Royal Rebel

by Jenny Frame

  George had said her goodbyes, and efficiently worked her way down the crowds waiting for them outside, receiving small gifts, shaking hands, and taking pictures with the people, thanking them for coming along, but as usual, Bea lagged well behind her.

  At the moment a long line of little children were lining up to give her flowers. The public loved her, and George was delighted to let her have the limelight.

  Cammy walked to her side and whispered, “She’s a natural, isn’t she?”

  George felt like her chest might burst with pride as she watched Bea bend down to the children’s level, and engulf them in hugs, making sure she gave each one her time.

  “I always knew she would be, although Lali looks as if she’s getting increasingly agitated.” Lali looked at her watch constantly as she passed the flowers Bea received to Major Fairfax and the aides behind them.

  “We are running twenty minutes behind, ma’am,” Cammy said.

  “It’s worth it, Captain. We’ll just take a shorter lunch before the next appointment. It’s the children who are important.”

  “Princess Rozala called you by the way. She asked if you could call her back at your earliest convenience. She sounded a bit upset.”

  George let out a sigh, and watched Bea say goodbye to the last child and Lali gently manoeuvred her towards the car. She had been planning to call Roza later about the press pictures of her out late last night, and maybe now was as good as ever.

  “This was her first day at Timmy’s. Why do I get the feeling she’s going to give me a list of complaints?” George gave the crowd one last wave before Cammy opened the car door and she got in.

  Lali did the same at the other side and Bea slipped into the car beside George. “Those kids were so cute, Georgie. I didn’t keep us back too much, did I?”

  George leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, making the crowds outside cheer at the tender moment. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “That means I did. Lali was prodding me the whole time, trying to get back to the car, but I’m sorry, I just can’t walk away when there are people who want to talk to me.”

  “I wouldn’t want you ever to change, my darling. We can make up the time.”

  They both waved to the crowds until they got out of sight, and then Bea kicked off her heels, and sighed, “Ah, that’s better.”

  George leaned forward and asked Cammy to get Roza on the phone. “Roza called. I’m expecting her first day hasn’t gone well.”

  “Give her the benefit of the doubt, Georgie,” Bea said as she took a bottle of water from the fridge in the car.

  “You saw the pictures in the press this morning—she was out partying and drinking as if she hadn’t a care in the world. How does that look to our UN partners who are being shelled by her ex-girlfriend’s weapons?”

  “I take your point, but when I met with her, she seemed hurt and…lonely. Yes, I’d say lonely,” Bea said sadly.

  George shut her eyes for a second, just to think before she spoke. “Bea, I know, and that’s why she’s here, to be part of our family. I want to help her, but she doesn’t make it easy for me after events like last night. I already had to fight the prime minister for her to be allowed in the country.”

  “Bo Dixon? Why? It’s your family. Why shouldn’t she come?”

  “We aren’t just a family, Bea. We are both servants of the government and representatives of the people. The PM is concerned lest any part of the arms scandal attaches itself to Britain. She felt Denbourg were passing off their problem to us.”

  Bea took a swig of her water and said, “Oh, tell her to go and mind her own bloody business.”

  George laughed softly. “I should ignore my prime minister? This coming from the anti-monarchist I met over a year ago?”

  “Oh, shut up.” Bea stuck out her tongue at her. “That was before you enticed me with your blue eyes and good looks.”

  George leaned into Bea and whispered softly, “Oh, really?”

  Bea trailed her fingers teasingly along her jaw, and George’s heart began to pound. It didn’t take much for her to get lost in Bea, but just as they began to breathe each other in, Cammy said, “Princess Rozala on the line, ma’am.”

  Roza’s voice filled the back of the state car. “Your Majesty? Are you there?”

  They broke apart quickly, and George cleared her throat. “I’m here, Roza. Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not all right. I was kept waiting till lunchtime to meet with this Lennox person and then she had the audacity to send me home.”

  George glanced at Bea. She knew Lennox King was a professional and her wife held her in high regard, so there must be a reason why she sent her home.

  “Really? I was always led to believe Lennox was a very punctual and dedicated person. There must be a reason why you were kept waiting. Were you there on time?”

  “Of course…I mean I might have been a little late.”

  “How late, Roza?” George asked her in a firm voice.

  There was a long sigh and then Roza admitted, “Maybe three hours, but I was out last night.”

  Bea shook her head in disbelief, and George was more than a little embarrassed that her wife had gone to the trouble to set this up for Roza, and no doubt twist some arms to make it happen, and Roza was treating the job with disdain. Timmy’s was everything to Bea, and George would not allow Roza to treat her position with disrespect.

  “Yes, I and all of Europe knew you were out last night. Something I do not want to see repeated. The Queen Consort’s reputation hinges on your behaviour at Timmy’s, and I will not see that jeopardized.”

  “But George—”

  “No buts. No more late nights, Roza. No more stories in the press. Turn up on time, and do as you are asked by Lennox King. Are we quite clear?”

  There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a small voice answered, “Yes.”

  George felt sorry for her then and Bea mouthed to her, “Be nice.”

