Resilient Reign Read online

  “If it will ease your mind, I’ll have the Senior Cardinal Decoti from the Church of Molave visit you under the pretext of blessing the reunification of your marriage to Lucille. It’s a common procedure when there has been discord.”

  I found myself at a loss for words, an unusual situation for a man in my profession—however, labeling my new profession was becoming more difficult.

  Prince.

  Duke.

  Son.

  Husband.

  Prostitute.

  Before I could respond, the sound of voices grew louder beyond the king’s door leading to the outer offices. His dark gaze turned to me questioningly. I stood, standing between the door and the king. It wasn’t a thought-out decision but rather an instinctive sense of duty I felt to a man who didn’t deserve it.

  Add bodyguard to my job description.

  One of the double doors opened inward.

  “Your Majesty, Your Highness,” the young royal guard said with a bow. “Princess Lucille is here to see you.”

  “I didn’t send for her,” King Theodore said. “Tell her to return when I call.”

  Lucille appeared behind the guard. “Your Grace,” she said with a curtsy. Her eyes only on the king.

  “Lucille, what is the meaning of this?” the king questioned.

  My pulse quickened with her presence. There was a new quality in her beautiful blue stare, in her straight posture, and in the way she presented herself.

  She lifted her chin. “You sent for me, demanding my presence. I’m now here for an audience with my king.”

  Lucille

  Silence hung heavily in the air. With each passing second, my mouth grew dryer and my skin prickled. Maintaining my façade, I kept my attention on King Theo as everyone awaited his response. That wasn’t to say I was unaffected by the presence of my husband. I felt his stare, not with the dread as before, yet his presence was palpable. There was no way I could meet his gaze and keep my nerve.

  With a nod and exhale, King Theo gestured for the guard to allow me entry.

  “I will leave the two of you, Papa,” Roman volunteered.

  The door closed behind me.

  I took a step forward and again offered King Theo a curtsy. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  The king motioned toward the chairs facing his desk. “Sit, both of you.”

  “Your Highness,” I said, my gaze barely meeting Roman’s.

  While I’d only walked a few steps, it felt as if I’d finished a marathon. Once we were all seated, I tried to control the racing pace of my heart.

  “Lucille,” the king said, his dark stare on me. “It’s good to see that you’re well from your trip. You and Roman will be expected to take part in the upcoming state banquet.”

  “Yes,” I replied but wanting to move beyond pageantry.

  “The royal jeweler will be at your disposal for whatever you choose to wear.”

  A shiny accessory.

  Taking a deep breath, I resolved that there would be more to me than gowns and jewels. “Sir, I’m bound by my vow to Molave.”

  “You are. Explain your behavior. Why would you break protocol and come to me unrequested?”

  Sitting on the edge of the chair with my ankles crossed beneath me, I forged ahead. “Sir, on my way to Molave Palace, I came across a situation in Brynad, inside the Boutch province.” I sat tall. “I wanted you” —I gazed at Roman— “both of you to hear the news from me.”

  “What did you do?” Roman’s question came forth with all the irritation and determination of the man before him.

  The king’s gaze narrowed.

  “I spoke to a crowd outside a closed grocer’s.”

  While King Theo remained silent, red seeped upward from his shirt collar, turning his neck and cheeks a shade of crimson. His stare fluttered between Roman and me.

  “Your Majesty,” I went on, “the citizens said the grocer had been closed for three days.”

  “It isn’t your concern, Princess.”

  “Yes,” I pressed forward, “it is. My vow was to you, to my husband” —I looked briefly to my side— “and to the people of Molave. I’ve asked Roman for years to allow me to help with the people. They listen when I speak.” My sentences were coming increasingly rapid-fire. “It isn’t my objective to take my husband’s place but to be beside him, to help. I’m only able to reflect his light if I’m seen. The people said the markets are now all owned by the royal family. It wasn’t so when I was first taught about the country’s economy.”

  King Theo took a deep breath and leaned back against his chair. “The queen stays content with her duties. You can assist her with the upcoming event.”

  “Yes, sir. I respect that. I will. I also want to do more.” I feigned a smile, reached over to my husband’s arm, and kept my eyes veiled. “I want to help you, Roman.” I swallowed the lump in my throat brought on by Roman’s cold response. Turning back to the king, I added, “Your Majesty, it is within your authority to allow me—”

  “Everything is in my authority,” he said, interrupting. His attention went to Roman. “Why have you not brought Lucille’s requests to me before now?”

  This was a performance for my benefit.

  As Roman responded, the two men weren’t the only ones acting. I was also on the stage, needing to convince my king of my desire while maintaining the façade that I had no knowledge of the truth about the man at my side.

  Roman was speaking. “…discuss it in private. My decision is made.” He stood and puffed his chest. “My judgments are not to be questioned.”

