Royal Replicas

by Michael Pierce

  “Don’t be silly. I have plenty more dresses in my closet and an assistant to fix any errant strand of hair before our official meet-and-greet. I want to take advantage of all the time we have together. It will go by in the blink of an eye. Would you like a riding partner?”

  “I’d love one,” he said.

  She offered him her hand and he shook it.

  “I’ll meet you at the stables and help you get set up.”

  “I’m so excited!” she squealed.

  I forcefully took my arm back from the snake beside me.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Victoria Sandalwood. I’ll see you inside later,” Prince Byron said, strapping on his helmet, sliding on his sunglasses, and riding off toward the stables.

  “Yes, you will,” I said, more to myself than him. I should have pushed through the pain and joined him in the field when I had the chance since it literally hurt to watch him ride away.

  Constance grabbed my upper arm and gripped it tightly. “Nice try, sweetie. You won’t get him. Why don’t you go back to the house and wait with the rest of the runners-up? The Prince is mine.”

  CHAPTER 23

  T he palace was buzzing with excitement and activity. The time to meet the Prince was swiftly approaching and most of the other girls could barely contain themselves. On the other hand, Constance—who had changed into a new red dress since riding with Prince Byron—was huddled with Danielle and Jane, both shooting dagger-looks in my direction. I could only imagine what she was telling them about me, and I’m sure her words were painting a gigantic bullseye on my back.

  Beyond the girls’ eager anticipation of the arrival of their regal suitor, the palace staff seemed to be working on some important project with a quickly-approaching deadline, judging by their hastening urgency. It was difficult to navigate through the palace without either being redirected or running into rushing staff members. Was this all for the Prince?

  I tried to innocently maneuver past a palace worker carrying a ladder, when he made a sudden turn, causing me to jump out of the way. Just when I thought I had succeeded in escaping unscathed, a messenger drone weaving past the same ladder came at me head on. It pulled up at the last second, but still clipped the top of my head with its small plastic legs.

  I was already off balance, and the surprising force of the impact sent me toppling backward.

  “Excuse me,” a mechanical voice called out as the whining propellers merged with the din of commotion.

  I knew there was no way to recover. I was going down and was about to brace myself for impact when two wiry arms caught me before I could hit the ground.

  “That could have been bad,” a female voice said.

  The weals on my butt tingled just from the thought of hitting the floor. “That’s for sure,” I said, looking up and over my shoulder to find one of the cl—girls, Bethany, gazing down at me.

  I quickly regained my balance and placed a hand to my stinging head.

  That’s going to bruise.

  “I think I saw the Prince in the crowd,” Bethany said, giving me some space. “I thought maybe he’d caught your attention too.”

  “Nope,” I said. “I simply wasn’t paying attention.” Then I pulled over to what seemed like a safe island in the shifting sea of task-focused personnel. “What’s going on?”

  Bethany inched closer to me, to avoid being hit by two men carrying a long table.

  “I overheard someone say something about tonight,” she said.

  “You do realize that tells me nothing, don’t you?”

  She shrugged, people-watching now. “They like their secrets. You try asking someone and see if you can get more information.”

  If I went back to my room, I could call on Kimera; I thought our relationship had grown enough for her to tell me what all the commotion was about. But we’d soon be meeting the Prince in the Garden Room, anyway, so I decided to let them have their secret.

  “We should probably get going,” Bethany said. “Do you know where the Garden Room is? This place is so big, it’s too easy to get lost. Was your family’s estate in your home ward anything like this?”

  “They thought it was,” I said. “But no. This is a whole other level.”

  “Comes with the title, I guess.”

  “Did you not get a map of the palace and grounds?” I asked. Kimera had given me one while getting me ready in the morning.

  “I did, but I’ve never been much good at translating from paper to the real world,” Bethany said. “I heard you met the Prince earlier. Is that true?”

  “Word sure does travel fast. And you’re still talking to me?”

  “Why should it get me upset?”

  “It seems to be ruffling the feathers of other girls,” I said. “And it wasn’t just me.”

  “No?”

  “Of course, that hasn’t been part of the story going around. Constance showed up too.”

  “That’s not what she’s saying,” Bethany said, but it didn’t sound accusatory.

  Not surprising. “I think the Garden Room is this way,” I said, leading Bethany into the chaos.

  We maneuvered through the bustling palace staff, Bethany almost running right into a woman carrying vases of flowers in each hand; she nearly caused a disaster. I remained on the lookout for passing drones.

  My decent sense of direction got us to our desired destination. We weren’t the first to arrive, but also not the last. Constance and her newly-formed coven with Danielle and Jane entered behind us.

  The Garden Room was an offshoot of the main house, with three walls and a slanted ceiling made almost entirely of green-tinted glass. There was an assortment of seating areas, throw rugs and scattered tables with flower vases, drinks, and hors d'oeuvres. A lit hearth was cut into the one true wall. Sunlight poured into the room, which was muted by the tinted glass but still remained bright and airy.

  I received more icy glares and whispers among the girls once we were all in the room, waiting together. Bethany, though, stayed by my side, seemingly unfazed by the other girls’ responses toward me.

