Lady in Training (I'm No Princess Book 2)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  I’m No Princess: Part Two

  Lady in Training

  ALSO BY ELIZABETH STEVENS

  unvamped

  Netherfield Prep

  the Trouble with Hate is…

  Accidentally Perfect

  Keeping Up Appearances

  Love, Lust & Friendship

  No More Maybes Books

  No More Maybes

  Gray’s Blade

  I’m No Princess: Part Two

  Lady in Training

  Elizabeth Stevens

  Sleeping Dragon Books

  Lady in Training

  by Elizabeth Stevens

  Digital ISBN: 9780-648438113

  Cover art by: Izzie Duffield

  Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Stevens

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  Worldwide English Language Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Wham! earned every exclamation point in here.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter One

  “Oh good morning, your ladyship,” came the perky voice and I could hear just how rueful the smile in it was.

  I grinned into my pillows. “Shut up,” I mumbled.

  “But… My lady?”

  “Your lady, yourself.”

  I felt the bed shift. “How did you sleep?”

  “Do those things always go so late?”

  I rolled up to sitting in the most inelegant way possible and looked at my sister, perched on the end of my bed. She was dressed to perfection as always and I felt like I’d only been asleep for like ten minutes. Although I’d been good and not let myself drink too much so as to ensure the least amount of embarrassment. Naturally, plenty of embarrassment had occurred anyway. Clearly I was already acing this being a Lady business.

  “It’s not uncommon.”

  “Where are Gerta and Shelley?” I yawned as I stretched.

  “They’ll be in soon. Dad said I could wake you up.”

  I snorted. “Like that is such a prize.”

  “It’s a big day, Tati.”

  I sighed as I slumped and played with my blankets. “It’s no bigger than yesterday.” Lia looked me over questioningly and I humphed, “Fine. It’s bigger because there’s public involved, isn’t it?”

  She folded her hands neatly in her lap and nodded. “People you don’t know in a closed off room with only official publicists and photographers is one thing. Being part of a press conference is another.”

  “But this is it, yeah? After this I can melt back into the shadows?” I asked her.

  The look she gave me was older-and-wiser-sympathy combined with older-sister-thinks-it-sucks-to-be-you. “Yes. If by melting back into the shadows you mean afternoon tea with the Marquise de Ronique, the opening night of the Royal Gallyrian Ballet’s Nutcracker, the Christmas Eve ball, the Christmas State Dinner, and the New Year’s Eve ball, to start.”

  I frowned heavily at her. “That’s a bloody lot of balls.”

  “Are we talking about the royal balls of a certain prince? Or the ones with a nice dress and dancing?” Lia smirked at me.

  I tried not to smile at her. “The dancing kind. I should probably stop talking about the royal kind. That just seems a lot in the space of a month.”

  “There is always a Christmas and New Years ball. Your presentation ball was an added extra.”

  “What other balls are there always, then?”

  “Valentine’s Day, of course–”

  “Of course,” I agreed sarcastically and Lia glared at me.

  “To which the whole of Gallyr can buy tickets.”

  “Oh, bless. So Dmitri needs to buy a ticket to announce his engagement to the woman he’s not even dating?”

  Lia snorted, then looked around like someone in my room might have caught her out at being less than ladylike as she rubbed her nose like it hadn’t been her. “No. He doesn’t have to buy a ticket.”

  “That seems terribly unfair.”

  “He’s going to be the king. There are different rules.”

  “Rude.”

  “My lady!” Gerta chastised and I looked over guiltily to see her and Shelly walking in.

  “Yes?” I asked innocently.

  “You should be showered by now, my lady,” Shelly said.

  “At this rate, we’ll only manage two coffees before the press conference,” Gerta added.

  I grinned at Lia as I dragged myself out of the bed. “Coffee calls.”

  “I think you’ll find most people believe duty calls,” Lia said, standing up smoothly and effortlessly.

  “Coffee is duty, Lia,” I told her.

  “My lady. Shower,” Shelly pressed and I nodded.

  “Sure. Sure.”

  Lia hugged me before leaving, saying, “Get dressed, get caffeinated, then have Nikolai take you to Dad’s study.”

  I frowned as I slipped off my track suit pants. “Dad’s study? Yeah, okay.”

  “Just be quick, Tati.”

  “Could have woken me up sooner!” I called as she left, throwing me a wry smile.

  I showered in what was, for me, record time and then Gerta and Shelly worked their magic on me in the space of a little over a half an hour. My hair hung in soft waves and my makeup had that perfectly non-existent look to it. The skirt suit was something I promised myself I’d burn as soon as I got out of it, but I’d wear whatever I was supposed to.

  It wasn’t until I was heading for Dad’s study that the nervous fluttering really started.

