A Royal Wedding: The Royals Series

by Brown, Tara

  “It’s my favorite kind of honesty.” That was a lie but it was the only kind I ever got from Bea.

  “It seems to me the two of you started this relationship with some set ideas of how your lives would be, and when Geoff died, they were completely smashed. And I’m doubtful either of you has caught up to it all.”

  “What do you mean?” I was almost scared to ask.

  “You, the eternal party girl who was never going to stop living life and being fun, rules be damned. And he, the deep philosopher who would never let his family or country hold him back from another adventure. A poet really, on the hunt for a muse.”

  That made me smile.

  “And then Geoff dies and everything goes by the wayside. You two have had to step into new roles and new paths, and you put on these brave faces, but in reality, I think you’re pissed off. And you want to fight it, but you love him so much and he loves you even more, that you are unable to. So you take it out on each other, latching on to the pettiest shit to create a campaign of dissidence”—she sighed, shaking her head slowly—“when all you need to do is figure out how to modify the current path so it has the spoils of everything. You two idiots have the world by the balls and you can’t see it.”

  I was stunned silent. Plus, it was a lot to take in. Bea and Carter had a lot more in common than I’d expected.

  “Sorry. Those psych classes are paying off, I suppose.” She laughed carelessly, like she hadn’t just solved world peace. In my world, anyway. “Or it’s hanging out with Carter so much. He’s rubbing off on me.”

  “How much do I owe you for the hour?” I tried to joke but the overwhelming feelings of truth choked me up.

  “Don't waste it. That's my fee. Don't waste this love, Fin.” Bea stood up and walked to the door. “Because if he ends up with someone else, you’ll be a miserable cow to be around, and I can’t imagine him if you end up with some random bloke.” She waved over her shoulder and strolled out like a boss. Like she had just dropped the truth bomb and the mic.

  But I didn't have time to process it all.

  I had to get to the Gardens.

  11

  The truth totally doesn't set you free. It sets you on fire and burns everyone else too.

  Crotch match

  “So then, I tell him if he wants to continue moaning on about everything, he’s gonna find hisself without dinner at this rate.” Carmen shot me a bit of a grin as Marigold continued on, “Shut his mouth then, didn't he?”

  Marigold was one of the aides at the Walled Gardens and sassier than you expected when you met the small woman. She came across as shy and sweet, but she was awkward and found it hard to make friends. But once you were friends . . . it was on.

  “Did ya tell him to sod off?” Carmen asked, still outraged at all men. Though I didn't blame her. “Tell that thankless knobhead that ya know a girl marrying a king, and if he ain’t watching himself, she might find you a right rich old man to marry instead!”

  I laughed, mostly not wanting to break her heart by saying that Aiden and I weren’t marrying. At all.

  We folded towels, something that was Marigold’s job, but helping her with it meant we could gossip, and with the noise of the dryers and washers, no one would be the wiser.

  “Och, like he hasn't heard that one already.” Marigold rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’ve been bringing this one up to everyone, like I know the bloody Queen of England here.” She pointed a thumb at me and cackled a smoker’s laugh. Carmen joined in.

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Anyway, Carmen, the whole reason we came down here to pretend to work was to hear about that guy you went on the date with.”

  “Oh yes, do tell.” Marigold put down the towel she was folding and perked up her ears and eyebrows.

  “Well, there’s nothing to bloody tell, is there? We went for dinner, I was talking about myself when I caught him watching the football match on his phone between his bloody legs. I thought for a minute he was obsessed with his own, you know”—her eyebrows lifted as her fingers pointed between her own legs—“his manly bits. But then they scored and he actually cheered, staring at his own tadger, mid meal.”

  A giggle burst from me as I processed what she was saying.

  “What ya mean?” Marigold wasn't getting it.

  “His phone. His bloody iPhone. Made it into a mini TV, hasn't he then? Watching the little wee telly between his legs during the meal instead of listening to me go on. Then he starts cheering his team but staring between his legs. And I don’t know the phone’s there, so I think he’s cheering hisself, don’t I?” Carmen threw her arms into the air. “I give up. I’m done with the whole lot of them.”

