Of Royal Blood: Part One (Courting Magik Series Book 1)

by Michele Barrow-Belisle

  “You’ll be fine Kat. Just don't forget where you came from.” He gave an earnest nod, then went off to prep waffle batter for the breakfast menu.

  Forgetting where I’d come from. That was an impossible dream, the scar I carried with me would forever be a reminder.

  “You really think I can do this? Successfully, I mean. And not screw things up.” Like always. Without ending up at the wrong end of the hangman’s noose?

  “Kat,” he called over his shoulder without looking at me. “You need to stop blaming yourself. Not every bad thing that happens is your fault. Sometimes shit just hits the fan. No one’s to blame. Dammit.” He cursed as three eggs splattered on the floor, spilling their innards across the black-and-white checkered tiles.

  “Need help?” Was I making excuses to stay here now? Anything to keep me from those strange marbled halls.

  “Nah. Go. I got this. And you,” he turned to point at me, egg goo dripping from the tip of his finger, “you’ve totally got it, too. Always have.” His slight smile was telling. Revealing too much of what was in his heart.

  So I hopped off my stool and headed for the door, without another word, and without looking back. I couldn't be responsible for breaking any more hearts in this place. I’d broken enough.

  ***

  I arrived an hour early, to make sure I had time to settle into my suite and gather my bearings before starting the lesson plans with Princess Charlotte. She was as precocious as she was adorable, and I was fairly certain we’d get on just fine. The queen on the other hand…well, only the wolves got along with that woman.

  When I was younger, eight, maybe nine, I’d dress up in a gown…well, technically, it was my sister’s first communion gown. I’d put on makeup and high heels, and a paper crown, and paraded around the house, insisting everyone bow to me when I walked past. I’d strolled around, my head tipped back, nose up in the air. One day, I actually ran into a wall. My nose bled all over Tina’s dress, and completely ruined it. That ended my royal reign, and I remember she didn’t speak to me for over a month.

  I remembered it vividly, because it changed something in me. Tainted my perception of love, that it wasn’t as unconditional as I’d believed. And that pretending to be more than you were only led to bloodshed. Okay, it was extreme and drastic, but those were the conclusions my eight-year-old self had formed, and they were cemented in me, because every year, life proved them right.

  I had no interest or desire to be like them, the Royals, but that part must have stayed alive somewhere deep inside me, because even now with everything seemingly perilous, I still got chills standing in the gilded marble foyer crowned with dazzling chandeliers.

  I followed Anabel, the staff manager, as she marched brusquely down one hall after another, leading me to my room. The wheels of my suitcase squealed in protest at the pace, while I dragged it down the carpet-lined, well-worn hardwood floors.

  We climbed two flights of stairs and rounded a sharp corner before Anabel stopped abruptly. She threw open a door in the far West wing of the castle.

  “There you go, Ms. Stark. These’ll be yer accommodations while yer at court, then.”

  I nodded and stepped past her into the suite. It was…breathtaking. As a suite in a palace would be. But the colors themselves held me captive at the doorway, so enrapturing I couldn’t even move.

  “Well, don't be shy,” she said, giving me an impatient nudge. “Go on, take a look around. Should have everything you require. And if not, simply ring for the day maid, or the night maid, and someone will fetch whatever yer needin.”

  “Thank you.” I whispered the words, still enthralled by all of it. Soft creamy curtains, fluttering from the morning breeze. Embroidered celadon cushions on a warm amethyst sofa. Dark wood furnishings were punctuated with hints of bronze throughout. In the adjacent room, a four-poster bed, beneath two small crystal chandeliers. It wasn’t a huge space but compared to the room I shared with my sister and nephew in our trailer, it was massive. I’d never come close to living in such luxe.

  “So. Let’s get ye all sorted then.” She pointed quickly in various directions. “Closet, lavatory… and map of the castle interior are on the desk, along with necessary phone numbers. And Princess Charlotte’s classroom is on the East wing, one floor down. Lessons should begin at ten a.m. sharp each weekday. Midday break and then finished by three p.m. After that, yer time is yer own. Use it wisely, mind you.” Her finger stopped at me. “Her Majesty doesn’t take well to time-wasters, nor any antics that might end up in the papers.”

