by Emily Forbes
‘We’re almost done,’ Doug said, making an effort to appease him. He knew full well Cam’s opinion about meetings. ‘The Games start next week.’
The countdown was on until the Legion’s Games began, when hundreds of injured veterans from twenty countries around the world would descend on Sydney to compete in a dozen different events across ten days. The Games were the brainchild of Prince Alfred, an army captain himself, and the Games Committee was responsible for the event but, as the host nation, the Australian defence force was heavily involved. It was a massive exercise and the logistics of the Games fell to the Australians, which was how Cam found himself involved.
‘Not much longer and your suffering will all be over,’ Doug added with a smile.
Cam doubted that. Sure, he’d have fewer meetings to attend but his current life was still so far removed from what he’d thought it was going to be; he wasn’t sure that his suffering was ever going to be over.
He’d hoped the Games would be a good distraction, a way to mark the passing of time. He’d expected to be consulted over the details of the medical facilities, but somehow, he’d found himself dragged along to every damn meeting in existence. He tried to be positive. He’d put his hand up for this project after all, but he’d put his hand up for any work that had been offered to him over the past year. Exhaustion was the only way he could get even a half-decent night’s sleep. A few hours when he could shut out the horrors of everything he’d experienced during his tour of duty in the Middle East.
‘What are your plans for tonight?’ Doug asked as they left the boardroom together, Cam’s muscles finally relaxing enough to enable him to walk without a limp. Well, without much of a limp.
‘I’m going to head to the pool.’
‘You’re not seeing that girl from the other night? What was her name?’
‘Caroline,’ Cam said, before adding, ‘no.’
He’d been on a few dates recently, if you could call them that. Dates that had been set up through his friends in the armed forces. Dates with girls who were happy to have a night out. But not one of them had progressed further than a single night. Not one had ended in anything more than a kiss. Cam was scarred, physically and emotionally, and he wasn’t ready to expose himself to anyone new. He wasn’t ready for those conversations. He wasn’t interested in having a relationship.
He wasn’t short of female attention; he knew women considered him good-looking, and while the copper crash had shattered his femur and fractured his pelvis, his face had remained relatively unscathed. He had a small scar running through his bottom lip but otherwise his facial features were unmarked.
He wasn’t lacking female attention, but his heart remained hardened. He wasn’t interested in getting to know any of them in detail and he definitely did not want them getting to know him. He didn’t want to answer questions about himself. He didn’t want to open up, to share his thoughts and feelings. He wanted to lock the pain away.
He disagreed with the psychologists. Talking about what had happened only made the pain worse. It only kept the memory alive. Made it stronger. No one, least of all Cam, needed to be reminded of what had happened.
‘Well, before you go, can I have a word with you about tomorrow’s schedule?’ Doug asked.
‘Don’t tell me there are more meetings—I’m consulting tomorrow and I know my list is pretty full.’
‘I know you’re out at the rehab centre tomorrow; that’s why I need to speak to you. I have a favour to ask. The Prince’s social media manager has arrived in Sydney ahead of the Prince and has asked for a tour of the facilities.’
‘Which facilities?’
‘All of them. But I thought we could start with the old barracks first.’
One of the old inner-city army bases had been repurposed as a rehabilitation facility when the site had needed updating. The active units had been reassigned to a new purpose-built base in the outer suburbs of Sydney and the old base had been upgraded and was now home to the medical facilities, including doctors, physiotherapists, psychologists, exercise physiologists, a purpose-built gym and pool for the injured and returned soldiers, along with outdoor sporting facilities. The repurposed base was going to serve as the venue for the majority of the events in the Legion’s Games.
‘You’re out there tomorrow,’ Doug continued. ‘Can they go out there with you?’
‘You want me to babysit the Prince’s—what did you call them—social media manager?’
Doug nodded and sweetened the deal. ‘If you can do me this small favour, I promise I won’t drag you into any meetings for the rest of the week.’
Cam sighed and ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. A day out of the boardroom was preferable to another day of meetings. Even playing tour guide to a stranger would have to be better than that. ‘All right,’ he agreed.
‘Okay, I’ll send you the details,’ Doug said as he took out his phone and tapped away. ‘Can you collect her from her hotel at o-nine hundred hours?’
‘Her?’ he asked as his phone pinged with the incoming email. Prince Alfred had a military background and Cam had, incorrectly it seemed, assumed his social media manager would be a man.
Cam had met the Prince once while he’d been deployed in the Middle East. Once, in the days before the incident. In the days before his life went down the toilet.
‘Yes—’ Doug grinned ‘—see if you can dredge up some of your old charm. Be nice.’
Cam looked at the email on his screen and noted her name, along with the hotel address, with a raised eyebrow. Apparently, Viktoria von Grasburg was staying in one of Sydney’s five-star hotels on the Harbour. He wondered who was paying for that.