  The people I’d met at the ball the night before had had to be polite to my face, but no doubt went on to say any number of seriously unflattering things about me behind my back. The reporters I was about to be thrown in front of also had to be polite to my face, but the things they’d go on to write and say about me would be made public for all the world to see and hear. And we all knew how well I did in new situations.

  I knocked on Dad’s door, looking to Nikolai for a last minute sense of comfort he was definitely not forthcoming with. When I opened the door, I saw Dad wasn’t alone. He was with a guy I recognised as someone I saw around a reasonable amount, but couldn’t remember if we’d actually met.

  “Tati, you remember Sergei,” Dad said.

  I looked at Sergei. “Do I?” Then it came to me. “You met us at the plane the day I flew in.”

  Sergei inclined his head. “I did, my lady.”

  “For lack of a better word, Sergei is my man,” Dad explained and I guessed this was the Mr Mironov Gerta and Shelly had mentioned the other night.

  “And what exactly does that job description look like?” I asked.

  “He l
ooks after my schedule, takes calls when necessary, arranges meetings–”

  “He’s your secretary?” I clarified, knowing that quite a few members of the court had a secretary, even if they were shared with others.

  “He also handles my security as well as oversees yours.” Dad’s face told me I was pushing those many boundaries because now was sitting and listening and being quiet time. Although, unlike Nikolai, I knew Dad wouldn’t hesitate to pull me up on it.

  So I tried not to give him a reason to pull me up on it. I nodded. “Okay. Good to meet you officially then, Sergei.”

  “Likewise, my lady.”

  “I’ve asked Sergei in to brief you on the press conference, ready you for questions they will have and how to answer them.”

  That definitely sounded like something I needed. “Cool. So he runs PR?”

  “For you, yes.”

  I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Dad and Sergei shared a look, but it was Sergei who answered, “Your sister is…less of a wildcard, my lady. And your father has many years of practise.” I was getting sick of the way people would pause to choose the right word. Why couldn’t we all just blurt things out and I’d look less the fool?

  “Rex, Hilde and the kids have their own staff who handle their PR. Sergei strictly handles ours, but usually there isn’t a lot of call for it.” Dad’s attempt at apologetic was lost on me.

  “Ah. But with me, there’s a lot of call for it.” It didn’t need to be a question.

  Dad tried to go for a nod, but looked like he changed his mind halfway through. “You’ll get better as time goes on, Tati. I’m sure of it.”

  “Well, that makes one of us.” I looked to Sergei resignedly. “So what can I look forward to?”

  Sergei looked like he was pleased to finally be getting to work. “There is likely to be a lot of questions about your life before Gallyr. The press is divided into four camps. There are those stoic monarchists who want to expose you as the uncouth Australian masquerading as a noble who has no place in Gallyr. They are not on your side. There are those who are happy there is someone making headlines for them and, while they may want to point out your every flaw, they will look on you favourably and treat you well for the boost you give their sales and ranking. These are the most likely to be on your side and the most forgiving of…mistakes. There are those who appreciate the…fresh air you bring to the court as what they will term a ‘modern noble’ while using it as a chance to criticise said court. Again these are most likely to support you, but only as a tool against the monarchy. Finally there are the anti-monarchists who will use you as an example of all the old, outdated traditions the monarchy are holding to but should get rid of. There is no certainty they will be on your side or even be supportive. What you say will determine whether they are behind you or not.”

  Sergei seemed to be waiting for me to say something, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to be. “Um… Wow. Okay….”

  “There is unfortunately a lot more politics involved in this than I’d hoped when we first made these plans, kiddo,” Dad said.

  I nodded. “The unrest. Makes sense.” Dad looked at me in surprise for a moment and I rolled my eyes at him. “I’ve been trying to catch up and keep up. It hasn’t been easy, though.”

  Dad leant towards me, a glimmer of mischievous teasing in his eyes. “Tati… Have you actually been studying?”

  I snorted. “Sure. For lack of a better word,” I said, throwing his words from earlier back at him. Looking at Sergei, I said, “What else do I need to know?”

  “There will be an attempt to discuss your romantic life,” Sergei answered. “The rumours that you and your sister were brought home to tempt royalty have picked up with a vengeance since word of your return spread. Every decent reporter will know that there is no way you’re here to marry Prince Dmitri. However, the gossip magazine journalists will try to get you to admit it’s possible.”

  “But it’s very not possible!” I squeaked, ignoring any reminder my brain was trying to give me of dancing with him or his abs or that occasional smile that almost crossed his face.

  Sergei inclined his head as though any idiot knew that. “Nevertheless. They will want to attach you to one of them–”

  “Let’s be honest, Sergei. They will try to associate her to all three of them if they can,” Dad interjected.

