Royal Pains

by CN Thornton

  "When you ran off into the woods, I was more than livid. As I searched for you I thought of nothing but how to punish you. To teach you." He paused, staring at his foot. "But then I found you and I knew you were injured. From where I stood looking over the ledge at you, I feared the worst and nothing else mattered."

  I bit my lip as I stared at him. "What do you mean?" I asked wearily.

  He tensed up and I could see his jaw repeatedly clenching—a sign I recognized very well. He was on the verge of an outburst. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that you do what you need to do to get better. You are my wife… my future queen… and I cannot have you unwell," he said in his usual firm tenor.

  "You act like I wanted this to happen," I shot back bitterly.

  "You may not have wanted this, but you sure as hell didn't prevent it. That little stunt you pulled could have gotten you killed. I expect you to never behave like that again."

  "Or what?" I sneered. "Are you going to punish me again?" I challenged.

  He rose swiftly to his feet and looked down his nose at me with his usual disappointed expression. "I should have already punished you for everything you did, starting with running off to another country. Do you know the harm that could've found you?"

  Unsettled, I glared at him. "No worse than what I go through being with you."

  He leaned over me, his face inches from mine. "Do not confuse me for someone who doesn't have a heart. If I really wanted you to suffer, I could have flogged you into next week," he growled at me.

  Standing up, he gave me one last look and then left me alone to eat.

  I wondered how Sebastian was doing. Was he worrying about me? I looked around the room for my purse, but it was nowhere to be seen.

  "Theodore," I called out.

  There was no answer.

  Setting the tray of food aside, I rose carefully from the bed and walked out of the room, taking my time as I was still in a lot of pain. When I walked into the main area of the jet, Theodore glanced up, rose to his feet and came over to my side.

  "What are you doing out of bed?" he asked, gingerly.

  I crossed my arms. "I'm looking for my purse."

  Sighing, he shook his head and went over to a cabinet in the corner. He opened it and retrieved my purse before handing it to me.

  "I have taken the liberty of charging your phone, but unfortunately it will not work in Linacre."

  I gave him a look of surprise that he seemed genuinely amused by.

  "This lifestyle is not a prison; you do have your freedom. All your personal items are over in that closet. You may have them when we land and you get settled in," he said matter-of-factly.

  "I just want my old life back," I muttered.

  Theodore placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. "That wasn't your life. Its role was no more than to shelter and protect you, but that is over now and it is your duty—"

  "No!" I cut him off, shouting as I covered my ears. "I'm tired of hearing this!" And I stormed off back to the room.

  I half expected him to come after me and tell me I was going to be punished, but he didn't. He left me to myself for the remaining duration of the flight, minus the moments when he would bring me something to eat or drink.

  We didn't speak.

  As we began our final descent into the province of Fallmonte, I peered out the window in the bedroom. Looking down from above gave me a decent view. I could see the royal courts, the houses outside the courts and even the business districts.

  When we came to a stop on the runway, Theodore came into the room to gather me.

  "No, leave your things; they will be brought to you."

  After leading me towards the exit, he paused at the door and turned to me. "There are carriages outside waiting for us. I will be in the first one and you will follow behind me in the second."

  I raised my eyebrow at him. "You trust me enough to let me out of your sight? What's to stop me from running off?" I pressed.

  "You'd be very dumb to do so. The way you are dressed, you are an outcast to anyone and everyone. As for any attempt to get out of the country—no one gets on the plane unless it is approved by the royals."

  I sighed and nodded my head. "Fine."

  He gave me a look and then we found our way to the carriages. The front carriage, Theodore’s, was beautifully regal and pulled by a massive white horse, while I was in the second, simpler one.

  The ride from the airport to the castle was long and exhausting. When we reached the gates, the guards checked the carriages and then let us through.

  . . .

  "Come," Theodore said when our feet were once again on solid ground. "Let me introduce you to your ladies; they will help you become a little more appropriate for a Linacrean princess."

  I looked around at the grounds as I followed him up the massive staircase that led to the front doors of the palace. Flowers and beautiful shrubs were everywhere, decorating the grounds in a naturalistic manner. Most of the plants I had never seen before.

  My thoughts went immediately to Sebastian, who I knew would be begging to have the opportunity to photograph this. Just thinking about him made my eyes water. I missed him so much.

  Theodore took me through several corridors, and then we ascended a carpeted grand staircase.

  "Your apartment is on the third floor with the rest of the family’s, since you are my fiancée. Our sleeping quarters will be side by side and even have a door to connect them."

  I nodded my head. I wasn't too excited about basically sharing a room with Theodore—let alone living in the same country as him.

  He stopped in front of a pair of double doors. "Your apartment," he said and then pushed the doors open.

  I heard the sound of heels clicking against the floor before four ladies dressed in frilly lace dresses appeared. They all curtsied simultaneously, greeting Theodore and then myself—addressing us as Prince and Princess.

  "Please don't," I murmured as I eyed them all. Why the hell would I need four women to help me do anything?

  "Ladies, meet Princess Emmaline."

  One by one they curtsied to me, again, causing me to blush.