  My palms dampened and my chin remained high as Roman’s tirade continued. Once he was done, I waited, my gaze on the king. Finally, I replied, “I promised the people, sir. I promised to return tomorrow—”

  “Absolutely not,” Roman roared.

  King Theo lifted his hand in silence. “What did you promise, Lucille?”

  “I gave my word that I would speak to you. I also promised to return to Brynad tomorrow to see that the grocer’s is reopened.”

  “You don’t have that authority,” the king said matter-of-factly.

  “I’m speaking to you, sir, the man with the authority. That is half my promise.”

  King Theodore stood and paced by the window near his desk. The way his forehead furrowed and he pressed his lips together, I had a seed of hope that he was possibly considering my plea.

  I wanted to turn to Roman, to make contact, to let him know I wasn’t trying to harm his role, but instead, I was determined to keep mine. However, with the king near, I stayed mute. Each step in his trek twisted my nerves tighter than a second before.

  Finally, he turned our direction. “I will speak with the Ministry of the Interior,” King Theo said.

  “Lucille is not going back to Brynad tomorrow on her own. I will not allow it,” Roman said.

  “Once I speak to Lord Rowlings,” King Theo said, “I will make my decision.”

  Taking a deep breath, I allowed my lips to turn upward.

  King Theo took his seat and turned his entire focus on me. “Go to Mr. Davies today, Princess. Your health is our primary concern.”

  I nodded. “I’m well, Your Grace. I believe allowing the people of Molave to see more of me” —I paused— “especially if the procedure works, will reinforce that the royal family is strong and growing.”

  “I’m canceling the procedure,” Roman said. Still standing, he’d moved closer to my chair. “The king and I were just discussing it.”

  I replied to the king, not my husband. “Providing an heir is my duty.”

  “You’re dismissed, Princess,” the king said.

  Standing, I curtsied.

  “Go to the physician. From what I’ve been told, the procedure should not occur for a few more days.”

  The idea that the king was so closely tracking my ovulation was too upsetting to ruminate upon. “Yes, sir.”

  “And Lucille.”

  “Yes.”

  “Speak nothing of the closed markets with Queen Anne.”

  “If that is your wish.” I paused. “It would look poorly if I didn’t return to Brynad as I promised.”

  “You will have my official answer after Roman and I speak, and after we’ve spoken to Lord Rowlings.”

  “Thank you, sir.” I turned to Roman and offered a neck bow. “Your Highness.”

  “We will speak.”

  While the threat was there, in a matter of weeks, the internal fear of impending encounters had waned.

  Another nod to my husband and I turned toward the door. Once free from the sanctum of the king’s private office, I remembered to breathe. Beyond the next offices, I found Lady Buckingham. Her eyes opened wide as I came into view.

  “Your Highness.” Concern was evident in her expression. “Are you well?”

  I smiled. “My titles are still intact.”

  “The king?” she whispered.

  My mistress and I spoke quietly as we walked to the prince’s and my apartments. The hallways near the king’s office were busier than those toward the residence, yet never were we completely alone.

  “Was surprised by my forwardness,” I answered.

  “The prince?”

  “Happy wouldn’t be a fitting description.” I turned to her. “The king mentioned the diplomat banquet.”

  “Yes, ma’am. It has been on your schedule.”

  I shook my head. “I feel unprepared.”

  “No need to worry. I’ve been in communication with Lady Kornhall. She’s assured me your attire is planned and Friday you will meet with the royal jeweler and decide what to wear.”

  It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. There was no doubt that a lovely gown and jewels from the royal jeweler would materialize in plenty of time
. Once we were within the apartments, I told Lady Buckingham about the king’s order to see Mr. Davies today.

  “I will have lunch brought to you and call the royal physician’s office for a time. The Princess of Molave should not be made to wait.”

  I reached out and covered Lady Buckingham’s hand. “Thank you, Mary. I know you care.”

  “What of your promise to return to Brynad?”

  “His majesty said he’d speak to the minister of the interior and get back to Lady Larsen.” Lady Larsen was my personal secretary. “She’ll inform me.”

  “That is far better than I’d feared.”

  “I had imagined far worse too,” I confessed.

  I was alone in my apartment with my lunch, awaiting my appointment with the royal physician, when my phone buzzed. Looking at the screen, I read my husband’s name. I opened his text message.

  “Wait for me in our apartments. You are forbidden from leaving for any reason.”

  Forbidden.

  The chicken pasta salad churned in my stomach as I contemplated my next move. By the time on the clock, I would need to leave soon for Mr. Davies’ exam; unsurprisingly, he made time to see me sooner than I planned.

  There was a knock as the door to my parlor opened.

