"Well, what do you think he was trying to do with me?"
"To you? Didn't you just affirm he's your stepbrother?"
"I did," conceded Addie.
"And therein lies the rub."
Cate gave her a quizzical look.
"Catie, please understand my position," Addie explained patiently.
"By virtue of being a so-called 'princess', I'm always in the palace complex. And being his stepsister, I'm always accessible. Imagine the kind of freedom that allows him."
Cate remained silent.
"He's smooth as butter, Catie. Remember that evening at the Annual Day? He was speaking with me on the stage… God, what charm! I almost fell for him right there!"
"Oh, did you now?" Cate's eyes were sparking.
"Don't be silly, Cate," Addie corrected her friend.
"If he's chalk, I'm cheese."
Unwittingly, her metaphor was identical to the one used by the prince earlier.
"Yes my dear, but opposites attract – remember that," Cate reminded her.
"And parallels never meet," a quick rejoinder came from Addie.
"Siblings are like two parallel lines that go together till the ends of the earth, without crossing paths even once."
"Siblings – agreed. But what about stepsiblings?"
"What do you want, Catie?!" cried Addie, exasperated.
"Us to have an affair??"
Cate laughed.
"I just want you not to obsess about him so much," said Cate.
"Oh, I don't care about him," Addie replied, unconvincingly.
"Your obsession is what's worrying me," her friend noted.
"If you really don't care about him, why is he in all our conversations?"
That put a speed breaker in their talk. Probably there was a grain of truth in that, thought Addie. And she was the last one to turn away from the truth.
"Okay," declared Addie, determination in her voice.
"No more mention of Prince Kenrick."
"No more," seconded Cate.
"What about the invitation, I wonder," asked Addie.
"Which invitation?"
"The one the prince sent me. I honored it the first time. If he had other business to attend, it isn't my concern."
"Addie! You said you'd not mention him ever again?!"
Addie laughed out loudly.
"Yes, I must watch myself better," she agreed.
"How's your preparation for the exams getting on?" Cate asked, after a pause.
"Not very well," replied Addie.
"I haven't touched my books yet."
"You've been busy."
"With all this claptrap of visiting the prince and catching him fucking his servant women."
"There she goes again!" Cate exclaimed.
Addie, suddenly realizing, bit her tongue and placed her index finger on her lips.
"Seriously Cate," she said suddenly.
"We need to focus on our exams."
"Yes." Cate looked thoughtful.
"Would you like to come over, so we can study together?" Addie asked.
"Great idea," agreed Cate.
"But do you think we will actually study when together?"
"Whyever not?"
"Because we'll be talking and talking and talking… and we've plenty of things to talk about."
"Cate, please," Addie pleaded.
"I need you… I just can't bring myself to study alone in that golden cage."
Cate livened up at the unwitting mention of the poem read aloud by Addie.
"I'll come," agreed Cate – and Addie jumped up from her chair, leaned across towards her best friend, and pinched both her cheeks.
"That's my darling Catie!" Addie exclaimed.
"But under one condition," clarified her friend.
"We must really study."
Addie laughed.
"That's the whole idea, Cate," she said.
"You're coming over so that we can study."
"Okay," replied her friend, somewhat disbelievingly.
*****
As was her wont, Addie arranged all the required textbooks and notes on the desk in her study. She also kept her tablet in case she needed to refer to something online. Then the usual iPod, if she felt like some music. She was all set.
The first subject she wanted to attack was Criticism. She found it difficult to grasp, the various concepts and theories. She also found it absurd.
Liking or not liking a piece of writing – or any creative pursuit – was a matter of personal preference. How and when did that function become institutionalized, she wondered. The 'groundlings' – the poor folk sitting on the ground in front of the stage at The Globe Theatre back during Shakespeare's time – just enjoyed the great bard's writing at an instinctive level. They never sat and analyzed on whether to laugh at a line or not – they just broke into splits at the wit.
How did critics, who could never write anything themselves, sit in judgment of the work of people who were divinely talented? In fact, they went one step ahead. They made it into a science – a science that judged art – and created a dedicated discipline out of it. And today, students had to learn it to pass–
There was a mild rap on the door of the study. Both she and Cate looked up.
Standing there, with that dashing smile on his face, was Prince Kenrick.
