Prince Billionaire: A Royal Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I nod my head, suddenly very nervous. “Will he mind if I don’t call him Big Bran?”

  “No,” Bran says. “It’s not really a big deal, I just don’t feel like hearing you saying it.” He grins a little bit and steps closer, speaking more softly so that Aleks can’t hear. “I’m your Big Bran.”

  I blink, surprised by that, but I don’t have time to think about it. He turns and opens the double doors, and we step into the dining room.

  King Branimir and Queen Ana look like any other normal Bellestanian people, although the King is a large man with a big gray bushy beard. He looks like Santa Claus if Santa were also half bear and extremely dangerous. Queen Ana is slight and beautiful, and they both stand when we enter the room.

  “Mom, Dad,” Bran says.

  “Son.” Queen Ana steps up and embraces him first. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “You too, Mom.” He pulls away and hugs his dad. “Still haven’t lost any weight, huh, King?”

  “Working on it,” King Bran rumbles in a deep baritone. “Now, let’s see the girl.”

  Bran steps away and gestures at me. I smile at the two of them, hands clasped in front of me. “King Branimir, Queen Ana, it’s very nice to meet you.”

  “Hello, dear.” Queen Ana steps up to me first and gives me a surprisingly warm hug. “Please, call me Ana now. You’re going to be family.”

  I feel a little guilty as I smile at her, but Bran’s face remains passive.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” King Bran rumbles. “Call me Big Bran. Everyone else does.”

  “Okay,” I say, though I won’t do it. If Bran doesn’t want me to, I won’t, though I don’t know how I feel about that last thing he said.

  King Bran pulls me into a big hug then laughs. “Are you two hungry?” he rumbles as we sit down at the table.

  Staff members come out with two plates loaded with food and they place them down in front of Bran and I. It’s basically a classic English breakfast, with sausage and bacon and eggs, all amazing and delicious and artery-clogging. King Bran is already halfway through his plate, and he doesn’t look like he has any intentions of stopping.

  Ana watches me and smiles. “How do you like your visit so far?” she asks me.

  “It’s amazing,” I say honestly. “This place is… incredible.”

  “Damn right it is,” King Bran rumbles. “Krizmans built this place, a long, long time ago.”

  Bran rolls his eyes at me, but the King continues.

  “Krizmans are great builders, you know. That’s why Bran was able to bring so much infrastructure to Bellestan. Right, son?”

  “Right,” Bran says, grinning at me.

  “Clearly we’re proud of him,” Ana says. “But let’s hear more about you.”

  “Well,” I say. “I’m from a small town. Mom and Dad are still married and alive. Dad works in a factory and Mom is a paralegal. I got a scholarship to the University of Pennsylvania, so that’s how I moved out into the big city, and then I got a job working for Bran. And now… I’m here.” I smile at them, hoping that my vague little answer is going to be enough.

  Truthfully, I’m starting to feel a little guilty. These seem like really nice people and they think I’m going to be joining their family for real. I don’t want to mislead them any more than I already am. I know Bran explained this bit to me already, that his parents have to be in the dark or else this won’t work, but still. I know he doesn’t like lying to them either so I have to just trust him.

  Still, I wish they could be in on this. I wish they could understand that I’m not a bad person, that I’m just trying to do what’s best for me and for their country. I wish I could get closer to them, but I know I have to keep my distance.

  “Small town, eh?” King Bran rumbles. “We’re from a small town too, you know. Bellestan is all small towns, actually.” He launches into a little history lesson on the royal line and their origins, which is good, because it gives me time to pick at the food.

  I’m shocked at how kind and warm both the King and Queen are. I know Bran keeps telling me that they’re normal, nice people, but I still expected them to be a little formal. Instead, they’re just like any other parents I’ve met, and their English is impeccable.

  Suddenly, the King finishes his history lesson and leans toward me. “Listen, Mila,” he says. “Are you fertile?”

  I nearly choke on the sausage in my mouth.

  “Dad,” Bran says. “Jesus. Are you serious?”

  “What?” King Bran asks. “We’re royal, damnit. Having babies is what we do.”

  “Maybe not at breakfast,” Bran says. “Or maybe not the first time you meet her.”

  “First, second, what’s it matter?” The King leans toward me, grinning a big, jovial grin. “So dear, how is it down there?”

  I must be bright red, because Queen Ana comes to my rescue. “You’re being impolite,” she says to the King.

  He huffs. “Well, now my wife is against me, all for a simple question.”

  “I’m fertile,” I manage to say. “As far as I know,” I add more softly.

  There’s a moment of silence before the King laughs. “Wonderful!” he says. “So you’ll be having plenty of babies, and soon.” He winks at me.

  Bran looks mortified and Queen Ana just shakes her head.

  But King Bran doesn’t seem to mind. He just launches into another history lesson, this time about the relative fertility of past Queens. I can’t really listen, though, because all I can think about is having Bran’s baby. He keeps looking at me with this smirk, clearly enjoying my discomfort, and clearly thinking the same thing.

  I can only imagine what he’d say about me having his babies. Really, he’d talk about the process of making the babies, and I really don’t want to hear that. It’s bad enough that I keep thinking about it myself, I don’t need him describing in detail how he’d get me pregnant.