  My giggle grew. The harder I stifled it, the worse it got. Finally, Marigold caught on and she burst into a loud cackle.

  Carmen waved a hand at us both.

  “I’m sorry.” I forced myself to stop but the sound ended up being similar to a sheep bleating from between my pressed lips.

  Marigold didn't even bother. She belly laughed as hard as she could for a full minute.

  “Come on, you. We have rounds to do.” Carmen linked an arm in mine and forced me to leave as I continued trembling with laughter. Marigold’s chortle was the soundtrack for the entire hallway.

  By the time we made it to the main floor, I was back to laughing.

  “How is this the funniest thing you’ve ever heard?” Carmen put her hands on her hips.

  “I just can’t.” I waved a hand at her. “Shhhhh,” I pleaded. “Stop talking. Let me catch my breath.” My stomach cramped as I struggled to gain control, but I could imagine the entire thing.

  “Fin?” a man’s voice interrupted my laugh, killing it stone-dead. Frozen, I stared at Carmen, checking to see if she’d heard it too. The blush on her cheeks and the way she started a slow bow told me she had.

  My entire body tensed, my heart jumping to a rapid beat.

  Slowly, I spun around, wincing outwardly like a complete idiot when I saw him. “Aiden.” I tried to recover but there was no hope. “What a pleasant surprise.” It didn't sound or appear pleasant.

  My stomach landed in my bowels with a thud.

  “Your Highness.” Carmen smiled wide. “It is so lovely to see you again. Did you see Janet on your way in?” She hurried to him, still not standing all the way up. “She’ll want to see you again too.”

  “I didn't. There was no one at the desk—should I have made arrangements to come?” He was so polite and smooth, the way he charmed her until she was pink, likely everywhere. There was no resisting him. He smelled like heaven, even from the twelve feet that separated us.

  “No, don't be silly. We are always excited when you come to visit our Fin. And us,” she gushed.

  “Oh my!” Janet exclaimed loudly, right in my ear as she came into the room. “Your Highness, I am so sorry. I didn't know you were coming.” She managed to sneak a dirty look at me. I shook my head, innocent of all charges. He’d snuck past me too, though I had suspected it.

  I never should’ve said a word to Mary. I was an idiot.

  “No, please. I don't want to be a bother. I merely thought, Miss Roze was off around this time and I might escort her home.” He charmed Janet too.

  “Oh, how lucky.”

  “I rode a bike in. I don't need a ride. But since you’re here, you should really take a visit and see the residents, Aiden. They’ll love it,” I insisted, taking it as a small win for my side.

  Bea’s wise advice tried to remind me that I was being petty, but I shushed her voice in my head.

  “Yes, that would be lovely.” Janet beamed at him.

  “Of course, it would be my pleasure.” He offered Janet an arm. “Please, lead the way.”

  I cracked a wide grin as he strolled past, letting her lead him into the lion’s den.

  “Did you know he was coming?” Carmen asked in a whisper.

  “No. I didn't think he could leave the country right now. They have all sorts of reform going
on.” I leaned on her.

  “So this means the rumors aren’t true, the ones about you two breaking things off and him being with that wretched sister-in-law?”

  “No?” I answered with a question. Some of it was true. The sex had muddled the lines we had drawn breaking up, but we were still broken up.

  “Oh my God, you did end things.” Carmen’s eyes were wide with emotion. “Fin!”

  “I didn't want you to be upset. I know how much you love him.”

  “But you love him.”

  “It’s complicated,” I offered my go-to cop-out.

  “Oh, my dear girl. Why didn't you lean on me? Here I am going on about men who watch the telly between their legs, and you have a real crisis.”

  “I’m fine, honestly.” I tried to lie like old Fin. “Let's go see Mrs. Bates while the others attack him.” I led her into the common room so there could be no more talk about the breakup.