  I wandered to the small walnut corner desk, nestled between the bay window seat and the far wall. The map was detailed and seemed easy enough to follow. I was familiar with the classroom... I’d been there before. And the East wing…the servant’s wing…well, I had very vivid memories of that part of the castle, too. Specifically, Ethan, the blonde, and their rather loud encounter there.

  My fingers trailed over the page. “What about the old library?” I asked, propping my suitcase against the desk wardrobe. “The one on the fourth floor?”

  “Tis still closed, I’m afraid.” She shrugged. “Some say it’s haunted.” She chuckled to herself. “That the spirits themselves whisper from inside the pages of the books.”

  I felt a tiny shiver. “That’s a new one.” I smiled, adding, “Never heard those rumors before.” I’d ventured there on a few occasions when I used to pick up Justina. No one knew of course, but it was a massive castle with very few guards monitoring it, once you got inside. Curiosity had always gotten the best of me, and I’d wandered while Father chatted with the guards as we waited.

  “But the new library will suffice fer yer needs. Far more recent material to be found there, for certain. And an entire section devoted to the wee ones and their learnin’.”

  She looked like she was about to leave, when she paused. Her eyes, wise and penetrating, held mine. “Yer well versed in the Royal Rules, I presume. See that you mind them.”

  Her warning struck dread in my chest. The map fluttered from my fingers back to the desk as I listened.

  With a quick check over her shoulder, she leaned in, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. “The Crown is cutthroat. They’ve risen to power on a mountain of corpses overlooking a sea of blood. They are untouchable. And they are unforgiving. Never leak anything you see or hear to the media. Ever. Discretion will keep you alive, Ms. Stark. As will keepin’ yer distance from the bonnie prince.”

  My face flushed, belying me even as I shook my head. “I, uh, the prince, I’m not…”

  Her palm raised to stopped me. “Save your opposition. T’was fairly evident he wanted you at court for a reason. And whatever that reason may be, ye best make sure it’s put to rest. Immediately.” A deep frown worked across her brow, as she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “Those who do not pay strict attention to Her Majesty’s rules…are often never seen, nor heard from, again. This’ll be the sole warnin’ you’ll get from me lass.”

  My head was spinning. The feeling of dread sank deep as I replayed her words. “Okay. So, when you say disappear…” I didn't know quite how to finish that question. I mean, what she was implying was insane. And illegal, right? She had to mean disappear the way Justina had. She wasn’t gone, gone, just gone from Court.

  Something in Anabel shifted, and her entire stance changed. She lifted her chin, her jaw working as it tensed. “Just keep yer head down, do yer job, and all will be well.” She bristled. “Now…” her gaze dropped to her watch, “I must see to some other new arrivals, so you’ll be on yer own for now.”

  I smiled, forcing back the feeling of panic her words stirred in me.

  “Ye certain you can manage then?” Her brows tightened as she studied me.

  “I’m sure I’ll survive,” I lied. I’d never felt less sure of anything in my life.

  Anabel left, shutting the door heavily behind her, but as it closed, I could have sworn I heard her whisper, “That, remains to be seen.”


  CHAPTER 8

  My first few days consisted of mainly more rules and settling into my new spaces. Yes, spaces…plural. That alone took some getting used to. I was one step closer to becoming comfortable with all the rooms I’d be occupying during the week. And the classroom where I’d give lessons to the Princess Charlotte… a little girl with dark red curls and an ancient soul. How a five-year-old could have such depth was beyond me, but she would be a joy to teach. She was joy, period. Kids could be a pain, so I’d lucked out with the ones in my life, Lincoln and now Charlie. They were both pretty awesome. And they both brought such light to the darkness of their lives.

  Her Nanny, Ingrid, had brought her to my chambers to meet me.

