by Geneva Lee
“Because you’re my best friend and because it’s not a bother at all. No matter what happens I’m here for you. You’re my family.”
“I know. I love you,” Belle said.
“I love you, too. Look, we’re almost there. Make sure you call Edward. I know he’s wondering,” I reminded her. Edward, my husband’s brother and our mutual best friend, had begun his own bump watch since Belle had discovered she was expecting over the holidays.
“He’s on his honeymoon.” She was stalling, creating excuses so she wouldn’t have to face the doctor.
“Well, you shouldn’t have told him then,” I teased her.
“Obviously, I have no self-control when it comes to secrets.”
I paused, momentarily uncertain how to respond. We’d both kept secrets from each other over the last few years. This was different, though. She needed to see that. “Happy news shouldn’t be kept secret.”
“I just need a little longer to get used to the idea,” she admitted.
That was something I could relate to. “Promise to call me.”
“I will. I better go before Smith takes a battering ram to the door. He’s even more unbearably protective now. Talk later.”
The call ended and I dropped the phone into my lap, my mind on my best friend. I wished I could be there with her. I wished that I had known the right thing to say to comfort her. I wished Belle wasn’t scared at all. Belle had been by my side during my first sonogram when Alexander couldn’t be. I felt like I was letting her down with my absence. With more and more demands on my time, I felt that way a lot lately.
But our lives were different now, and I reminded myself Smith would be by Belle’s side for the entire appointment. That wasn’t what was really bothering me, though. I had yet to tell my best friends about my own pregnancy. After Belle’s miscarriage, I’d always worried about what would happen when one of us got pregnant again. If I did and Belle didn’t? How could I comfort her? How could she stand to be around me? I didn’t want to lose her. That was the real reason I’d made Alexander promise to keep it a secret.
Then again, I hadn’t even seen a doctor yet. We’d been out of town when I’d realized I was pregnant and I’d put it off when we came home. There were patronages to catch up on and emails that needed a response. The baby wouldn’t be here for months. It was silly to stress about it. Still, it wasn’t as if I could hide what was happening to my own body much longer. Every day since my wedding—and a little bit before that—photographers had taken photos of me, posting them to tabloid websites that speculated on the size of my stomach. It had taken me a long time to get used to it, especially given the eating disorder I’d battled since my teen years. Most of the time I felt perfectly healthy, no doubt owing to Alexander’s unconditional love. However, it was a little harder to maintain mental peace and self-care when people noticed if I was bloated from eating too much pizza.
Now I had another reason to worry about the gossip rags. I definitely didn’t want Belle to find out that way. The sooner my best friend got the good news that I was praying she would, the better. I couldn’t even consider the other outcome.
“Everything okay?” Brex watched me from the rear view mirror, his warm brown eyes filled with concern. Of course, he’d been listening. It was his job to know everything going on around him. It didn’t change how strange it was to know how few of my conversations were private anymore. Sometimes even when I was alone, it felt like the walls were watching me. I supposed it was normal. I had traded an average life to be married to one of the most powerful men in the world. I just wished it were different. At least Norris pretended he didn’t overhear personal matters.
“Everything is fine,” I reassured him.
“How is Belle?” Georgia twisted in her seat, her glossy, black hair swinging over her shoulder like a shampoo commercial. Once again, I wondered why she’d had to come along. Given the sordid past she shared with my husband—a dark mark on Alexander’s history that we rarely talked about—no one could blame me for not wanting the woman around. The fact she was gorgeous and confident and a former assassin only made matters worse.
“Why do you care?” I snapped, instantly feeling regret. Given my wildly swinging hormones, it was a little harder to remind myself not to jump to conclusions.
“She is married to my oldest friend.” Georgia’s scarlet-painted lips twisted into a pained smile. It seemed like she was trying to be friendly and finding it rather difficult.
I forced myself to do the same. There was no need to add any more tension to the car. Brex and Georgia had enough simmering between them.
“She was just checking in.” Regardless of Georgia’s intentions, it wasn’t my place to spill my best friend’s news, especially given Georgia’s relationship with Smith. He’d probably want to tell her himself. It was strange knowing that these two people I knew so very little about—Smith and Georgia— had such deep connections to the most important people in my life.
Her dark eyes scanned me for a moment as if she didn’t believe a word I was saying. But if she wanted to challenge me, she thought better of it. She turned in her seat and began to bicker with Brex over the radio. So it was back to this.
“I don’t want it on,” he explained. “I need to hear what’s going on around me.”
That’s why we couldn’t listen to music? Was this going to be my whole life? Was I going to spend every day being driven from place to place in total silence while everyone around me worried that any moment someone might jump out and grab me? It was a bit much to swallow. Alexander had warned me.
It was hard to believe that only a few years ago I was just a university student trying to dodge being set up on a blind date with Belle’s older brother. Instead, that day had brought Alexander and his complicated world into my life. I wouldn’t trade him nor any of it. Not for freedom. Not to be able to listen to radio stations. Not for a life without bodyguards overhearing my phone calls. I wouldn’t give him up for anything.