  After about ten more minutes, King Bran suddenly finishes his speech and stands. “I have to get going,” he says, glancing at his phone. “Meetings all morning.”

  “Of course,” I say. I go to stand to say goodbye, but he waves his hand.

  “Sit, eat, enjoy yourself. Ana and I will see you again soon.”

  Queen Ana stands and smiles at me. “It’s been nice. Please, enjoy yourself here.” She turns to Bran. “You be good. Take care of your fiancée, please.”

  “Yes, mother.” He grins and she squeezes him on the shoulder.

  The royal parents both leave out a side door, and I’m left alone with Bran.

  “Painless,” he says to me.

  “Why’d they both leave so fast?” I ask him.

  He laughs and shrugs. “They’re busy people. They don’t usually do this breakfast thing, this was just to meet you. You’ll be seeing more of them, don’t worry.”

  “Will your father be asking anything else about my fertility?”

  Bran grins at me. “He means well.” He leans toward me. “Good to know that you’re fertile, though.”

  I give him a look then nod my head and pick at my food. “I hope that went well, at least.”

  “Why?” he asks. “Want my parents to like you?”

  “I mean, of course I do.”

  “Since we’re getting married and all.” He leans toward me, grinning.

  I give him a look. “No, I mean, this will just be easier if they like me. Plus, I want to be liked. Is that so wrong?”

  “Not at all.” His grin is infuriating, like he knows something about me that I don’t. “Anyway, you’re dismissed now, if you want to go back and shower.”

  “Do we have plans for today?”

  “We do, but not right away, so you’ve got some time.”

  “Okay, good.” I stand and look at him for a second. “Can I, uh… get this plate to go?”

  He laughs and gestures, and I realize that there’s a staff member standing silently in the corner. He walks quickly over, takes the plate from me, and returns a moment lat
er with a Styrofoam box full of a new meal.

  “I can get used to this,” I say to Bran.

  He laughs again. “Don’t. We’re not here that long.”

  “One month is a while.” I give him another look. “See you later?”

  He nods. “See you soon.”

  I carry my food back out into the hallway. Aleks and another man are there. Aleks nods to me, but only the other man follows. I glance back at him.

  “I guess you’re my escort?” I ask.

  “That’s right, Princess,” he says. “My name is Hans.”

  “Well, Hans, show me to my room, because I’m lost already.”

  He stifles a smile and leads the way.

  I can’t stop thinking about that meeting with the royal family. I don’t know if it went well or if they got out of there as fast as they could because I was so unbearable. I think I handled it well, but I can’t ever be sure.

  I don’t know why I care so much though. It shouldn’t matter if Bran’s parents like me. I’m not really marrying him. I’m not really becoming a Princess.

  Although… I have to admit, I like being called Princess. Maybe not when Bran says it, because he has some other, inappropriate implications, but I’ve always wanted to be a Princess. When I was a little girl, I was obsessed with royalty. Now, I actually am royalty, or at least I’m a fake fiancée slash Princess for one month.

  It’s overwhelming, but it’s exciting. And at least now I get to take a shower.

  7

  Bran

  I finish my breakfast slowly after Mila leaves. I can’t believe my fucking father asked her if she’s fertile, but then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s basically Royalty 101: never marry an infertile woman. Even if it’s totally outdated and absurd, it’s still very much a part of what it means to be in the royal family.

  Lines of succession, fertility, I thought I got rid of all this stuff a long time ago, but I know I was lying to myself.

  I never wanted to be King, not even when I was a kid. I always imagined leaving Bellestan for something better. Our history has always been fraught, from the holy wars of the early thirteenth century to the Soviets taking over our country up until their fall. My family lived in exile during those years, and when the Soviets left, we came back and reestablished the monarchy almost as if nothing had changed.

  But a lot’s changed, and the world is moving on. I thought I was moving on, too. There’s no other Prince though, and nobody to care over the throne when my father passes. If I’m really going to help save the monarchy, I need to understand what that means for my own future.

  I’m basically agreeing to become King. It’s a hard though. I don’t know what’ll happen to everything I’ve built these years. I gave my heart and soul to Babble. I made something great. I know at this point that I could likely step aside and let my team take over the company and it’ll be fine, but I can’t imagine actually doing that. Still, I couldn’t be both King and CEO, as much as I’d like to be.

  My thoughts keep running around this problem and I barely notice Aleks come into the room and sit down across from me. One of the staffers brings him a mug of coffee which he sips and watches me silently.

  “What?” I finally ask him. “You’re here for a reason. You wouldn’t break protocol otherwise.”

  He grins at me and gestures at the staffer in the corner, dismissing him. “You’re right, I wouldn’t dream of breaking protocol.”

  I sigh and sip my coffee. I’m done eating. For some reason, my appetite is all gone. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk about Mila.”

  “What about her?”

  “I did my homework, you know.” He leans back and watches me. “She doesn’t really seem like your type.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s that mean?”

  “Come on, Prince Billionaire.”

  I wince at that. Prince Billionaire is the nickname people in the press call me sometimes, especially when they’re talking about some of my more notorious exploits.

