I do. It’s water with lemon and it clears my head. I turn to him. His eyes are sympathetic. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you want to go for a walk? Get some fresh air.”
I return my gaze to the TV. “No. I don’t want to miss the news.”
He rubs my back and then pulls me toward him, tucking me against his side. I wrap my arm around his middle. I suppose it was good I wasn’t home. What if I had been at the palace and the entire monarchy was wiped away in one shot? Stop that. No worst-case scenarios.
Hours crawl by. No news. Oscar makes me stand and walk around the room a few times and keeps pressing lemon water on me.
And then it’s nightfall in Beaumont, close to two a.m. here, and the likelihood of news is getting ever smaller. It must be so dark and quiet there. People must be scared. Vaughn and Marge went to bed hours ago, but I remain vigilant.
Oscar cups my jaw and turns me toward him. “Pol, they can’t do aerial footage at night. We’re going to bed and we’ll check in the morning.”
I push his hand away and turn back to the TV. Communications blackout. Extent of the damage is unclear. The graphic of my island home and the swirling hurricane appears once more. It’s my only connection to home.
He speaks in a low urgent voice by my ear. “You can’t function without sleep, and Beaumont is depending on you.”
I slowly turn to him. “How can I sleep at a time like this?” I swallow hard. “What if I wake to find everything I love is gone? My parents, my palace, my kingdom.”
“We’re going to get through this together.” He stands and pulls me off the sofa. “And we’re going to hope for the best.”
I sit down again to watch the news, and he grabs the remote and turns the TV off. I leap off the sofa. “Hey! Give me that.”
He tosses the remote on the far corner of the sofa and grabs me before I can go for it. “You can watch first thing in the morning. You’re exhausted. Let me take care of you.” He frames my face with his hands. “I love you.”
My eyes well. “I love you too,” I choke out.
He puts his arm around my shoulders and guides me from the room, down the hall, and upstairs. We’re going to his room, and I don’t care if Marge notices I’m not in my room. Every rule I’ve lived by, every constraint is suddenly gone, but I can’t enjoy it because it’s gone for the most horrific reason.
~ ~ ~
One week later…
Oscar
I let her go. It just about killed me, but I did it. She’s on her way to Beaumont for whatever awaits her there.
The day after the hurricane, we had the welcome news that her parents are alive, which means the monarchy still stands. It also means I can’t join her on Beaumont until she says it’s the right time. I’m happy for her to have her family. I just wish I could be part of things. We saw them on the news. Her parents went out on the lookout point at the top of a stone tower of the palace and waved at the plane flying overhead gathering aerial footage. Her father looks ancient with thinning white curly hair. Her mother looks much younger with straight shoulder-length dark brown hair. The palace sustained only minor damage. It looks like a fortress of stone.
The news showed most of the damage to the northwestern end of the main island, with destroyed resorts, restaurants, and homes. The center of the island fared a little better with more roof damage than anything else, along with flooding. Much of the vegetation is gone from those areas. Uprooted trees and downed telephone poles block the roads.
Yesterday we got the news that the airport runway was clear. That meant relief efforts could get in, and it also meant Polly could go home. She left this morning on our private jet with Marge and Vaughn. I worked by her side this week coordinating fundraising efforts for Beaumont, drawing on every connection her kingdom and mine have. My brother Phillip helped with a UN connection to get humanitarian aid; we got an international relief organization to step up, as well as the Red Cross. Our kingdom’s charitable organization and Polly’s contributed too.
Cell phone service has been restored on Beaumont, along with sixty percent of their power. That’s all I know. I won’t relax until I hear she’s made it safely back to the palace. There are still many people without power or water and, one week post hurricane, the grocery stores are running low on food. There’s a fine line between civilization and savagery when people are desperate. And Polly represents an untouchable aristocratic ideal they may not appreciate under the circumstances. She assured me her people love her. I don’t doubt that, but I don’t have such a rosy view of human nature. Take away food, water, and shelter, and it’s a free-for-all. She has a guard, but one man against a mob is useless. If I had my way, an army would carry her back to the palace.
As much as I need her in my life, they need her more. I just hope they appreciate her vibrant spirit and let her be the leader she was meant to be on her own. I can’t be held accountable for my actions if I hear she’s pressured to marry that sleazy man. All I know is that will happen over my dead body.
~ ~ ~
Polly
I was as prepared as I could be to see the devastation on Beaumont after poring over pictures on the internet and watching the news, but driving along the southeastern road to the palace, looking at the stark landscape—damaged beachside hotels, the complete loss of vegetation and trees, destroyed restaurants and homes—it physically pains me. I cross my arms, hugging myself. I know we’re fortunate. It could’ve been worse. My parents are alive. Most of our resorts on the southeastern side are salvageable with some renovation, and there are sections of the island that are untouched—the sewage treatment plant, the schools, the hospital—but there’s just so much that’s ruined. It doesn’t look like the Beaumont I know and love.
The car pulls up to the palace entrance, and my parents are waiting for me in the courtyard.
“Polly!” my mother exclaims and rushes toward me, arms open.