  “Hello, ladies,” came a bold voice from the entrance of the Garden Room.

  Squeals of excitement erupted when everyone finally noticed Prince Byron standing there, with the Queen standing at his side and numerous staff members waiting directly behind. I may have squealed a little on the inside.

  The Prince wore a gray suit to match his eyes, with a white shirt and a skinny black tie. His dark hair was combed back away from his face and he was now clean-shaven. His ruggedness was gone, replaced by striking noble refinement.

  He held a champagne flute in one hand and adjusted his crisp shirt cuff with the other.

  The Queen also held a glass of champagne and clinked it with a butter knife, requesting us to quiet down. “I would like to officially introduce you to Prince Byron DuFour the Second, of Easteria.”

  The staff members scooted around our royal host and hostess. One table bore filled glasses of champagne, and the staff distributed one to each of us.

  “Let us raise our glasses,” started the Queen. “To the next Princess of Westeria and to finding love with this fine young man. May this experience change your life forever.”

  “I thought we were all princesses now,” I whispered to Bethany.

  “I have no idea what we are,” she whispered back.

  The Queen took a sip of champagne, followed by the Prince, allowing the rest of us to then drink.

  “Thank you to Queen Dorothea for this amazing opportunity,” Prince Byron said. “All of you look so incredible. I’m excited to begin this journey with all of you and confident my future wife is in this room right now. And I’m determined to find her—to find you.

  “This process will be difficult for all of us, not just you. If at any point it becomes too overwhelming, please come and talk to me. Be honest with me and I promise to always be honest with you. Do your best to make this feel as normal as possible in this very abnormal situ
ation.”

  Our eyes met from across the room and I felt he was looking straight at me while he spoke. Maybe we did have an actual connection?

  “Go forth and mingle with these lovely young ladies of mine,” the Queen said, putting a hand on the Prince’s shoulder and nudging him into the room. “I’ll be back to check how things are progressing in an hour or so, at which time, there’ll be another announcement.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?” Piper was standing near Bethany and leaned in to us.

  “I would think bad news would just be sprung on us,” Bethany said.

  Prince Byron entered the room as the Queen departed and he was instantly mobbed by Eleanor, Jane, and Danielle. He started out by looking past them, but then gave the raving girls his attention, breaking our connection.

  Constance came up beside me with her champagne flute nearly empty. “I had such an exhilarating time riding with him. I don’t know about you, but Byron and I had instant chemistry.”

  Bethany was now talking to Piper, neither one of them listening in on the conversation in which I now found myself. Constance leaned into me and kept her voice down; I could smell sour champagne on her breath.

  “When he helped me down from my horse after our ride, he kissed me.” She pulled back and smiled, a smile looking anything but sweet.

  “I don’t care,” I said, but inside knew that wasn’t entirely true.

  “It was soooo good.” She licked her lips as if she could still taste him.

  I felt queasy.

  Piper left to join the mob of girls around the Prince, and Bethany turned her attention to us.

  “What are we talking about?” she asked.

  “Victoria says we should all just give up and go home. She’s already got the Prince’s heart in her back pocket,” Constance said.

  “Seriously?” I scoffed. “I said no such thing. If anything… never mind.”

  “Exactly. No sense in getting yourself in more trouble. I can’t listen to any more of this.” Constance downed the rest of her champagne, set down the flute on the nearest table, and stormed off.

  “She’s absolutely evil,” I said.

  “It’ll come out to the right people eventually,” Bethany said.

  Then Prince Byron was before us with the female throng in tow.

  “Hello. You must be Bethany,” he said.

  She giggled shyly. “How did you know?” She offered him a hand.

  He kissed her knuckles. “Process of elimination.”

  “I hope you’re not eliminating me.”

  “Certainly not,” he said and shifted his gaze to me. “Hi, there.”

  “Hi, yourself,” I said. “You clean up nice.”

  “You look exactly the same.”

  “Which is hopefully a—”

  “I’m not complaining,” Prince Byron said, offering me a hand as well.

  Some other girls tried to chime in on our brief exchange.

  “Yes, I’m the baby of the family. Two older brothers and one sister.”

  I tried to stifle a laugh. They should already know that.

  “May I steal you away?” Prince Byron asked, his hand still in mine.

  “You may,” I answered.

  “Excuse us, ladies,” he said and guided me by the hand to a loveseat by the hearth.

  CHAPTER 24

  T here was moaning and grumbling behind us, but the rest of the group allowed us to leave privately, though the corner of the room could hardly be considered private.

  We parted hands. I smoothed out the skirt of my dress and placed both hands in my lap. He sat back, his body turned toward me, laying an arm across the back cushions and crossing his legs.

  He started out by saying, “I missed you out in the field earlier.”

  “I heard you enjoyed yourself quite a bit,” I countered.

  “Is that so? Would this be from the biased opinion of the girl who stole me away from you?”

  “Perhaps,” I said, melting under the heat of his smile—not counting the fire in the hearth. “Did you kiss her?”