  “Don’t call me that,” I say.

  “Why? I thought you’d like it.”

  “I hate that name. It’s not meant to be nice.”

  “I know.” He laughs and shrugs a little. “But maybe you need your ego checked a little bit.”

  I glare at him. “Don’t forget your place, ass.”

  “Don’t forget where you come from, dick.” He sighs and puts his mug down. “I’m sorry. I know I’m pushing.”

  “It’s okay.” Aleks and I have always had something of a rivalry, even when we were kids. We’re as close as can be, but we’re also two very talented and very competitive people. Because I’m the Prince, I’ve been given everything, and I know sometimes Aleks resents that.

  “But really, Bran, what is it about this one?”

  I wish I could tell him the truth, but I don’t think we’re quite ready for that. We were close once upon a time, but it’s been a while. “She’s different,” I say.

  “That’s obvious. She’s not a pop star or a super model.”

  “She’s smart,” I say, which is true. “Beautiful. Talented. She challenges me in ways most women don’t.”

  “I see,” he says, watching me. “So it’s real, then?”

  I blink at him. “Excuse me?”

  “This whole thing.” He waves his hands at me. “The engagement. It’s real?”

  I hesitate. “Yes,” I say.

  “Good.” He nods his head. “She’s good for you. Maybe she can actually change Prince Billionaire for the better.”

  “Who says I haven’t changed already?”

  He grins and stands up. “We’ll see.” He leaves the room and I clench my jaw, a little annoyed.

  But as soon as he’s gone, I realize something. Everything I said to him is true. She is beautiful and smart and she does challenge me. I like being around her in a way that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. When I said that it was real, I was only half lying.

  Because apparently, the way I’m starting to feel is real.

  That complicates things, of course. I don’t normally do complicated. But Aleks is right. I spent so much time growing my company and enjoying life that maybe I forgot to grow the fuck up. A woman like Mila can help me do that, and so much more.

  One day, I might be King. And I’d be lucky to have a Queen like Mila.

  For now, though, she’s just my fake Princess. And I like it like that.

  The elevator speeds down faster and faster, and I can tell Mila is a little nervous. We’re alone in the tiny space, since Aleks agreed to give us a little privacy. We’re going to the safest space in the entire castle, and it just so happens to be my favorite as well.

  “Not nervous,” she says, lying.

  “We’re going pretty fast,” I point out.

  “You didn’t have to say that.”

  “I know,” I reply happily.

  She groans as the elevator gets closer and closer to the cavern floor. We left behind the living quarters and the other floors, and now we’re headed to the bottom of the cavern. The light gets dimmer, though it doesn’t extinguish entirely as we head toward the bottom. The rock is rougher down here, harsh and natural, though if you look closely you can see some very unnatural carvings.

  Faces peer out at us from the darkness, faces made from stone.

  “Look,” I say, pointing them out to her.

  She catches a glimpse of one. “What the hell?”

  “Ancient rock carvings,” I say. “Nobody knows how they got there or what they mean, but they’re old.”

  “Whoa,” she says, trying to see another one.

  “Don’t worry, there are more down there.”

  “Where are you taking me, exactly?”

  “To my favorite place in this entire country.” The elevator reaches the bottom finally with a soft thump, and the doors slowly open. “The sacred lake.”

  We step off the elevator and into a passageway cut int
o the stone. I take the lead, using my phone for a flashlight. It’s very dim, and I reach back to grab Mila’s hand. She takes it and follows me as we walk down the passage. It’s barely wide enough for us, but she doesn’t complain.

  “Whoa,” she says again, stopping. “Look.”

  Cut into the rock is a face. The man is bearded with wide, stylized eyes.

  “That’s Michael,” I say.

  She turns to me. “Michael?”

  I shrug. “I named them when I was a kid.”

  “Shit. Michael. What an awful name for an ancient face.”

  I grin and start leading the way again. Up ahead, maybe fifty yards in the distance, the passageway opens up into a large chamber right in the center of the cavern.

  We step into the chamber and I hear Mila’s breath catch in her throat. I can’t blame her. The lake itself is gorgeous, almost a perfect sky-blue color. Someone once told me the blue coloring is from the crystals in the lake, but I like to think that the lake is an extension of the sky, just down below us.

  “Incredible,” she whispers.

  The lake is probably twenty yards across. There are maybe ten feet all around it, a very small bank. Nobody knows how it got there, but it’s always been here for as long as I know.

  Spaced at four even intervals are large statues of men in cloaks and bearskins with long beards. They’re facing away from the lake with their arms crossed. Each one has a different weapon: a sword, an axe, a shield, and a staff. They’re as old as the faces carved into the walls, and there are more of them, too. Many, many more. There are over a hundred faces, in fact. I counted them once.

  “What is all this?” she asks me, walking slowly and gazing at the water.

  “Scholars think it was an ancient holy site, but nobody knows how people got down here. We discovered this place during my grandfather’s reign when people decided to explore the bottom of this cave.”

  “When did you build the stuff above?” she asks.

  “When my father was young, still just a Prince, he had this place built. Although there were always tunnels down here, below the castle.”