  "Emmaline, these are your ladies in waiting." He gestured to the first lady, her brown hair beginning to gray. "This is your lead, Moana. Then you have Justine, Layla and Peyton." He flourished his hand to each.

  "Hello," I said shyly.

  "Moana, give her a tour of her apartment and then get her into something proper. When she is finished, she may do as she pleases," Theodore said before leaving me to their company.

  Once he closed the door, the ladies began hounding on me, expressing their excitement to finally have me here before letting me know they felt absolutely terrible about my father's loss.

  The talk about my father “the great king” pushed me over the edge. I knew nothing of my father except that I had basically killed him by getting him sick. If he hadn’t died, would I have had a happier life? Would I have felt more loved?

  I excused myself quickly after the tour of my apartment and went to my bed, where I curled up under the covers and began to cry. I could imagine a million females who would kill to be in my place, and I would happily trade with any of them if it were possible—because this life wasn't mine.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I had spent the last five days locked away in what was supposed to be my room—though I saw it as nothing more than a dungeon. Several times over the past couple days, my ladies-in-waiting had let me know that Prince Theodore had requested to see me.

  After it had been made clear to me that I could—as a princess—deny this simple request, I had. I wanted nothing to do with him.

  It was midday on the sixth day when I finally caved. I hated being stuck inside all the time, and I couldn't stand constantly having my ladies so close. I felt suffocated. I felt lost.

  "Excuse me," I said, addressing Layla for the first time.

  She stopped suddenly, and by the surprised look on her f
ace, I knew she hadn't expected me to talk to her.

  She came over to my side and gave a curtsy. "Princess?"

  I ignored her unwanted formality and continued, "I was wondering when I would be able to leave my room."

  She called over my head lady-in-waiting, Moana, and the two fell into a quick and quiet conversation before addressing me.

  "Princess, we were instructed that you are to remain in your chambers until you are properly dressed," Moana said.

  I rolled my eyes. "I am properly dressed," I said, gesturing to the jean shorts and plaid button-down shirt.

  She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Princess, but that is not proper for a princess—let alone a woman—to be wearing in Linacre."

  Peyton stepped forward. "Please, Princess, let us dress you. It is almost lunch, and surely you would prefer to eat in the dining room instead of in here?"

  I gave in without much complaint and was whisked away by my four ladies to the oversized bathroom. Justine drew my bath while the others attempted to undress me—which I didn't like.

  "Hey!" I intervened, batting away at their hands. "I'm pretty capable of bathing myself, thank you very much."

  But they wouldn't allow it. They began talking about their duties and responsibilities and to get them to quiet down, I knew I had to give in.

  Peyton washed my hair and Justine used some sort of sponge-like rock to buff my skin and clean me, while Layla and Moana went into my dressing room to pick out an appropriate outfit for the day.

  When I was clean and smelling like flowers, they dried me off and took me into the next room to get dressed.

  I was soon shocked as I realized what "getting dressed" meant for women in Linacre. It took nearly an hour for them to get me in the ridiculous eight layers of clothing—including but not limited to a smock, stockings, corset, parlet and petticoat.

  When they were finished dressing me, they began to work on my hair. Then came the shoes. The entire process was completely ludicrous. Especially the corset that was squeezing the life out of me, like a boa constrictor killing its prey.

  "Is this really necessary?" I breathed as I stared at the floor-length mirror. Though I couldn't see the corset, it made its presence under my dress known by the constant pain. "I can barely breathe." I tugged at my dress, as if it would help.

  "Princess, this is what women are supposed to wear. I'm sure you will get used to it," Justine said.

  "That's not likely," I muttered under my breath.

  I sighed, only to feel a sharp pain as my sides protested the constriction.

  I stomped my foot and crossed my arms. "This is absolutely ridiculous. I can barely breathe in this thing." I gestured towards myself. "How the hell am I supposed to eat?"

  "Language!" I heard someone hiss sharply from behind me.

  Carefully, I turned around and watched as a woman with black hair, gray eyes and a beautiful, pointy face walked across the room. Her hair was up in a tight bun, she wore what I could best describe as a dress-suit of some sort, and she carried an agenda-like book in her arms.

  "I've been wondering when I would meet you," the woman said as she opened her book. "I'm Anya, your adviser."

  "Adviser?" I questioned.

  Anya glanced up from her agenda to look at me with piercing eyes. "As a royal, you have an adviser. An adviser knows every detail of what goes on with their royal subject and gives advice on every aspect of and choice made in the day-to-day life of said royal."

  "So... you’re basically saying you are in charge of this miserable thing I am forced to call my life?" I replied smartly.

  She nodded her head with a sour expression on her face. "As my first advice for you, Princess, it would be wise to get rid of that nasty attitude of yours. All actions have consequences."

  I rolled my eyes. "I've been told."

  "Then you should do well to remember it. That mouth of yours will get you flogged by Prince Fallmonte."