  “I am sorry for the intrusion,” she said, looking utterly worn down. “But the princessa is quite used to getting what she wants, and what she wanted was to pay you a visit. Immediately.” The woman’s eyes widened dramatically before she rolled them.

  I took in the small person who was clearly giving the woman a run for her money, and gave a small curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you, Princess Charlotte.” Like her mother, she was small but mighty.

  The little girl sauntered up to me, her hand outstretched. “You have pretty hair. I like you.” Her nod bounced her curls. “Doesn’t matter if they don’t.”

  A little puzzled, I bent to her level. “And who are they?” I asked with a conspiratorial smile.

  Her nose wrinkled in a frown. “They don’t want me to tell you yet,” she answered. “But we’re friends now. I like when my friends call me Charlie.”

  “Is that so?” I straightened, exchanging a quick glance with the nanny. “Well, perhaps I can do that when we’re in class and working on your studies together.”

  She seemed satisfied with that compromise because she turned to her Nanny and said, “Okay, we can go now.”

  I laughed at the bewilderment on Ingrid’s face. “Lovely to finally meet you, Charlie,” I said, crouching. “Promise we’ll have a great time together.”

  She wrapped her tiny arms around my neck and gave me the tightest squeeze her little muscles could manage. “I know we will.”

  I couldn’t help ruffling her hair as she bounced out of the room, dragging a stuffed bunny along the floor behind her.

  Alone again, I folded onto the window seat in the wide bay window and stared out over the breathtaking view. Fields of wild flowers, artfully arranged to look neat, but not manicured. Even nature it seemed, had to follow the Royal Rules.

  My enthusiasm for working with the young princess had grown, but I couldn’t shake the weighted worry still resting on my chest. If I really did have magik, then all I had to do was make sure it never happened again when anyone was around. The only thing connected to the events were heightened emotions... anger, nerves, fear. I fingered the ring. Maybe it was responsible for what was happening. I tugged at it, trying to pull it off my finger.

  Stuck.

  I sighed. If it was some sort of secret charmed amulet, I wanted nothing to do with it. But it had belonged to my grandmother and had somehow come to me. I didn't have the heart to go so far as to have it cut off.

  Maybe I could survive this. Just Obey the Royal Rules. Don't get involved with the prince. That one was easy. Don’t get caught doing magik. That one was harder, considering I had no idea how it worked. And don’t break any of the Royal Rules.

  I clutched a velvet cushion to my chest and took a long deep breath, my thoughts meandering back to Ethan. I had my own rules. Like, never work in a donut shoppe. And never fall for someone who will break your heart. And his devilish grin, and dead-sexy stare had heartbreaker written all over them.

  He had a naughty side and wasn’t shy about letting it be seen… Hannah’s magazine rack was proof of the countless times he’d been photographed, with or without his permission, because of something he’d done or someone he shouldn’t have done. I related to the rebel in him, though I was nowhere near as bold. I think I’d rather die than have my personal life splayed across the pages of a magazine or blog for all the world to see. But the public eye didn’t seem to faze him. He took it in stride and took pleasure in the reactions that erupted when his mother found out about his latest antics. Honestly, I sort of took pleasure in it, too. She was scary and controlling and mean. I’d heard Tina’s stories and witnessed it for myself. Dark energy rolled off that woman, in spades. It felt good to see someone defy her for a change, instead of cowering. Especially when that someone was her favorite son…and also her husband. At least there were at least two people on the planet she couldn’t control.