  And okay, I’ll admit I had the very short, random fantasy of all three of them at once. But I quashed it quickly because there was a time and a place for torrid fantasies and minutes away from a press conference was not one of them.

  I cleared my throat and my mind. “Right. So I need to not put my foot in it about my previous life or my incredible lack of romantic life. How hard could it be?” I muttered.

  We spent another few minutes going over questions that might come up and the very specific things I was to not say. Then Dad steered me to the Receiving Room and I met Alaina Lloyd who was going to oversee the whole thing.

  “Okay. Everyone should be set up. I’m going to take you in, introduce you and I’ll be there to choose questions if you need,” Alaina said.

  I blinked. “Sorry. If I need? Am I meant to pick my own questions?”

  Alaina shrugged. “Usually not. But…” She looked to Dad and Sergei before continuing, “We’re trying something different today.”

  That didn’t sound ominous at all. “How do I pick my own questions?”

  Alaina looked at me like I was an idiot. “The journalists will put up their hands and you select someone.”

  Because that wasn’t inherently terrifying. “Okay. I guess I can manage that.”

  “Good. I’ll also be there to diffuse anything if necessary.” Alaina looked to someone and nodded, and I didn’t get to ask why she might need to diffuse anything because she said, “We’re up.”

  Fear gripped me, but honestly how much harder would this be than walking down those stairs in a ball gown and heels?

  The answer was very.

  Alaina led me to a podium in front of rows of people in seats. There had been a quiet murmuring around the room until I walked in, then it stopped as I had to force myself to keep walking. Thankfully there was nothing to trip on, otherwise I knew I’d have face-planted in front of all those well placed cameras.

  “Thank you for being here today,” Alaina started. “Lady Tatiana is here to answer any questions you might have and she will be choosing whose questions she answers. Lady Tatiana?” She stepped aside and indicated I stand behind the podium.

  I swallowed hard and placed myself behind it. Instantly almost every person in the room raised a hand. I cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and pointed at one. I was impressed only one person spoke, because even I wasn't entirely sure who I’d pointed at.

  “Lady Tatiana, what can you tell us about your relationship with Prince Dominic?” she asked.

  Oh boy. That was not the first question I was expecting. I looked to Dad, but there was no sign on his face as to what I was supposed to say. So I had to wing it. “We’re…” I’d known him like two weeks, what was the best word for it? “Friends.”

  “And the reports that you are close?” another asked without any prompting; obviously they had more idea of how this worked than I did.

  “Uh, well… With our fathers such good friends, it’s natural that we would be close. The prince and I get along well and I appreciate the time he’s taken from his service to welcome me home.”

  “So you’ve been spending time together?”

  Well, duh. “Prince Dominic and I have spent the same amount of time together as I’ve spent with Prince Konstantin or Prince Dmitri.”

  “You’re getting to know all of them well, then?”

  “As well as anyone can know anyone in the space of three weeks, yes.”

  “Lady Tatiana, you’re aware that Prince Dmitri is to announce his engagement on Valentine’s Day?”

 
; I nodded slowly. “I am aware this is the Gallyrian tradition, yes.”

  “Do you have reason to believe he won’t?”

  Oh shit. I cleared my throat to give me time to think about the best way to answer. “No. Not at all. As I’m sure you’re aware, Prince Dmitri is a very private person. I know nothing about it except it is expected he will make the announcement.”

  Hands rose and I pointed to another reporter who rattled something in swift Gallyrian at me. I gave them a rueful smile, reminding myself to behave. I took a deep breath and though, WWKD? What would Kostin do?

  “The cynic in me wants to say well-played, sir.” There was a polite giggle in the room. “Instead I’ll admit my Gallyrian is not as fluent as it should be, and promise that I’m working on it.”

  The reporter simultaneously looked like he thought he had me at an extreme disadvantage but also that he had a shred of respect for me. “Some would say that you’re not worthy of holding a title of nobility in the country, my lady,” he asked.

  I gave another slow nod as I looked around the room. “Some would. Is there a question you’d like me to answer in that observation?”

  Another rueful smile. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”

  I took another deep breath. It didn’t take an idiot to know this was one of those questions that could make or break me. My eyes slid to Dad, Sergei, Alaina, Lia. None of them were helpful, but there was support on my family’s faces.

  “I can’t help who my father is any more than anyone else can,” I started slowly, hoping I wasn’t nailing the coffin shut. “All I can hope for is that I will be able to do my country and my family proud. I learnt as much as I could as I grew up, but obviously nothing compares to having lived it. So now my job – my intention – is to learn everything about my country by living it.”

  More hands. I pointed to another person.

  “There are reports you lived life to the full in Australia. Do you intend to continue here?”