Chapter Thirty-Two
"I need you to find a solution for me."
It was Kenrick's voice, and the ears were Pat's.
They were both seated on the terrace, having breakfast. It was a beautiful morning, a gentle breeze was blowing, and the sky was full of tiny clusters of clouds traveling somewhere in a hurry.
"What do you want me to do, Phantom?"
"Show me a way out of this Princess Adelaide conundrum," said Kenrick.
"You know the jam I'm in."
"Yes," replied Pat.
"I invited her to my chambers with a lot of fanfare. She never came, but her excuse did. So I went to her chambers. Acted high and mighty. Returned, got smitten by her. Met her again, quite a happenstance, at the university Annual Day. She read a poem against royalty – the same royalty that welcomed her with open arms, the same royalty she's now a part of."
He took a breather. Then:
"But I forgave her for that. I even gave her the QSS, the most coveted shield, in return. Then I met her again that same evening, privately. Renewed my invite. Then I waited and waited and waited. In frustration, I went and screwed those 'regular' servant women. Having done the deed, I was stepping out. And I was caught by the princess herself, in whose honor – in a manner of speaking – I had ventured into it. Net-net, I had egg on my face. And now I can't face her. Nor do I know what do to with my invitation. I'm stuck."
That long spiel from Kenrick was a faithful summary of events thus far. And Pat was aware of most of it. Now all Kenrick wanted was to get out of the mess he had created for himself. It was a peculiar trait of the royals – create a mess and ask others to get them out of it.
"So I'm asking you to get me out of this mess," said Kenrick, right on cue.
"Let me think," replied Pat, who fell into deep contemplation.
For a while, the clang and clack of cutlery were the only sounds heard. Pat finished his breakfast, and waited for Kenrick to finish his. He was still in his thinking mode.
"The weak link here," pronounced Pat, with all the precision of a scientist.
"Is the fact that you invited her and she came. So you can't fault her."
"Yes," conceded Kenrick.
"And obviously you can't invite her again, having been careless enough to be absent when she visited the first time."
Kenrick was irritated with the mild reproach in that statement. But he rode with it for the time being.
"Yes," he answered.
"But that still leaves one avenue open."
"What's that?"
Pat shifted in his chair, training his eyes on Kenrick.
"Kenrick," he b
egan.
"Who's stopping you from visiting her?"
"What?"
"Yes," reiterated Pat.
"You missed her when she came. You are apologetic. You visit her. You express your apology. What's wrong with that? It's well within the fitness of things to return her visit."
Kenrick was listening, and thinking.
"I'd go as far as to say that it'd paint you in a good light. You're being this upright host who takes all the trouble to visit his guest whose visit he missed."
It was making sense to Kenrick. Such an obvious solution had escaped him! He was secretly thankful for Pat.
"And this time," continued Pat.
"You'll go alone, without me."
"Why so?" pondered Kenrick.
"Well, you are the guilty party. I'm not referring to your fuckfest here. You were guilty of not being there when she arrived in your chambers. You messed up alone, you atone for it alone. Simple."
Kenrick liked the idea. He also loved the fact that he would go alone – that seemed so full of possibilities. He only had to account for the old hag who always hung around the princess. Maybe he could choose a time when the old fart was busy with administrative work. And once inside, he knew how to take things from there…
"Bravo, my genius, bravo!" He sang praises of Pat.
"Now you know why you're irreplaceable."
Pat took a bow. He had saved the day.
*****
Later, as they were resting post lunch that same day, Kenrick had another question for Pat.
"Okay, assuming I go into her chambers and meet her," he started.
"What is it that I should ask her?"
"God, Phantom," exclaimed Pat.
"You sound like a nervous rookie lover. Do I really need to tell you this as well?"
"No Pat," Kenrick's voice dropped many notches.
"I can't afford to go wrong this time. This will be my third crack at meeting her, after so many aborted attempts. So I want to be sure."
"Phantom, obviously you're the expert here," offered Pat.
"But I'll tell you what works for me."
"Yeah, I want to know."
"Don't do the obvious. Don't start inviting her yet again and make a further mess of that. Treat it as bygones and move on."
"Okay, so what should I do?"
"You should take charge and call the shots. Talk about something else. Ask her out. Whatever."
"You mean I don't even apologize?"