  Again, without permission, my mind drifted to thoughts of Ethan. They seemed pulled in that direction more and more lately. It didn’t hurt that he was pleasant to think about. I pulled out my journal and started jotting down my thoughts. Best way to get them out of my head, and I needed him out of my head. What was so compelling? I scrawled across the top of a fresh page. I mean, he was brilliant. His charitable work was renowned, even if sporadic. Limited to when he felt like it and wasn’t too hung over, or otherwise engaged…as in, tangled up in the bedsheets of the latest blonde. I was a brunette, as far from bombshell as I could possibly be without being considered unattractive…and had zero interest in staying up all night to party for seventy-two hours straight. Naked. In Vegas. We were as incompatible as any two humans on the planet. But that didn’t stop the fantasies. I started writing…

  He was the kind of guy you couldn’t not day dream about. That perfect storm of sexy, sweet and sinful. His Scottish-born father’s chiseled jaw, cerulean blue eyes, and head of unruly mahogany highlights. And his mother’s deep Italian complexion, flawless skin, and perfectly sculpted lips. The dimple on his left cheek was entirely his own. And like the rest of his lean, athletic body, he wore it well. Everyone noticed. In truth I’d always noticed. But all of that was before I knew what I knew now. That the fantasies…they had to be more than what they seemed.

  I closed my journal, feeling only more conflicted after the emotional purge.

  My phone buzzed. A text from Hannah. My heart lifted at the sight of her smiling face on my screen. But then plummeted when I read her message. She wasn’t going to be housed here at the palace. The infirmary was located in one of the annexes, a twenty-minute drive away. I scanned her pics of the massive array of tonics and herbs, then sent the requisite smiley faces and heart emojis, before closing my phone and slipping it into my back pocket.

  There was nothing left to do once I’d finished unpacking, so I decided to wander the castle. There was so much of it I had yet to explore, but I found myself drawn to the places I used to haunt before. Quiet, out of the way, private places. I took the steps to the fourth floor two at a time and then stopped short as Ethan appeared in front of me.

  “Well, well…Katriana Stark.” His glacial eyes sparkled in the dim lighting as they travelled over me.

  “Your Majesty.” I bowed my head.

  “Okay, if we’re going to be living together, at least call me Ethan in private.”

  I looked around. This was relatively private. In fact, probably a little too private. But I caved. “Fine. Ethan, then. And it’s Kat, remember.”

  “Oh, I remember.” He grinned. “So, are you getting your bearings?”

  “More or less.” The direction I was headed wasn’t one I was supposed to be going, so might as well pretend to be following the rules on day one. “I understand there’s a common area?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  “No, you don’t—”

  “It’s fine.” He gestured for me to come with him, so I did. We wandered down the halls until we reached the grand foyer that led to a variety of rooms, each with double mahogany French doors spread wide open. Like the welcoming invite of the spider to the fly.

  I paused outside the common room, reluctant to enter. I wasn’t in the mood to socialize with strangers at the moment.

  “Don’t want to go in?” Ethan’s brow arched.


  I peered into the opulent room, some faces I recognized from the interview, most I didn’t. “Is it terrible that I really don’t?”

  He laughed. “Not at all.” He crossed over to a sideboard on the far side of the lobby, where he poured a glass of punch from a crystal bowl and handed it to me.

  “Thanks. Actually, I’d hoped to be exploring with my friend, Hannah…” My voice trailed. Disappointment flooded me all over again. It’d be one thing to know she was a few floors away, but another entirely to know she was actually twenty minutes away. My shift in mood must have registered on my face, because Ethan asked what was wrong.

  “Nothing, really. Hannah’s at the infirmary, and it’s just, I’d hoped to have a friend here at court. Seems I won’t be seeing much of her at all, since she’s not even in the castle.”

  A determined look crossed his face and he held out his hand, palm up. “Your phone. Give it to me.”

  Phones were another no-no, and I couldn’t fathom how he knew I had mine. “What?” I glanced over my shoulder.

  “Give me your phone, Kat with a K.”

  “You know, you can just say, Kat, since I've known how to spell my own name for a while now, thanks.”

  His eyes sparkled, but his only reply was, “You're stalling.”

  I reached into my pocket and handed him my phone.

  I couldn’t afford to have it confiscated on the very first day. The day before my first day even. Crossing my arms over my chest, I frowned. “What are you doing with it?”

  “Taking a picture of my junk. What do you think?”

  My mouth parted a little. “You're...you're what?”

  “Relax, Kitkat—”

  “Yeah, still hate that.”