‘Sure,’ he said as he sighed and stuck his phone back in his pocket, before massaging his hip subconsciously.
Viktoria woke up well before sunrise as her body clock still hadn’t adjusted to the Australian time zone. She rolled over and picked up her phone, knowing she wouldn’t get back to sleep. She had plenty of time to kill so she opened her emails and was relieved to find nothing important. Out of habit, she googled her name and then wished she hadn’t.
Another name popped up in the feed. Luca Romano. The successful, handsome captain of Italy’s national polo team and her ex-fiancé. She knew his name would always be linked to hers—as a princess, she was a popular topic for the European media and her tumultuous love life was considered headline news. And nothing was more interesting in the world of ‘entertainment’ news than a royal scandal.
She’d thought Luca was her perfect man—strong and handsome with enough confidence to cope with the expectations of the public and the palace. But he’d turned out to be just another person who was more interested in fame and fortune—his fame and her fortune—than in settling down into a monogamous relationship. And loyalty and trust were two things Viktoria was not prepared to compromise on.
Luca had cheated on her and made sure she found out. As a defence he said he’d wanted to save her the embarrassment of being dumped by making it impossible for her to forgive him. He’d wanted her to break off their engagement but even though she had been able to end their relationship it had still hurt her. More than she would ever let on. She’d been taught to hold her head high in public but that hadn’t lessened the pain she’d felt in private.
Three months later Luca was free now to do as he pleased and, by the look of the woman on his arm, he was enjoying his freedom. She knew she was better off without him in her life; she just wished she had the same freedom. She wished she could do as she pleased.
She closed the browser and put her phone down, sighing as she swung her legs out of bed. In a way Luca was responsible for her ending up here, in Sydney.
She was in Australia to have a break from her royal duties, a break from the tabloids constantly following her disastrous love life, and she was determined to enjoy her anonymity and associated f
reedom.
Her freedom would end soon enough, once she returned to Berggrun. She accepted that; it was the promise she had made to her parents. Berggrun princes and princesses were expected to marry by the age of thirty—to marry and start producing heirs to the throne. It was a tradition and the only way of ensuring the tiny principality didn’t disappear. The timeline had been pushed out by her father but, even so, the deadline was looming for Viktoria. She would turn thirty next year and, while she might not be married, she would be expected to be engaged. She hadn’t managed to hold on to her fiancé and she knew her parents had a shortlist of eligible potential husbands. By the time she returned home she expected her fate would have been decided. The next two weeks were her last chance of freedom.
She pressed the button on the remote to open the curtains. She stood up and gazed out of the window, refusing to let her future issues ruin what looked to be another glorious day. The sun had risen in the east and the endless sky was duck-egg-blue, broken only by a few wisps of white cloud. The water of Sydney Harbour sparkled in the early morning light and the Harbour Bridge looked almost close enough to touch, looming large outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of her penthouse suite.
Well, she reminded herself as she watched the boats scurrying across the water, today was the first day of the rest of her life. For the next couple of weeks, she was free from the constraints of being a royal and she was going to make the most of it. She was in Australia to do something worthwhile, something meaningful, and she was damn certain she would give it her best shot. She didn’t have time to dwell on ex-fiancés, future husbands or even her life as a royal from the House of von Grasburg. This was her opportunity to be something other than a princess.
She headed for the shower as she thought about the conversation she’d had eight weeks ago with her cousin Freddie, when she’d flown to London to join in his thirtieth birthday celebrations. The two of them, and their siblings, had a close relationship but at that moment in time Viktoria had felt the gap between their lives very strongly. She’d been very aware of the immense divide between their lives and their futures. Freddie and his siblings had grown up in England—his mother was her father’s sister—and Viktoria had always envied their more relaxed royal protocols. While they were expected to fill their days with meaningful pursuits—Freddie had served in the British army and had founded a charity he was passionate about—they weren’t governed by the same strict traditions. Unlike her, Freddie was not expected to marry by the age of thirty.
‘So,’ he had said to her two months ago, ‘my parents were telling me that yours are busy narrowing down the list of potential husbands for you.’
‘Do not remind me,’ Viktoria had groaned. ‘I cannot believe it has come down to this. I cannot believe I thought Luca and I were going to live happily ever after. I cannot believe I am in this situation.’
‘Do you have any idea who the options are?’
‘I know my parents have mentioned a count from eastern Europe and also Tomas, the Duke of San Fernando.’
‘Do you have a preference?’
‘Tomas, I guess. At least I know him.’ Part of her still imagined she’d find her true love before she ran out of time, but she knew she wasn’t being realistic.
‘Let’s hope, for your sake, your parents make better decisions than you did. What are your plans for your last few months of freedom?’
‘I wish I knew. I imagine it will be the usual list of functions. I don’t mind the charity work but I am not looking forward to a life of service. I am tired of handing out awards and trophies and making small talk with a smile. All I seem to do is open museums and visit schools and hospitals. I want to feel like I am making a difference, not just decorating an event. I would like a break from being a royal for a while, but I cannot see that happening.’