"Of course you do. You do say sorry. But that's about it, don't dwell too much on that, and on the invitation that went so horribly wrong."
Suddenly Kenrick was reminded of the state he was in when Princess Adelaide saw him last. It filled his every pore with shame.
"Pat, I have another query."
"Yes, Phantom."
"I'm seeing her for the first time after that fucking binge down there. How should I react to that?"
"React?" Pat asked.
"Why react, Phantom? This is why I feel she's smarter than all of us put together."
"Why?"
"See, she saw you in that, ah, highly compromising position. Did she react to it? No. Did she refer to it in her little note? No. That's a sign of true class."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Do the same thing. Pretend it never happened."
"Really?"
"Of course, Phantom. She hasn't seen it. You haven't done it. Matter closed."
"I… I don't know."
It was a sight to watch, the mighty Kenrick squirming like a little kid.
"I'm… rather nervous."
"No need to be," said Pat with conviction.
"You see certain things, you don't see certain things. You do certain things, you don't do certain things. That's life."
"Are you sure, Pat?"
"Cent per cent," replied Pat.
"Of such stuff is royalty made."
Chapter Thirty-Three
She was startled.
It was early afternoon and she was alone, save for Cate, in the chambers. Mrs. Bradford had her administrative duties at that time and would be away for at least three-quarters of an hour.
"May I… come in, Princess Adelaide?"
The prince's familiar baritone was soft.
The contrast of both visits was not lost on Addie. The first visit had been laced with sarcasm; this visit seemed to be dripping in honey. So the prince takes his agenda forward, thought Addie.
"You've already come in, Your Royal Highness, Prince Kenrick." She set the tone of the conversation that was about to ensue.
She stood up, not to disrespect the prince, and pointed him to a chair.
"Please be seated, Your Royal Highness," she said evenly.
"Thank you, Princess Adelaide," Kenrick said, looking from Addie to Cate.
"I fervently hope I'm not disturbing the two of you."
"Well," said Addie.
"We were trying to study for our exams."
The prince cleared his throat.
"Oh, I'm so terribly sorry. I'll not take but a moment."
"That's all right, Prince Kenrick. Kindly state the purpose of your, ah, unexpected visit," replied Addie, glancing at Cate with a raised eyebrow.
There was no trace of nervousness or fear in her voice. And if panic was rising deep inside the pit of her stomach, Addie did not show it.
"Actually, I was deeply affected by your poem… the one you read out loud on your Annual Day."
"Oh. You came all the way to tell me this, Prince Kenrick?"
He never expected such audacity in her. Was it an offshoot of what she saw the other day? Whatever it was, he liked it. This would be fun.
"Yes, among other things," said Kenrick.
"And what would these other things be, Prince Kenrick?"
She hated praise, and abhorred false praise.
"But let's stick to your poem first. I was impressed by your talent, and your felicity with words."
"Which was why, dear Prince Kenrick, you awarded me with the QSS, I presume?"
"Yes, indeed. But then the evening was over, and the poem never left me."
"You mean, it's still chasing you wherever you go?"
What did she mean, 'wherever you go'? Kenrick wondered if it was a subtle dig back to the servants' breakroom episode.
"The chasm you referred to, in the poem, between the royals and the commoners… I spent a lot of time thinking about that."
"Amazing."
That was all Addie allowed herself to say.
"And I want to do something about that yawning gap."
You already did something to bridge that gap, thought Addie.
She let out a yawn. Was it a coincidence or was it timed to perfection, Kenrick could not tell.
"And I want to start with abolishing the 'royal' prefixes."
"Which means?"
"It means you call me Kenrick and I call you Addie, like two friends do."
Addie could smell where this was going.
"But wouldn't that mean you're throwing a whole lot of royal protocols to the winds?"
"I don't care," replied the prince.
"What's royal protocol between friends? My pal Pat – the one who came with me the other day – he calls me Phantom."
"He does? It's a rather appropriate name."
"Haha," Kenrick was not amused.
But he had to keep up appearances; he could not slip up yet again.
"So my suggestion to you and me – let's drop the 'highness' and 'prince' and 'princess'."
"And stick to Kenrick and Addie?"
"Yes!"
Royal S.O.B. (A Bad Boy Romance) Page 13