  “Proper ladies wouldn’t be kissing and telling.”

  And Constance was no proper lady. “So, you don’t deny it.”

  “We did kiss,” he simply said, and I noticed his careful choice of words. “Is that a problem? You do realize I must get to know each of you. Connections will be made and kisses shared; it’s all a part of building relationships.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “So, let’s not spend our short time together talking about someone else. Let’s talk about you. Who is Victoria Sandalwood? I know you love horses and riding. I know you can identify canary as a certain shade of yellow. What else should I know about you?”

  “You’ll have to come closer because it’s a secret and I don’t want the others to hear.”

  Prince Byron leaned in. “Do tell, m’lady.”

  “This has to stay just between us,” I started, then brought my lips to his ear. “I’m a clone of the late Princess Amelia.” I pulled back and judged his reaction. I’d tried to make a joke of the revelation currently destroying my entire world. It was easier to make light of the situation than attempting a serious discussion.

  He took a moment to reply, but his expression didn’t reveal much. “Your secret’s safe with me. We should be sure not to tell the other girls.”

  “Ha ha, very funny. Does this seriously not bother you?” Because it sure as hell bothers me.

  “Are you any less you?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I was me, but that was before discovering I was a genetic copy of seven other girls,” I said. I didn’t know who I was anymore—what I was. I no longer knew the correct pronoun.

  “You’re unique to me,” he said as he took back my hand, stroking my fingers with his thumb. “Your thoughts are you. Your reactions are you. Your likes and dislikes. Your style.” Prince Byron brought his free hand to my neck and pulled me toward him, my face leaning in to his.

  His lips were nearly on mine when I pulled away. I pictured him kissing Constance and was saddened by the thought we were so interchangeable.

  The hurt and confusion on his face was immediate. Prince Byron sat back, creating a huge chasm between us.

  I froze, waiting for a reprimand. Disobedience would only result in further punishment—or so I had grown accustom to back in the Ramsey estate.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought…” But the Prince couldn’t seem to finish his thought.

  My mind was reeling from self-consciousness and embarrassment, even though I didn’t have anything to really be embarrassed about. He had made the first move and I had shot him down. I didn’t know if I’d get another opportunity. Maybe this one act just destroyed any chance of us having a future.

  I lowered my head and took a deep breath. “No. I’m sorry, Your Highness. I’m not used to all this—to this kind of attention. It’s a little overwhelming.”

  Prince Byron’s confident smile returned. “You’ve turned me down twice now.” But his words weren’t accusatory.

  I hadn’t thought of that.

  “I’m not here to pressure you,” he continued. “I’m just looking for my perfect match. I respect your apprehension. And we can move more slowly—but our time is limited, you realize.”

  And as if on cue, a forceful voice broke our connection. “Prince Byron, may I steal you away?”

  We both looked up. Danielle was fixated on the Prince, her made-up eyes sparkling. Her teeth were so white, they practically sparkled too.

  He glanced at me, then at Danielle. He slapped both hands on his knees before pushing off the loveseat. “Of course, Danielle. Victoria, until next time,” he said before being led away by another beautiful version of me.

  I remained on the loveseat by myself for a while. I heard the other girls talking behind me and didn’t want to turn and face the conflict.

  “She’s playing games with him.” The voice was recognizably Constance’s.


  “She’s luring him with playing hard to get. It was so obvious.”

  “Totally obvious.”

  “Watch out for her.”

  “She’s not a threat.”

  A few minutes later, Bethany plopped down beside me. “How are you?”

  “Okay, I guess.” I sank into the loveseat until my head hit the back cushions. The Prince was preoccupied. I wasn’t presently concerned with being proper.

  “Don’t listen to them,” she said and waited for me to react. When I didn’t, she continued talking. “They’re just jealous.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “The world is full of crazy things. Like us for instance.”

  “I know. You do realize you’re ostracizing yourself from all the other girls in the house by sitting and talking with me, don’t you?”

  “I’m not here for them,” she said. “I’m here for him. I don’t want to get tangled up in the negativity. If you end up winning his heart over me, I’ll be sad, of course, for myself, but happy for you.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I haven’t come across many genuinely nice people in my life. My little sister back home, Mina, is one of the few. A real gentle soul. You remind me of her.”

  “Well, we are sisters too.”

  “I like that much better than the C-word,” I said, feeling confident about my place in this competition. If she won, I’d be happy for her as well.

  “Clone,” she said. “It isn’t so bad. You say it.”

  “I prefer not to.” I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud. I didn’t know how she could.

  It wasn’t long before the Queen returned to the Garden Room. Five of us had spent semi-private time with the Prince; Constance had stolen a second kiss, Jane had received a peck on the cheek, and Bethany earned a full hug. And Eleanor had had her hands all over him begging for more than he reciprocated for her desperate efforts.

  “Well, ladies, how are you enjoying Prince Byron’s company?” the Queen asked.

  The reaction was unanimously positive. Though I wasn’t a raving fan, I had to admit I’d enjoyed his company and was curious to spend more time with him.