"Sorry, my child," said the old lady.
"It's the conditioning of fifty years or more. Won't go away so easily."
"Okay, granted," the princess replied affably.
"Now tell me Mrs. Bradford, what's this invite all about. Who's it from?"
"From the prince. Prince Kenrick."
"Ah. My new stepbrother."
"Yes."
They were sitting in one of the inner chambers, technically the large dressing room of the princess. It had big walk-in wardrobes, with mirrors wherever the eye could go, and dressing tables with a series of bulbs dotting the outlines of huge reflections – like the kind seen in green rooms of actresses, only on a much grander scale.
There were hundreds of garments in the wardrobe, and plenty of makeup materials on the dressing table (plus more inside the drawers), but Addie had no interest in any of it. In fact, she did not even have a look.
To say she felt like a fish out of water, would be putting it too mildly. She missed her old relationship with her mother, missed her home, missed the little things about her way of life in that middle class suburb from which she was uprooted rather abruptly. And unceremoniously. There were enough ceremonies within the royal household, but not a moment of reflection on the kind of life that went on there.
Thankfully, she found a blessing amidst the chaos: Mrs. Bradford. She was like an oasis in the desert. Addie took to her like a fish that had found water again, and latched on to her for dear life. It was no exaggeration to say that the old lady filled in the space left vacant by her mother – that was how crucial her role was.
Mrs. Bradford was this gentle soul who had spent her entire lifetime in the palace, serving the royal family in different capacities. She was brought in from the country as a young girl, and she had gotten married to an overseer in the palace. But within a year, her husband had died, and she'd been living alone ever since. Many a royal personage of today had been tended to by her frail hands.
"How's he, Mrs. Bradford, my new stepbrother?"
The old lady was silent.
"Would you call him, in your style, 'a fine young man'?" Addie persisted.
She seemed hesitant to agree or disagree.
"Mrs. Bradford, please don't worry so much," Addie tried to assure her.
"First off, I'm not even serious about my question. And then, if at all you say anything to me, it'd stay firmly between these two."
Adelaide pointed at both her ears with her index fingers.
"My child, you're like a daughter to me," Mrs. Bradford's lips trembled.
"I can't lie to you."
Addie waited.
"My advice would be – stay away from Prince Kenrick."
In spite of herself, Addie smiled.
"Of course, Mrs. Bradford."
She placed her hand on the old lady's arm.
"Thank you for your, ah, warning. But ma'am, please understand I'm not this impressionable young girl who's just waiting to fling into the arms of any royal male. I know how to take care of myself. So please stop worrying!"
Mrs. Bradford's eyes turned moist.
"The corridors in this palace are smeared with lust, my child," she said, with a quiver in her voice.
"And who knows it better than old Mrs. Bradford…"
I probably touched a raw nerve, thought Addie. And she felt guilty about it.
"Now, now, Mrs. Bradford, let's talk about something else, okay? I'll tell you about my childhood? About how we lived our lives out there among the 'common folk'? You're a commoner like me, so you'll know what I mean…"
She managed to divert the old lady's mind away from Prince Kenrick's ongoing torrid trysts for a moment.
That little chat done, Mrs. Bradford left for the kitchen to fix tea for Addie, and the latter was left alone. That was when she was reminded of the invite from her new stepbrother.
What was to be done in such a situation? Could she refuse the invite – she was a princess, too? Or, being a newcomer inducted into the royal household late, and coming from her commoner background, was she expected to display her immense gratitude for this mess that she'd found herself in?
She could not decide one way or the other. Best was to ask the kind woman's advice on this touchy matter, even though she felt bad for doing so.
When the old lady walked in with her tea tray ten minutes later, she broached the subject.
"What do you think I should do, Mrs. Bradford?"
The governess thought for a moment.
"There's no way you can say no, I suppose," she supplied.
"This is the heir apparent to the throne inviting you, after all. But you're a princess in your own right, you have privileges too. You could exercise them."
"So I can refuse?"
"No, you mustn't."
"Then what privileges are we talking about?"
It was a catch-22.
"You could delay the inevitable," Mrs. Bradford offered.
"How would that help?" Addie wanted to know.
"Well," Mrs. Bradford's voice went to a whisper.
"You could postpone it citing ill health, or something like that. Prince Kenrick likes to travel a lot, so with any luck, he could be gone any day now that the wedding is over. Later, when he returns – we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
That seemed workable. It also suggested that she was not too eager to meet him in particular, or to mix with the royals. A certain distance was always good, and an image of being inaccessible couldn't hurt, either.