  “Roza, we love you and we want you here, but we each have a role we must play. You’re representing our family when you are out at a nightclub or working at Timmy’s. You are representing us, and you know how important that is.”

  “I know. It won’t happen again, George.”

  Bea smiled and squeezed her hand.

  “That’s all I need to hear. Come to Windsor at the weekend—we’ll go riding. On Sundays we have a big family meal just like the old days. Bea’s parents join us and we have a great time.”

  “I’d like that.”

  George said her goodbyes and finished the call.

  Bea said, “Sounds like Lex stamped her authority today. I knew she could hold her own.”

  “Hmm. I wish I could take Roza on some engagements with me. Try and teach her some responsibility, on the job as it were. Uncle Christian has left her to flounder under the microscope of the press without proper guidance on how to carry out her role. Unfortunately I don’t think the PM would wear it.”

  Bea turned around to face George. “Then let me take her under my wing. You see things in a black-and-white kind of way, but I think we could connect. I’ll ask her to girls’ night.”

  George chuckled. Girls’ night happened once a month, barring any official engagements, and Cammy and herself were banned from entering the palace cinema room where Bea and her friends watched films, drank wine, and ate snacks.

  “I think she would love that.”

  *

  Roza lay on her bed, her eyes sore from the tears that were now all cried out. After her phone call with George, she felt alone and guilty for disappointing someone she really looked up to. Maybe she was what her father, what everyone, said—selfish and a disappointment.

  She clutched a small silver photo frame. In the frame was a moving picture of her mother, Queen Maria. A woman who had given her life, but who was a stranger to her.

  As a child the silver frame had sat on her dressing table, and then at night she would ta
ke it to bed, hide it under her pillow, and imagine her mama coming into the nursery and reading a story before bed.

  Roza imagined every moment of that scene. The story, her smile, her laugh, the smell of her perfume, and the song she would sing as Roza drifted off to sleep. Then as she got older she began to resent the woman she never knew, the perfect woman whom she looked so much like but could never hope to live up to.

  Roza didn’t look at the picture often these days, but she never travelled without it. She put the picture in her bedside drawer and lay on her side gazing at the news report playing on the TV.

  It showed various pieces of footage of Thea as they reported the continuing search for her and the crime syndicate she was part of.

  “Computer, pause video.” The footage stopped on an image of Thea looking directly into the camera.

  Rosa reached out to touch her face, but pulled back when her fingers went through the image. Fresh tears filled her eyes. When she looked at Thea, she felt a mixture of emotions. Hurt, anger, desperation, panic. Deep down she knew the relationship had been toxic for a long time, but she was trapped in a vicious cycle of emotional need for someone to love her and defiance towards her father. The more he disapproved, the more he pushed her into Thea’s arms.

  She held up her left hand and gazed at the ring on her finger. It weighed heavily on her, but there was a small part of her that didn’t want to give up that one thing that represented a relationship of her own choosing and someone she had thought had cared for her.

  “Computer, call Thea Brandt.”

  The computer responded and tried to connect to the number in her contact list. Roza knew calling was futile—Thea blocked her calls—but she just wanted to hear her voice. The voicemail recording played. This is Thea Brandt. Please leave a message and I’ll be delighted to get back to you.

  So polite. You’d never guess she was a criminal, but that’s what Thea was—polite, charming, and terrifying, and Roza had seen all three.

  She jumped when there was a knock at her bedroom door.

  “May I come in, ma’am?” Perri called through the door.

  Roza sat up quickly and wiped her fresh tears away. “Yes, come in.”

  Perri walked in and said nothing for a few seconds as she observed the evidence of Roza’s puffy eyes and damp cheeks, but to her credit she said nothing. “I wondered, since you’re back early for the day, if you would like to get out for a while.”

  “I wanted to go shopping, but Ravn insisted it wasn’t possible with the paparazzi and everything.”

  Perri smiled warmly at her. “I wasn’t thinking about shopping, and I’ve already cleared it with Major Ravn.”

  “If it gets me out of here, then I’m game.” Roza got up and went to her wardrobe. “What should I wear?”

  “Something comfortable.”

  *

  Roza followed Perri from a gravel car park up to a wrought-iron set of gates. Major Ravn and Johann were up ahead, already through the gates and checking what was beyond.

  Whatever this place was, it was quiet on a weekday and she was sure there were no cameras waiting to take pictures of her. “Where are you taking me, Perri?”

  Perri stopped at the gates and touched the bars as if remembering some nice memory. “This is a place where your mother used to come a few days a week, just to get away from it all. It’s a secret garden attached to the large Edwardian house over there, but it’s open to the public. Just wait till you see inside.”

  She opened the gate further and they went in. Roza couldn’t see what was so special about it so far. There was a path, overgrown with weeds and wildflowers. Up ahead trees and plants followed the line of the path, and were so thick, she couldn’t see what was ahead.

  “Perri? Are you taking me to an overgrown jungle?” Roza moaned.

  “Just around this bend in the path and you’ll see this hidden gem.”

  Roza sighed. Perri had pulled her away from the comfort of her bedroom for this?