I only wished Alexander would relax a little. There had been no security incidents I knew of for months now. They had even arrested someone recently in conjunction with his father’s assassination. But my husband had a long memory. I knew that from how he held onto grudges that stretched to a time before I knew him. He held on to control even more tightly. Even my presence at the symposium today had gone unannounced—a decision from the security team. The council had rolled with it, deciding to make it a surprise. It was a tip of the hat to my life before I’d married the King of England, to back when I’d worked on charity campaigns.
Georgia’s voice pitched up an octave and I did my best to block out the now heated argument coming from the front of the SUV. Picking up my phone, I began to scroll through the headlines. I liked to think it was part of my job to be up on current affairs, even if I didn’t want to listen to the news in the bathroom. More and more, though, it felt like it was just part of Alexander’s job. At one time, I’d expected to talk about treaties and legislation and the rising cost of oil, amongst other things. Instead, I had spent the last year tucked safely behind castle walls with our daughter. I reminded myself that I wouldn’t trade anything for my family. No matter how frustrating I found my position at times.
I paused and tapped on a story about the upcoming Sovereign Games. It had been a few years since the UK had hosted the national sporting event. I hadn’t thought about it in ages. My world had been different then. I’d only had a passing interest in the games. Now I saw them in a whole new light. Skimming the article sparked a few things I didn’t recall. The games had been an initiative introduced by King Albert. According to the story, there had been a lot of speculation as to whether or not Alexander would continue and step into the role of host. But what had really caught my attention was that a member of the Royal family had confirmed the games would proceed. Alexander hadn’t said anything to me about them. Then again, there were a lot of things he didn’t discuss with me lately.
The event, which
is an invitation-only competition in a number of popular sports, draws large crowds to various venues throughout Great Britain. Although no invitations have been formally presented, a few names stand out as likely candidates. Among them is Anderson Stone, the 25-year-old racing superstar ranked among the top three competitors in the world. Mr. Stone, if chosen to compete, makes it a safe bet that one of this year’s events will take place at Silverstone.
I skipped the rest of the article. This was why Alexander had been checking racing scores this morning. At the time I’d thought I was going crazy. Never once had he mentioned enjoying car racing. Considering how his sister had died and that he’d avoided driving for years, it had seemed weird. But why wouldn’t he just tell me why he was suddenly interested? It didn’t matter. It wasn’t that he kept the games a secret so much as it was beginning to feel like my life with him was divided down the middle. I loved him. He loved me. We were happy. Neither of us complained about the sex. But then there was another side to our relationship, or rather, another side to Alexander. It seemed as if he had systematically cut me out of the duties and responsibilities I had agreed to take on. There were supposed to be a lot more days like today—days where I was out raising awareness and supporting charity programs. When I tried to do more, to be more active, to take on more of my responsibilities, Alexander stopped me at every turn. I hadn’t minded as much when I was pregnant, or even when our daughter was a baby. It felt more important to stay home then. Now that I was pregnant again less than two years after our first child had been born, I had to face facts. I suspected we would continue to fill more rooms in the castle. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other—and I wanted to have his children. I just didn’t think I should stay home with my feet up waiting for a baby the whole time.
We arrived behind the motorcade. I knew the drill and waited in the car while Brex confirmed security sweeps had taken place. Georgia remained in the car with me, the silence between us saying more than any words we could share. But it wasn’t just the atmosphere in the car. The air felt heavy. Wrong somehow. I didn’t know if it was the presence of Georgia and her stony demeanor or if Alexander had simply infected me with his own brand of paranoia. When Brex opened my car door, I breathed a sigh of relief. Getting out carefully, I arranged my Givenchy coat to cover the tiny baby bump that showed at the right angle, even with my dress’s flowing skirt. If I could keep that secret a little longer…
All around me photographers snapped pictures, rearranging their own bodies in strange ways to get every vantage point possible. I wondered if one of them had caught sight of me adjusting the coat. That would be a subject of gossip. It was ridiculous how obsessed they were with the status of my womb. Brex kept his body close to mine, shielding me as much as possible while Georgia joined and flanked my other side. It never felt quite right to be this close to someone other than Alexander. I would never admit that to my husband. His ego didn’t need the boost. He wouldn’t be able to fit it inside Buckingham Palace if it got any bigger.
The symposium was being held at a renovated school in East London. Usually, I found myself in grand ballrooms or at the theater, Alexander by my side. The simple school was a breath of fresh air compared to those places. Children’s art had been framed, lining the corridor that Brex led me through. We were met at the end of the cramped hall by a beaming woman in a lilac dress suit. She dipped into a slight curtsy and I felt my cheeks grow hot.
I’d learned to expect this. Liaisons and MPs and community leaders were always advised on Royal protocol before a member of the family greeted them. Despite being married to Alexander, I didn’t really feel like the Queen and would never get used to it. My husband had confided in me once that he didn’t like it either. But not liking it was different than feeling embarrassed by it. At times I felt like an imposter in my own life: a fake playing a role who would be found out at any moment.
“Your Majesty, it is an honor to have you in attendance today. I’m Mrs. March. I spoke with your team.”