She shot off a regret reply citing her inability to meet anytime soon owing to an unexpected indisposition.
Chapter Eleven
"That's haughtiness, that's arrogance!"
Kenrick was barking at the top of his lungs. Pat was still in bed – recovering from their late night binge of debauchery the day before. They had gone to this themed pub somewhere in town, and returned only in the wee hours of the morning.
"It happens, Pat, it happens," Kenrick continued in the same vein.
"It happens when a commoner who's slept on the floor gets to taste the royal four-poster bed."
Pat opened his eyes wide, showing his commiseration. At least, that was what Kenrick was expecting of him.
"What a fine piece of news first thing in the morning!"
It was past eleven, and it seemed something serious was the matter. Something had dented Kenrick's ego.
Pat got up and sat on the bed, and then Kenrick came up to him and flung a piece of royal stationery into his face. He caught it mid-air and fixed his eyes on the content.
"This is what happens, Pat, when you get what you don't deserve, and you never sweat at getting it."
Pat glanced at the letter, written in a beautiful hand. He thought all royal correspondence was typewritten. This seemed a welcome change.
"But she says she's indisposed, Kenrick…" Pat submitted, meekly.
"Indisposition, my foot!" Kenrick settled for a milder expression. Usually, it would have been an expletive. And Pat was thankful for that.
"Guess what, guess what," Kenrick clapped his hands in excitement.
"I know what to do! I just know what can bring this ungrateful bitch down to her knees!"
He came and sat next to Pat on the bed.
"Pat, trust me, I know what to do, and I'll do it. You just watch!"
This was vintage Kenrick. And who could tell it better than Pat, his partner in crime for as long as either of them could remember.
Kenrick, Pat figured out long ago, was that lethal serpent that could never be shunned. The serpent would strike, come what may. And yet, here was that one time when the serpent was stung back. And how.
Kenrick's mind traveled back to the time when they were at university. They were on a study tour to the interior country, as part of a rural project. The objective was to understand pastoral life, something that was changing fast, before it became history. All students were to submit a report after the tour.
Well Kenrick went
into the tour expectant of an adventure or two, but he never bargained for what unfolded. They were visiting homes in a pastoral village, and Kenrick went into a small farm run by a widow. He was not very happy with that, but it was sheer chance.
Reluctantly, he went inside the house while Pat was checking out the home dairy in the next house.
The prince went in and knocked. There was no response. He knocked again, his patience drying up fast. That was it, he wanted to go back, when a faint womanly voice called out.
"Who's there?"
Now, that was a question no one ever asked of Kenrick. He was the most famous personality in the country, second only to his father. His was the most frequently searched name on Google in that part of the world, for Christ's sake. His was the face that was the most well-known. And here he was being asked who he was.
"It's me," he said, in spite of himself.
This was the real backcountry, probably they had no idea about him.
"Me?" came the voice.
"Who's this 'me' that I don't know about?"
His arrogance did not allow Kenrick to answer. Instead, he stepped further inside in search of the voice. His face would be the passport to recognition, he thought.
He went to the back of the house; that was where the voice seemed to come from. There was a cow shed there, and half a dozen bovines. But here there was no human being.
Then he saw: through the legs of the cows, a woman sitting and milking one of the animals. He could not see her face still, just the jet of fresh milk streaming into a steel vessel, accompanied by the appropriate sound effect. This had to be the owner of that voice.
"Hey!" he called out.
The jet stream stopped. A female head popped out from under the udders of the cow.
It was the sexiest face he ever saw.
It was not a pretty face in the conventional sense. But the half-open eyes, and pouting nose, the full lips and cheeks that were hiding just under her high cheekbones… Just her face was enough to give Kenrick a hard-on.
"Who are you and what do you want?"
Her screeching voice gave him a shudder. That was always the problem with women like that, when they opened their mouths for any reason other than to accept his cock.
"Can't you see I'm busy? I still need to milk three more cows, and I started at five this morning. And then I need to deliver the milk to the cooperative in the village square. Who will do all that – you?"
That was more than a mouthful. Non-stop. And to the heir apparent to the throne. The future king, no less.
Kenrick liked it immensely.
Chapter Twelve
"Mrs. Bradford!" Addie called out to her governess.
"Yes, my dear."
She was by her in an instant. Despite her age, the old woman was very agile.
"I have a question. What if a friend wants to come and visit me?"
