like my organs were all mixed up and in the wrong place. I just felt displaced, both figuratively and literally. The fact that I was never going to go back to Brooklandia weighed heavily on me. It meant I’d never see her again, and I didn’t know if I could handle the pain.

  Some days were worse than others. I’d start awake, breaking into a cold sweat every time I dreamed about Marina. My dreams were never particularly eventful. It was just the image of her in my mind’s eye that left me feeling absolutely heartbroken. It was like my soul was torn, shredded into a million little pieces. I was really starting to understand those stories about old married couples who’d die within days of each other. The loneliness I was living through—it was just too much.

  “How is it?” asked Mother, a smile upon her lips.

  “Good,” I mumbled quietly.

  My mother didn’t say anything, but I could see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side.

  “Are you feeling alright? You look a little ill. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

  “I’m fine, Mother.”

  Unconvinced, she pressed on. “I ran into a very nice young lady at the supermarket today.”

  “Mhmm,” I mumbled, not really paying attention. I teased a piece of sauce-drenched macaroni onto one of the tines of my fork.

  “I told her about you. She gave me her number, if you’re interested.”

  Her words just weren’t registering in my mind. “Mhmm,” I mumbled again. “That’s nice, Mother.”

  She walked over slowly and sat down beside me at the table. “You didn’t hear a word of that, did you?”

  “What?” I asked, snapping to. “Oh, um… No, thanks. I’m not really interested in seeing anyone right now.” It’s too soon. I’m not ready. “Final exams are around the corner. I have to study.” I’m not ready to move on.

  Mother placed a hand on my forearm. Her touch was gentle, alarmingly so. I wasn’t used to this kind of affection. I looked to her, confused to see her brows knitted together and her lips pressed into a thin, pensive line. I recognized the pity in her eyes and hated every second of it.

  “You weren’t kidding,” she whispered. “When you said you loved the Princess. You weren’t kidding, were you?”

  I swallowed and shook my head. “I don’t feel like having this conversation,” I said. It’s too hard.

  Mother opened and closed her mouth, like she was about to say something but decided against it. She patted me once more on the forearm before getting up again, returning to the kitchen to dish herself some lunch.

  At that exact moment, three sharp knocks sounded at the front door.

  “I think that’s Mrs. Wilson. She said she was going to drop off some of her cookies. Will you get that, dear?”

  I nodded and rose from my seat, maneuvering around the grey leather couch in the living room to get to the front door. I opened it wide, fully expecting to see a little old woman with a head of grey hair.

  Instead, someone wrapped their arms around my neck and flung themselves at me, throwing me off balance. I landed on my back in the entrance hallway, too stunned to speak. My heart leaped into my throat and lodged itself there as the familiar scent of rose perfume hit my nose, and the gentle glow of blindingly bright blonde hair swept before my eyes. I had to be dreaming. There was no way this was real. Maybe I tripped down the steps of the lecture hall’s presentation atrium and hit my head, and now I was hallucinating.

  “M-Marina?” I breathed.

  She pulled away, smiling bright and giggling. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and the corners of her eyes were crinkling. She laughed giddily before she leaned down to kiss me. Her lips were so soft and cloud-like that I barely registered the kiss. I was definitely hallucinating because this was too good to be true.

  I didn’t dare touch her. I was scared that if I put my hands on her waist, if I tried to kiss her back, I’d go right through her like smoke.

  “Hi,” she said shakily, voice brimming with excitement. “Miss me?”

  I stared at her for an eternity, mouth hanging open in a mix of confusion and shock. Slowly, I raised a hand and brushed my fingers over her cheek. She didn’t disappear like I thought she wou
ld.

  “You’re really here,” I whispered in disbelief. “What are… How?” We both scrambled to our feet, but we didn’t part. Her arms were still circled around my neck as I hesitantly wrapped my arms around her waist. I shook my head. “You can’t be here. What about your guards?”

  “I ditched them a few blocks back,” she said with pride.

  “Marina, I can’t– They’ll throw me back in jail if they catch me with you.”

  “They wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the Prince Consort,” she said, giving me a cheeky smile.

  “Prince Consort? What are you talking about?”

  “You asked me to marry you once,” she said softly. “Is that offer still on the table? Did you mean it?”

  I nodded slowly, still confused out of my mind. “Yes. I mean, of course. But I–”

  “If we’re married, my father can’t have you arrested. It’s bad for optics.”

  “Optics? You sound like a politician.”

  She crinkled her nose adorably. “I may or may not have consulted your father before coming here.”

  “Father? What? How? My head hurts.”

  Marina laughed a brilliant, beautiful laugh. If I really was dreaming, I didn’t ever want to wake up.

  “Hello?” called my mother from the kitchen. “Rodrigo, who’s there?” She stepped out into the hall, wiping her hands dry on a kitchen towel. Mother froze in place when her eyes landed on Marina. “I– Princess? What are you doing here?”

  Marina let go of me and walked up to my mother, taking her hands in her own. “Mrs. Sabatino, I’ve… I’ve come to ask for your son’s hand in marriage. I know you and my parents have been at odds for quite some time, but I urge you not to think about them.”

  “You… You want to marry my son?”