“Of course,” I said, torn between trying to sound casual or benevolent—and achieving neither. When exactly would I get good at this?
“If you’ll follow me, they’re almost ready for you. The keynote is about to wrap up.” Mrs. March started to lead us toward a door marked backstage.
That wasn’t in the schedule I’d been given when I was asked to do this event. “I’m sorry. Did you say the keynote is wrapping up?”
“Yes,” Miss March said with a nod, “and then you will be presenting the award. That reminds me. I have some notes for you. We can’t tell you what a thrill it is to have you here to do the honors.”
She passed a couple of index cards to me and my spirits plummeted.
“I thought I was asked to participate in the symposium.” I wished my brain would catch up with my mouth, which seemed to be running away with itself. Did it really matter what they’d asked me to do? Yes, said a little voice I tried to ignore. I’d wanted to be included. I’d wanted to contribute more than a quick public appearance.
“We would never expect such an intrusion on your time.” Miss March seemed horrified at the thought. Next to her, it looked like Georgia was trying to bite back a smirk. We’d gotten all dressed up, dragged two dozen guards through London traffic, and we were here to give out a trophy. Georgia was probably enjoying this.
“It was just a miscommunication,” I said, glancing around for a momentary out. My turbulent emotional state threatened to get the best of me and I wasn’t going to give Georgia the satisfaction of seeing me crack. “Is there any way I could use the loo?”
“It’s right this way.” Miss March started to take me in the opposite direction, but Georgia stepped between us.
“I’ll take her,” she said sweetly.
I wondered if she was fooling anyone. Miss March stepped away, looking possibly mortified that she’d presumed to help me. I sighed, knowing this was my life now.
If I had hoped for a moment alone, I should have known better. Usually when Norris was with me, he stood outside the door, giving me space to panic or cry or touch up my lipstick. Georgia escorted me inside.
“This really isn’t necessary,” I said.
“That’s why you’re not the bodyguard,” Georgia pointed out. “Alexander was quite specific with his instructions when he discovered you’d rearranged his security assignments. We’re not to let you out of our sight.”
The petulant streak in me wanted to remind her that they’d sat with their backs turned to me in the car. Then, I realized one of them had probably watched me in the mirror the whole time. I gritted my teeth and opened my purse, digging inside for lipstick. I reapplied it halfheartedly, not really needing to. I had asked to come in here and now I had to make it look like it had been for reasons other than to quiet my nerves. I didn’t trust myself to use the toilet without breaking into tears. I definitely didn’t want Georgia reporting to Alexander that I’d been crying in the loo.
“What shade is that?” Georgia asked, eyeing the tube in my hand.
Was she for real? She wasn’t really the type for idle chit-chat. Unlike me, Georgia seemed to have a knack for speaking in an offhanded manner. I didn’t believe for a second she was interested in swapping make-up tips or braiding each other’s hair. “It’s Fuck-Off-Red from the Let’s-Not-Pretend-We’re-Friends collection.”
Georgia didn’t so much as blink. Instead, she shrugged. “You’re right. We’re not friends. I was being nice. I promised Brex I would be less of a bitch.”
“But you’re so good at it,” I said.
“Only compared to some.” Georgia leaned against the sink, folding her arms over her black fitted jacket. “Are you ready?”
So much for collecting my thoughts. I dropped the lipstick back into my bag and nodded. It wasn’t really my fault she rubbed me the wrong way. No warm-blooded woman would be able to look at her husband’s former submissive without getting a little jealous. I had once thought that Alexander’s playboy past wou
ld be the hardest thing for me to overcome. Now I still questioned if I was enough for him. I could blame Georgia for that.
Before I was married, she had warned me that Alexander needed things—physically, emotionally—that I would never be able to give him. Was I failing him? Was that why he was so possessive of me now? He promised me he didn’t need that in our relationship. But every time I offered him my submission, he had taken it. Maybe Georgia had been right all along. Maybe that was why he controlled my outings so strictly. The thought made my stomach turn. Given that I was only ever a few hours from morning sickness, it wasn’t a welcome sensation.
We returned to the others, and I did my best to tuck my thoughts away. None of that was why I was here. Once we were shown into the wings, I excused myself to look over the notes they’d given me. There wasn’t much to do. Everything had been written out for me. Everything had been planned. I was simply a player in someone else’s game.
CHAPTER THREE
CLARA
The speech was taking forever. Since I wasn’t going to participate, I wanted to get my part over with. I peeked between the curtains that kept the audience from seeing backstage. The auditorium was completely full, packed with people who shared something in common with me. They had all come here because they wanted to change the world. The Child Watch Initiative was a relatively new coalition aimed at everything from increasing access to education, to promoting STEM courses for girls, to putting a stop to child trafficking. They were out there learning what they could do to impact children’s lives while I waited in the wings to present an award. My role was ceremonial, just like my life was becoming.
“They’re almost ready for you,” Brex said, coming up beside me.
“Great,” I said flatly.
He stole a glance at me, no doubt picking up on my tone. “Not what you thought?”