My throat clogs with emotion, and I run into her arms. She squeezes me tight. “Maman!” I cry. “I’m so glad you and Papa are okay.”
She pulls back, stroking my hair and studying me. “The palace has withstood worse. It’s been reinforced many times. You look different. What is it?”
I’m in love. I’m no longer a virgin. I dream of a different future. I don’t say any of that because I know I have to pick my moment. “I had a great visit with Anna on Villroy. The Rourkes are a wonderful family and a valuable alliance for us.”
“Yes,” she says slowly, her head tilting to the side as she searches my features, her brow crinkled. “We appreciated their contribution.” She turns and smiles at my father. “Come. Your father has been anxious for your return.”
I cross to him, bow my head and curtsy. “It’s good to see you, Papa.”
He’s not a hugger. I wait as he lifts a shaky arm to place a hand on my head. “I’m glad you’re home. We have much to discuss.” There’s a tremor in his voice now too. His Parkinson’s disease is definitely worse.
“Let her settle in first,” my mother says.
She goes to greet Marge and Vaughn. She and Marge have a quiet conversation, my mother glancing at me with an alarmed look. I tense. I told Marge that I would broach the topic of Oscar at the first opportunity, but it seems she’s shared something already. My mother nods at Marge and gestures for her and Vaughn to go inside.
My mother links her arm in mine. “It was a long journey, was it not? You should rest.”
“Yes, but I’m fine. I want to do all I can to help.”
“We’ve been in touch with Peter,” my mother says.
“Mmm, good man,” my father says.
I grind my teeth. I’m not even inside the palace door and they’re shoving my intended in my face. “Oh, really?”
“Yes,” my mother says. “He’s eager to see you. He must’ve missed you, Polly.”
The words burst out of me. “Or he just wants to profit from the only resorts left on the island—ours.”
> “He has legal claim to one of our resorts,” my father says. “If he only cared for profit, he’d simply take it over. Why so suspicious? I thought you favored the match.”
“Things have changed,” I say.
My father looks perplexed; my mother concerned.
“I’ll explain later,” I say, striding ahead. “There’s much work to be done.”
My mother catches up to me. “Peter will make that work easier. Don’t put him off, Polly. He wants to help, and he is what Beaumont needs.”
I halt, my eyes narrowing. “I am what Beaumont needs. I have the energy, drive, and strategic mind to get this kingdom thriving. This is my birthright. I will not hand it over to a male business tycoon or a male cousin just because that is the way it has always been done.”
My mother’s mouth forms an O of surprise. “Where is this coming from? You cannot lead alone. Such venom. You need to learn to be less headstrong. Our traditions are what make our kingdom strong.”
I clamp my mouth shut. My frustration slipped through. I don’t have time for arguments or rebuilding the social order of the monarchy. I need to focus on recovery for Beaumont. “Excuse me, I believe I am tired. I will be in my room for a spell.”
“Of course,” she replies graciously. “Travel can make anyone snappish. Welcome home.”
I give her a tight smile and head for my room. I have cell service, which means I can make phone calls. There’s no internet, but the palace has power. I need to assess the conditions on the island and then get out there to see for myself. Then I need to make sure the supplies expected at the airport make it out to the areas that need it most. There’s much to do, and time is of the essence. There have been thirty-two storm-related deaths, and I don’t want the death toll to get any higher.
I pull out my phone and there’s a text from Oscar: Let me know if you got in okay.
My love. My heart squeezes, my eyes hot as I text back. I’m here, and I love you.
A response pings back a moment later. I love you too. Say the word and I’m there.
I will.
I take a deep breath. It’s not the right time for Oscar to show up here, but I hope it will be soon.
Chapter Fourteen
Polly
After what feels like a zillion phone calls, I change into my workout clothes (my only casual clothes)—a pink T-shirt, black yoga pants, and sneakers—and head up to Marge’s room on the third floor. I’ve gotten the power company to join social media and have set up my own account, getting as many locals to follow me as I could get a hold of. Before the storm, royal protocol forbid me from being on social media, but it’s the easiest way to communicate with everyone quickly, so screw it! Royal protocol will not get Beaumont back on its feet. My goal is to get the islanders to post pictures of problem areas with geolocation tags so we can pinpoint exactly where there’s downed power lines and blocked roads. Power restoration and access to roads is a top priority. We need power, especially for the water-distribution system, which is repaired after only minor damage. While that’s in motion, I need to take care of the displaced people. Enter Marge, a natural caregiver. Firm and no-nonsense, yes, but underneath that she has a big heart.
Marge’s door is open, and she’s sitting by the window at a small round table, staring at the sea. Her brown hair, streaked liberally with gray, is in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, her shoulders drooped. It’s tough to return home to such devastation.
“Marge,” I say softly, not wanting to startle her.
She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “Are you working out now after our long journey?”
“These are the only clothes appropriate for a disaster area,” I say as I head toward her. “I can’t be in veils and dresses at a time like this.”
Her lips purse. “I’ve told your mother Prince Oscar is in love with you. I did not reveal your actions toward him.”
I let out a breath and take a seat at the table next to her. She’s doing her job as chaperone, as expected. Marge has been with me since I was nine years old and shipped off to boarding school. In many ways, she’s been a mother to me.