  The elderly crowded around Aiden and Janet who acted like she was queen of the world, soaking up all the fame this moment allowed. I liked the view, personally, but Carmen seemed a bit put off, as if she had lost some of her love for him.

  That bothered me. While I appreciated her loyalty, I couldn't help but notice mine remained with him.

  “That your beau, Fin?” Mrs. Bates asked, no longer pretending to be deaf nor senile in my presence. She had finally given up.

  “That is Andorra’s king.” This was confusing and I regretted telling him to come and say hello.

  “Who?” She scowled.

  “The King of Andorra.”

  “Ahh! You’re pulling me leg, Fin.”

  “I’m not, I swear.” I lifted my hands.

  “Why’d he come here?” She scowled at him, not nearly as impressed as everyone else.

  “Because he loves, Fin,” Carmen said.

  “Why?” Mrs. Bates gave me the stink eye. “He likes smart-mouths, does he?”

  “Not particularly,” I managed to say with a smile.

  “Hmph.” She turned back to her game of solitaire.

  I helped her through a couple more turns, trying not to stare at the man winning everyone over, as he did.

  “Well, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I do have some work to attend to.” Aiden offered a hand to Janet. “Thank you again for having me.”

  “Oh, you’re so welcome. Thank you!” Janet gushed. “Any time.”

  “Fin.” He said my name in a way I knew it was nonnegotiable. “Shall we?”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Bates,” I said as I moved her card for her, earning a growl.

  “See ya tomorrow then?” Carmen said, her eyes darting from me to Aiden not so subtly.

  “Yeah. I’ll come ‘round at three, after class, and give a hand.” I waved at everyone, though I was far less the spectacle than Aiden.

  He walked to the main door and waited for me, discomfort slowly brewing on his face. We’d danced this one already, so I didn’t bother with any formalities.

  “Night,” I said one last time and walked out the door, greeting Isaac on the sidewalk. “Isaac.” His presence this morning should have been a clue. When did he ever arrive in the morning from Andorra? Only when I was in trouble.

  I climbed into the black SUV, noting my bike in the very back. We sat in silence, no fighting or conversation. We had grown up just slightly enough that I no longer needed to make a spectacle of everything.

  Hattie would be so proud when I called her later to complain and make that spectacle. Alone.

  Aiden got in next to me but Isaac remained outside.

  “Aren’t we leaving?” I asked, confused.

  “Yes. I needed a moment first. Before we get to the house,” he spoke in a low tone as he closed the door. “I came to spread my dad’s ashes. Will you come with us?”

  “What?” I turned to him, surprised and confused. “Sorry. I mean of course. I just, I guess I assumed your relatives would all be buried in the tomb. The funeral and all.” I was lost.

  “Yes, the funeral was entirely for the country. He wanted to be cremated and his ashes spread in Scotland—there’s a spot he asked about. Told me the backstory in private. I have to respect his wishes.”

  “Your mom doesn’t know the story?” What was happening?

  “No one knows.” He drew in his heavy dark brow, maybe contemplating how to explain. “He told me on his deathbed. I had no idea about his life before he was forced to marry my mother. Or how forced it all was.”

  “Oh.” So many things his mother had said over the years clicked into place.

  “Supposedly, he didn’t want to be king or marry her or live in Andorra.” His lips toyed with a grin. “So I expect he understood me better than I imagined.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Or what to add to this awkward conversation in this uncomfortable place we were in. And the comment about not wanting to marry was weird. “Does she know you’re here?”

  “Of course, Fin. Don’t be daft.” He paused, tilting his head and taking a breath. “That’s not what I meant—”

  “Don’t bother,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Just explain the story.”

  “No.” He turned toward me more, taking my hands in his. “I was rude and I’m apologizing. I’m sorry, Fin. I didn’t mean to call you daft. I’m exhausted and stressed and what’s that annoying thing you always say—?”

  I drew a blank, most of what I said annoyed him.