  I pursed my lips as a tear tried to force itself from my eyes. "I apologize. I'm trying, but..." I paused to take an exasperated breath. "It's hard to do this when I didn't want it. I never wanted this life." I began pacing as tears slipped from my eyes. "And Theodore, he's a nightmare. He's so angry all the time and he scares me." After a few more passes, I stopped. "How am I supposed to live like this? If things play out the way he has planned, I’ll have to marry him and have children with him." I brought my hand up to my mouth as the thought of him and I in bed together caused my stomach to churn. "I can’t give myself to that man like is expected of me."

  By now my ladies were looking worried and slightly confused. Anya, who had finally had enough, set aside her agenda and held me at arm’s length.

  "Stop crying," she said firmly.

  And I did.

  "What you need to understand is that no royal before you has ever had the choice of living this life. They were born into the duty, just like you. They, of course, were raised in Linacre, unlike you, so they were well accustomed to the lifestyle. When it comes to life inside these courts, you can choose to look at all the bad or you can look at all the good; but at the end of the day, what is expected of you will not change."

  Anya dropped her hands and gathered her agenda.

  "Just... behave, and you will see how good things can be here."

  I shook my head. "How is behaving going to change things between Theodore and myself?"

  "Linacrean men are raised with strong values. They will always defend those values; so when you misbehave, he reacts. Change the way you act and you will see a different side of him."

  "Values?" I asked, confused.

  Anya flipped through a few pages. "Yes, your lessons for those start tomorrow at 10 am."

  I let out a sigh. "There’s no way around this, is there?"

  Without looking up, Anya shook her head.

  I turned away from everyone and made my way over to my balcony, where I could see the town outside the royal courts. It was beautiful. The houses closest to the royal courts were what I could only describe as plantations; as they went out further, the plantations turned to colonials, which shrank into Tudors and then eventually morphed into little cottages.

  I began to wonder what I would be like if I had grown up in Linacre instead of America. Would their rules and customs have molded me into an ideal Linacrean woman, or would I still have been bothered by it all?

  I bit my lip. "Fine. Let's go to lunch."

  . . .

  I was in absolutely no hurry to see the prince, so I took my time, making sure I walked as slow as I could behind my adviser. My ladies—who kept close to me in case I needed their assistance, followed along even slower.

  But it was inevitable, and I was soon walking through the doors of the dining hall. In the center of the room, a long table offered seating for almost twenty people—eight to each side and one on each end. Three of the four walls consisted of almost nothing but windows, framed by thick curtains that were pulled to the sides to let in the bright light of midday.

  My eyes went to the head of the table, only the prince was occupying the table.

  "Remember your attitude," Anya whispered into my ear as I passed her to walk over to his side.

  Reaching him, I sank into a curtsy, smiling as best I could despite the disgust I felt.

  "Your Highness," I addressed him.

  I saw his mouth twitch slightly as he rose from his seat. He brought my hand to his lips. "My Lady," he greeted back. "Shall we?" he asked as he pulled out a chair for me.

  After I took my seat, he sat back down and stared at me, his intense gaze searching... or wondering about something.

  "Don't speak unless you are spoken to," I heard my mother’s wretched voice snap at me from inside my head.

  I pressed my lips firmly together, just in case he said something I found unpleasant and I wanted to shoot my mouth off at him. It felt like we sat in silence for several minutes before he finally spoke.

  "How have you settled in?" he asked me.
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  "I'm still adjusting," was all I could say as a butler poured us glasses of tea. "Thank you."

  "This is definitely different from the American culture you were raised in," he almost sneered as our butler began serving us lunch.

  "I like American culture. It’s simple," I responded as I took a bite of sprout salad.

  "Don't speak such ignorance," he snapped, then lifted his glass of tea to his lips.

  I wanted more than anything to lash back, but I knew I shouldn't. That would cause nothing but trouble on my end, and trouble was the last thing I wanted.

  "Yes. Of course. I'm sorry, Your Highness."

  This response seemed to ease him.

  "I'm sure your adviser has informed you about your lessons."

  I nodded my head silently.

  "Good." He took a bite and chewed for several seconds before swallowing. "The quicker we un-Americanize you, the better for us all."

  "Excuse me!" I let slip.

  I heard Anya let out a gasp from behind me that I ignored.

  "If you think your silly little lessons will change who I am, you are dead wrong!" I yelled. I could see the vein in Theodore's forehead pulsating. "Go ahead and try to change me, but I will fight back."

  I flinched as Theodore swiped his arm across the table, knocking all the dishes to the floor. Then he pushed himself to his feet and leaned into my face.

  "I'm going to make things clear for you," he breathed in my face. "You are my future wife, meaning anything you do from here on out reflects upon me. I will not have you making a mockery of the name Fallmonte. If I so much as see you eating with the wrong fork, I swear upon all that is holy, I will take you across my knee and not stop until you are unable to sit for a month."

  I bit my lip. "I won't allow it," I challenged.

  I should've just kept my mouth shut.

  Theodore grabbed me by my upper arm and wrenched me from my chair. Half dragging me, he towed me from the dining hall to another room off the long hall.

  "Let go of me!" I shouted, wrenching my arm from his grip as he closed the door behind us.