  They rounded the corner and Roza gasped. “It’s…it’s…”

  In front of them was an Edwardian sunken garden. Classical pillars with flowers and plants hung down and twisted around the stonework. The path they were on turned into a stone walkway that led along to a pergola at the other end.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Perri said.

  “Yes, it is. It’s so quiet and tranquil.”

  “I know, you would never guess it was in the middle of London, would you? Let’s walk along to the pergola.”

  They started to walk and Roza asked, “How did you know about this place?”

  “Your mama used to come here all the time to sketch, when she wasn’t at art college.”

  Roza looked around at her sharply. “My mama went to art college? I didn’t know that. I mean, I knew she drew and painted—I’ve seen her pictures at the palace—but I didn’t know she studied it.”

  “Oh yes.” Perri stopped halfway along the walkway and leaned on the wall there to look down to the large pretty pond below. “She went to the London School of Art, just like your cousin Theo. Maria wanted to be an artist, before she met your father of course.”

  Roza joined Perri, leaning over the side. It really was so pretty here. A set of stairs led down to the pond where some ducks were swimming and playing, and one elderly lady was sitting on a park bench throwing bread to them. It was the only person she’d seen since they arrived. It was certainly a place to think and feel calm. All you could hear was the trickle of water and the birds in the trees.

  Ravn and Johann stopped up ahead, and the others stayed further back behind them, securing the area.

  “I never knew she was really serious about art,” Roza said.

  “She was very serious, and at that time she never thought she would have many royal responsibilities, so she could dedicate her life to art. She was only the oldest child of the King of Spain’s second son, remember. Along with your Aunt Sofia, they didn’t really expect to be in the royal limelight much. Then your mother met your father, and your aunt met your Uncle Edward.”

  No one had ever talked to her with so much freedom about her mother. Queen Maria was a touchy subject in the family, and she’d learned to stop asking questions after a while.

  “Perri? What was Mama really like?”

  Perri smiled but didn’t look around. She kept looking down at the ducks frolicking in the pond.

  “Maria was beautiful inside and out. Friendly, thoughtful, kind, and…serene. Yes, I would say serene, and that serenity touched all those who were close to her.”

  “I can’t imagine it affecting Father. God knows what she saw in him,” Roza said with anger in her voice.

  Perri snapped her head around. “That’s where you’re wrong. Christian was a brash young man when Maria met him at a party. A brash and wild young man who went through ladies like they were going out of fashion. He was young, in the first year of university, and enjoyed every aspect of student life. He drank too much and partied too much, and his father, your grandfather, wasn’t best pleased with him, I can tell you.”

  Roza couldn’t believe this description of her father. The man she knew was cold, distant, a stickler for discipline and doing things in the correct manner. “What happened to him to make him so different?”

  “Your mama. Let’s walk along to the pergola.”

  At the end of the walkway they went into the classical stone pergola and sat on the stone benches there. Major Ravn and her team stood by the entrance.

  The view was spectacular from here and Roza could quite imagine a young artist being inspired by the gardens. “So what happened?”

  Perri chuckled. “Christian chased her relentlessly, but she was never going to be interested in someone who behaved like he did at the time. Don’t get me wrong, she found him handsome and attractive, but she told me she was sure there was much more beneath the rebellious image he liked to show the world. So he told her he would prove to her he could be exactly what she needed,
and he loved her, no matter how long it would take.”

  “I never even knew Father went to university,” Roza said.

  “He didn’t, for long. Christian left in his first year and went back home to train at Denbourg’s army officer training college. He was dedicated to his training, and it really made him a new man. A disciplined, helpful man who always thought of others before himself. He never forgot your mother and wrote her emails all through his training and first deployments. Maria said she gradually fell in love with him through his love letters, as they really were. He changed his life because of your mother, and won her love.”

  Roza stood and walked over to the side and tried to gulp back the confusing emotions she was feeling. She had always thought she resembled her mother and had none of her father in her, but going by this, she had more than a little of King Christian in her.

  “I wish I had known that man. Not the man he is now.”

  “I know he has been hard to live with since Maria died. I think he felt she was the one who had made him a better person, and after she was gone, he shut away all his emotions.”

  Roza felt her emotions threatening to spill out. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. How could someone so kind and gentle like Queen Maria love him?

  They stayed quiet for about five minutes, taking the time to enjoy the secluded garden.

  “Do you draw, Roza?”

  “I used to. Not any more.”

  “You should try it again. Your mama found great peace here, and so could you.”

  “I’m not my mother, and I’m sick of people expecting me to be,” Roza snapped.

  Perri got up and walked over to Roza. “How do they?”

  “Everyone. Father, Gussy, Aunt Sofia, you, the public. Everyone sees the royal rebel who is everything Queen Maria wasn’t. I see the way they look at me.”

  “I think you’re projecting your own fears on others.”

  She thought back to lunchtime when Lennox King walked into the office. She’d been so angry at being kept waiting, but even angrier when Lex dismissed her. “It is true. I’ve seen it all my life—I saw it this morning from this woman I’m meant to be working with. She looked at me like I was wasting her time, like I was a silly party girl.”