  “I’m not evening. I can’t even.” A wide grin took ownership of his mouth and eyes. “You snuck out of my bed, out of my country, and didn’t answer my texts, and I can’t even with you, Fin. And to make matters worse, you were photographed kissing Lucas Reid the very same day.”

  “God, will everyone stop about this? I didn't kiss Lucas Reid. We shared a ride, and he kissed my cheek as we parted, like normal European people do. And you didn’t text me.” I stifled a frustrated laugh.

  “I most certainly have! I’ve texted you hundreds of times. I’ve surely come across as—oh what is it you call them?—a stalker. I’m a stalker.” He pulled out his phone, showing me the messages.

  “How is this possible?” I started to read but he snatched it away.

  “It’s probably for the best that you didn’t get the ones closer to the end.”

  “Were you mean?” I teased, knowing he would’ve been downright awful. Being ignored was not something he was capable of. It wasn’t even a flaw, it was something else. A whole other ball game.

  “Vicious. Not that it matters now.”

  “Oh my God.” A light dinged on in my head. “You didn’t delete my number?” My eyes narrowed as a hateful rage began to bubble in me.

  “God no, why would I do that?” He was so lost. So adorably lost.

  “That’s not my number. When I sent you the picture of Mary and Kennington the Turd, you called me, confused about who sent it.” I grabbed the phone and checked my name in his contacts. “Someone reversed the last two digits of my cell number in your phone. You’ve been sending your mean-ass hate texts to someone else.” I handed the phone back then folded my arms, waiting for him to call it an accident.

  “I’ll have to see about that.” He paused, clenching his jaw. “It explains why you didn’t message me back.” He processed for a moment before shaking his head. “Anyway, I want to know why you left without saying a word after the wake?” he asked with a heavy tone. I wasn't sure if it was heavy with emotion or anger.

  “We had sex and you told me not to talk.” I blinked. “So I didn't talk.”

  “That’s not what I was saying. I meant let’s not ruin the moment with more fighting.” He scooched over a little. “Fin, you know of course I would never—”

  “I don’t, actually. At all. Because from where I was standing it looked an awful lot like you said all those things about missing me to get into my pants, and once you were there, you said no talking. So I didn’t talk. And when I woke and realized what had happened, I didn’t stick around.” My voice rose, “And we
both know you broke things off with me and didn’t try to talk to me for two months. So why would I assume you wanted anything more than what you’d already gotten? It wasn't like it was anything beyond a random hookup in your basement on some dirty old desk!” I was shouting. We were right beside each other, and I was shouting and losing my mind. “It doesn't matter. We broke up, you used me for sex, it’s whatever. Most guys do it. You’re not special. Just leave it at that.” I lowered my voice, “Can we just go?”

  He was vibrating with rage and all the things he hadn’t been able to say, but thumped on the window, a message to Isaac to get into the SUV. Aiden sat back in his seat, staring out the window. I moved closer to my window and stared out too, not sure of anything; our destination, what was going on with his father’s ashes, or what would happen to us.

  12

  Guys always go on about what a rough game rugby is, until they watch girls play it. Then suddenly they’re gentlemen and women are savages. Totally uncool.

  A king’s ransom

  He paced in front of the window as he always did when he was thinking about yelling at me. Which I could tell was coming soon. He was brooding. But I was ready, both guns fully charged for the blazing response he would get.

  He hadn’t spoken since the SUV. When we arrived at the estate, he’d marched into the summerhouse and walked right up to my room—which he’d obviously become acquainted with while I was at the Gardens—and held the door open, expecting me to follow. Which of course I’d done. I didn’t want him snooping in my stuff. Not that I had stuff, but I didn’t want him knowing I didn’t.

  And now we were at a stalemate, a standoff with no standing off.

  It was boring but better than facing the nosy sods downstairs.

  Sods . . . ?

  I was going to end up like Linna if I didn’t watch it.

  My phone buzzed, interrupting my inner rant while staring at his strong body taking such angry large strides.

  How’s it going?