That was the problem. She was jealous of other people, who could reinvent themselves or do as they pleased. People who could change their mind without having to ask for permission. She’d never been able to make independent decisions about anything ever. And after ten years as an adult that was beginning to get mighty frustrating.
‘But, to be honest, I would really rather stay out of the spotlight. It would be nice to think I could experience life as an ordinary person before I am married off. You had your time in the army, when people treated you like a soldier, not a prince. You told me how much that meant to you. I want that. Maybe I should come to Sydney with you.’
Freddie, or Prince Alfred as he was known to most of the world, had been a captain in the armed forces and was the founder and patron of the Legion’s Games, which was about to be staged for the third time in Sydney. The event was designed to inspire recovery and aid rehabilitation for service men and women in the armed forces through the healing power of sport. It was Freddie’s brainchild and something he was passionate about. Viktoria envied him that passion and was in awe of the fact that he had been able to create something that would have a lasting legacy. She knew her work as a royal was important for the small principality of Berggrun, but she couldn’t honestly say she was changing the world. She knew she was unlikely to ever make a significant difference but she’d like the opportunity to find out what she was capable of, rather than being instructed in how to live her life, how to behave, and directed to what tasks she could undertake, which duties were considered suitable for a princess.
She was passionate about horses but that was a personal passion and she had no idea how to make that something she could share with the world. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she was given free rein, but she wished she’d have an opportunity to find out.
‘Maybe you should,’ he replied.
She had made an off-the-cuff comment but Freddie had taken her seriously.
‘Really?’
‘You could come to Australia as part of my team.’
‘And do what?’ she asked, tempted by the idea of travelling to Australia. Being on the other side of the planet sounded pretty good to her right now.
‘I’m not sure exactly, but surely we could find something that could use that marketing and public relations degree you got at university. Maybe you could run the social media accounts for the Games and liaise with the press? Sort of like a marketing exercise. You could sell the Games to the general public. We could use this as an opportunity to promote the benefits that sport can make to physical and mental health. How does that sound?’
‘I want to be anonymous for a while; I do not want to be part of the royal entourage.’
‘You could simply be an employee. No one needs to know you’re my cousin. Trust me, most Australians don’t care about royalty. I swear most of them only make a fuss because they think it’s expected. Don’t forget I spent a year there at boarding school when I was fifteen. They only cared about my sporting skills, whether I was any good at cricket and rugby, not about whether I lived in a palace. They couldn’t have cared less.’
‘They know you.’
‘That’s because they’re still part of the Commonwealth so they have a direct connection to me through the Crown, but I doubt many of them would have heard of the Principality of Berggrun. If they ever knew my mother was a Berggruner I’m sure they’ve forgotten that by now and I bet most Australians would never have heard of you.’
Viktoria laughed for the first time that day. ‘You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Freddie.’
‘You can’t have it both ways, Viktoria,’ her cousin teased her. ‘You might want to be anonymous, but you know your parents have to give their approval if you want to run away. You need a valid reason to skip off to the other side of the world. This way, I can speak to Uncle Georg and make it sound official. Believe me, you won’t regret it. Think about it and let me know. I guarantee you’ll love it.’
Viktoria hadn’t had to think about it for long. It wasn’t as if she had anything better to do. Her parents and brothe
rs could manage any royal engagements for two weeks. Handing out trophies was hardly challenging.
She was on the other side of the world and, she thought as she turned off the shower, she was about to start her first day ‘on the job’. One that had nothing to do with her being a royal, a princess. Nothing to do with cutting ribbons, shaking hands or making speeches. She was working for her cousin, the Prince, but no one in Australia actually knew who she was. No one here knew she was a princess. As far as the organisers of the Legion’s Games were concerned she was just running the Prince’s social media campaign.
Freddie had told her no one would be bothered anyway but she hadn’t believed him. She was about to find out.
She wrapped the soft white towelling robe around her and stepped out of the bathroom to find her assistant waiting for her. Viktoria’s father had given permission for her to travel to Sydney with the proviso that she was escorted. Brigitta was on hand to attend to her schedule, wardrobe, hair and make-up. They had known each other since they were children—Brigitta’s mother worked in the palace too—and Viktoria had to admit she was pleased to have some familiar company. As eager as she’d been to escape the palace, she wasn’t accustomed to being alone.
‘Can you run me through the plans for the day?’ she asked as she noticed the outfit Brigitta had chosen and laid out on the bed for her.
She was confident she knew what was on the agenda, but she knew that plans could change at the last minute and she didn’t want to be caught out. It was important to her to give a good first impression.
‘One of the Games officials will meet you here at nine o’clock and escort you out to the facilities,’ Brigitta told her. ‘I gather most of the events will take place at one main venue and you’ll tour that first.’