I meet her eyes. “I’m not angry. I know you were doing your job as my chaperone. That job will end soon when I marry.”
“Of course,” she says briskly. “I’ve always known my job would end at your wedding.”
I take her hand and place it on my cheek. “Marge, you’ve been my constant companion, and I want you to know how much I appreciate you.”
Her eyes tear and she leans forward, kissing my forehead. “You’ve turned out splendidly, Polly. I never thought you were too much trouble.”
I pull back with a laugh.
She laughs too. “Okay, you were too much trouble, but all those traits that are difficult to manage in a child will be an asset to you as a leader. I’m glad you’re full of energy and stubborn and strong-willed. A queen should be. Beaumont will need you now more than ever.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. We’re in a state of emergency and, as far as I’m concerned, royal protocol no longer applies. I need your help, Marge, but not as a chaperone. I need you by my side to help assess the damage and coordinate relief efforts. I especially want you to look out for the children. You have enough love for an army of children.”
Her brows shoot up. “An army of children? God forbid!”
“Will you help?”
She nods, her eyes shiny, her lips pressed tightly together. “It would be an honor.”
“I knew I could count on you. Thank you!” I stand. “First order of business. We’re going to round up the people from the north side of the island and make sure they have shelter.”
“Where will you put them?”
“That depends on the number. I’ll ask the islanders to take in people where they can. I know the elementary school can shelter some people in their gym, and I’ll take in some here at the palace—”
“The palace!” she exclaims and then lowers her voice. “You can’t take in any riffraff off the street. They must be vetted. You must think of security.”
I square my shoulders. “This palace belongs to the people as much as it does to me. We have numerous guest rooms, a conservatory, and a ballroom. I’ll add cots.”
“Your parents will never allow it,” she whispers.
“Then they can turn away their loyal subjects at the door,” I proclaim. “Well, are you with me?”
She stares at me, eyes wide. And then she stands and takes my hands in hers, her brown eyes soft. “You have never seemed more like a queen than you do in this moment. I’m so proud of you.” Her voice chokes. “Lead the way, and I will do my best to support you in all things.”
I smile, my eyes stinging with unshed tears, and allow myself a moment to enjoy the sweet satisfaction of making her proud. My own mother has never said the same. “Thank you, Marge. That means a lot. Now let’s go.” I turn and stride toward the door. “I want Vaughn to help with the heavy lifting.”
She catches up to me. “Vaughn has brothers and cousins that could be of help. They’re all powerhouses like him.”
“Excellent,” I say, heading for the guards’ quarters. I know very little of Vaughn, only that he’s a native islander. He chose to keep a distance from me for my own protection. That time is over. I need every able-bodied man and woman in the kingdom to restore order.
~ ~ ~
By nightfall, I’ve accomplished a lot, but not nearly enough. It strikes me how ill-prepared Beaumont was for a natural disaster, and it will be one of the things I address once things are stabilized. Only the hospital has a backup generator, which is a blessing, I know, but there should’ve been more. And we’re an island with sun most of the year. We should’ve invested in solar electricity, solar hot water, maybe wind too. That kind of renewable distributed system of power could’ve been a real help. We should have had multiple water reservoirs, not just one centrally located. A satellite phone at the palace could’ve reached out to the
world on day one. There was no emergency stock of bottled water, nonperishable food, blankets, diapers, and the like. And there’s no cots! How can there be no cots?
I’ve placed as many people in homes as I could. We’ve gathered nap mats from the nursery school for young children staying at the elementary school gym, and borrowed several unused mattresses and blankets from the hospital. I can’t raid too much from the hospital in case they need it for patients.
Vaughn’s people have been a great help, and several of them have pickup trucks to help move the bedding supplies to the elementary school gym. Tomorrow, Vaughn, his brothers, cousins, and several of the palace guards will go out at first light to assist with removal of debris from the roads, being careful to avoid areas with downed power lines.
I’ve commandeered numerous Bentleys and Mercedes from the royal fleet of cars to transport people to the palace, where I’m currently heading in a caravan of cars. And how did I get access to the royal fleet? Timing. I was notified that a large shipment of food and bottled water had arrived at the airport this afternoon, and I asked my parents to go there and accept it, remaining there to help with distribution. I immediately communicated the need for school busses at the airport to help with distribution, which kept my parents busy for the afternoon while I raided the royal garage for my own use. We’ve kept in touch by phone.
My parents are home now, unaware of the fifty people that will soon seek shelter at the palace. I’m presuming the role of leader and will apologize later for my presumptions. Though I will never truly be sorry for doing what is right.
As soon as we pull up to the large courtyard, Marge and I direct people inside the palace while the drivers return the cars to the large covered parking area around back. These fifty people, ranging from the elderly to toddler, are the employees (and their families) of Peter’s destroyed resorts on the north side. They have no jobs and no homes.
“Welcome!” I say once we’re all gathered in the two-story entrance hall. “Please give us a little time to set up sleeping places for you. In the meantime, I’ll see that food and drink are brought to you in the parlor.”
Royal Player (The Rourkes, Book 5) Page 15