"Well, then your friend can come and visit you."
"As simple as that? No protocol, no problems?"
"None whatsoever. This is a palace, my child, not a royal prison," said Mrs. Bradford with a reassuring pat.
"Ah, thanks for clarifying. I was beginning to get ideas," chuckled Addie.
"Where's your friend? We can send transport to bring him here."
"Great. But it's a she, not a he."
"Okay. Where's she?"
"She's already here. At the palace gates."
"Oh. And what's her name?"
"Cate, ma'am."
"All right, please inform her that a limo will pick her up in five minutes."
*****
"Catieeeeee!"
Addie sprang up from her chair and spread out her arms.
Cate had slowed down her walk just outside the drawing room door.
"Addieeeeeee!"
She picked up speed again and ran inside and crashed into her.
The two of them collided and fell into the large, sprawling sofa behind the princess. Thank God it was there, placed strategically to take that fall.
Mrs. Bradford watched this meeting of friends with interest and a wide grin.
"God, I've been dying to see you!" said Addie through giggles and tears.
Yes, her eyes welled up – she'd been missing her best friend, especially in these alien environs.
"Me too, Addie," replied Cate.
"You seemed so far away, suddenly so out of reach!"
"No way," retorted Addie.
"Now you can meet me whenever you want. I'll give you the number of Mrs. Bradford here – that's my governess, if you please."
Suddenly she remembered that she had not introduced them.
"Ma'am, meet my mate – my soulmate – Cate; and Cate, this is Mrs. Bradford, my governess and confidant here in the fortress."
Both of them laughed.
"Mrs. Bradford has formed a pact with me," she told Cate, her tone lower.
"Between us, there is to be none of this royalty nonsense. No Royal Highness or Lowness – I'm just Addie, nothing more, nothing less."
Cate just stood there with her jaw touching the ground.
"Are you here to live the life of a princess, or are you here to challenge the royals?"
"A bit of both, my girl," and they started a cushion fight right there.
Mrs. Bradford had to intervene. Those were some priceless heirloom pillows, after all.
"Would you girls care for some coffee and something to eat?"
That sounded both exciting and delicious. Cate craved to savor something royal right then.
"Okay, Mrs. Bradford," agreed Addie.
"Let's show Cate what we've got."
*****
"No, you aren't going anywhere, Catie."
Addie was being rather stern with her best friend.
"She can stay here tonight, can't she, Mrs. Bradford?"
"Ah, um, I'll need to run that by the CSO…" the old woman replied, unsure.
"And what monster would that be?" asked Addie, somewhat defiantly.
"The Chief Security Officer. To get Cate in was itself a tremendous challenge."
"Oh?"
That was news to Addie, and not how Mrs. Bradford had made it seem.
"You never told me."
"I didn't want to bother you. So I managed it myself."
"So you think having Cate over for the night would be an issue?"
"I think so."
That was the governess's way of saying Don't even consider it.
"If I were you, I'd keep her till sundown and let her go today. We can always bring her back another day – tomorrow if you wish."
Addie's shoulders drooped. Back in her own home, she was her own boss. And Cate would stay over as late as she wanted. It was not her own life anymore.
"Okay, all right," sighed Addie, resigning to the situation.
"At least stay till evening. Then 'we' will arrange for your transport – till your home."
She said that last line in true royal style, and they both laughed. Better to savor the moments at hand rather than worry about the moments you could not have.
With Cate by her side, Addie felt a lot better. This was like old times, almost. Of course, they never had such sprawling living rooms and imposing bedrooms, but still, they had a lot of fun.
Her old neighborhood had been quiet, with only the cackle of kids playing on the streets in the evening. It was green, the wind was fresh, and the place overall was just heaven. They would often take a walk in the park nearby, and there was always loads of 'us' time. And on returning home, Addie's mum would have baked beans ready – steaming and yum. That was life!
Then it was just television, gossip, and lying together on the cramped bed before sleep. Whoever said you need more space to have more fun?
Next morning, usually a Sunday morning, would be the laziest. They would wake up only after eleven, by which time Addie's mum would have been up and been to church and back. Again, she would cook something exotic for brunch – sometimes Chinese or pasta – and they
would gorge on it. Afternoons would be spent playing Pictionary (both of them were addicted to it), with Mum playing on both her side as well as Cate's. Both would cheat incessantly, both would fight vigorously. Neither would win, of course, and almost always the game would end in a quarrel.
Royal S.O.B. (A Bad Boy Romance) Page 5