  “Your Highness, it is time for me to escort you to Mr. Davies.”

  I looked back down at my phone and up to my mistress. “The prince has forbidden it.”

  “The king…”

  Roman

  An hour had passed since I sent the text message to Lucille. With my uncertainty on the privacy status of our communication, the direct order was all I felt comfortable sending. That’s not to say that there weren’t copious thoughts going through my head that I wanted to relay; most presumably, the words I was thinking were inappropriate for the princess’s ears, especially if our communications were monitored.

  For nearly the last two hours, I sat at the king’s side as Lord Rowlings and his assistant, the Duke of Hampshire, briefed us on the status of small markets and supply-chain glitches.

  I would rather have Lucille to myself in Monovia, but unquestionably, the Molave Palace was where I would learn the relevant and current tensions transpiring within Molave. The king’s and my discussion of Borinkia was put on the back burner by more pressing concerns.

  Lucille was right to bring the situation to our attention. Although I never acknowledged her behavior as positive to the king, her bravery brought a problem to light that even I hadn’t noticed as we traveled through the Boutch province.

  While in the king’s presence, I overheard an aide informing him that Lucille’s appointment with the royal physician was scheduled. I gritted my teeth as I waited to be informed. The message wasn’t relayed. That was when I sent the text.

  Now, with Lord Martin at my side, I was headed up to our apartments.

  “Your appointments are waiting, sir,” he reminded me for the third time.

  “I will tend to those after the matter of the princess.”

  We were almost to the top of the grand staircase when he spoke in a hushed tone. “It isn’t like you, sir, to put the princess above your duties.”

  Stopping, I turned to Lord Martin, keeping my voice hushed yet stern. “I’ve watched and read. Roman would not allow what Lucille did today to go without words.”

  “Words” —he inhaled— “would not be the end of it.”

  “I know my role.”

  “The state banquet.”

  “What about it?” I asked.

  “The princess should not be marred.”

  The small hairs on the back of my neck bristled. “Do not question me about my responses, not when it has to do with the princess.” I lowered my volume. “I don’t care what an asshole Roman was. I will not raise my hand to her or any woman.”

  “Harsh words, sir. That will do.”

  I stood taller. “It will do.” We walked along the corridors until the double doors of the princess’s and my apartments were in view. “Go to my offices. Have all appointments rescheduled for a half an hour from now. I’m certain you can say whatever is necessary to smooth the situation. After all, I have been in audience with the king.”

  He peered down at the watch on his wrist.

  “Make it work,” I said impatiently. “Reschedule some to tomorrow if necessary.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said with a neck bow.

  Tugging on the front of the suit coat, I stood tall, pushing my shoulders back and approaching the entry to our parlor. Once inside, I scanned the empty room. It appeared the same as it had been before our trip to Monovia, sans fresh new flowers on the large round table near the entry and a fire flickering in the large fireplace.

  Instead of heading directly toward my suite, I went to the doors leading to Lucille’s and without knocking, turned the knob and pushed the door inward.

  The princess and Lady Buckingham turned my way with a gasp and wide eyes. Since the princess’s arrival in the king’s office, she’d changed her clothes, now wearing a pair of soft pants and a long jumper. Her long dark hair was down and damp and her beauty undefiled by makeup.

  “Your Highness,” they said in unison as they both stood and curtsied.

  My focus stayed on the princess as my command came forth, “Leave us, Lady Buckingham.”

  Although I’d been rehearsing my rebuke in my head, the raw beauty of the woman before me rendered me speechless. As the doors closed, leaving us alone, I couldn’t resist the pull to go to her. With less than a meter separating us, Lucille cast her gaze downward.

  “Are you here to admonish me?”

  “Yes,” I replied, my tone less than harsh.

  She lifted her chin and spoke softly. “You promised to help me.”

  “Helping you is setting you free.”

  Lucille shook her head. “Helping the citizens is what I need to do.”

  “Your appointment?”

  “I didn’t go. My husband forbade it.”

  A smile lifted my cheeks as I cupped one of hers with my palm. “Lord Martin warned me that you will be observed at the state banquet, and I should keep my rebuke to words.”

  Lucille’s face inclined to my touch. “I want to help you succeed.” Her lashes fluttered as she closed and opened her blue eyes. “But I won’t be discarded, Roman. I’m not being replaced.”

  The divorce.

  “I spoke to the king about it,” I confessed.

  “What did he say?”

  “At first, he tried to pretend there wasn’t a plan in the works, but then he admitted that Roman was in talks with Alek Volkov.”

  Lucille lowered her chin.

  With a thumb and finger, I lifted her face until her blue orbs were visible. “What reason did you give the royal physician’s office?”

  “The truth.”

  “I suppose that will be the next discussion I have with the king. He’s aware of my displeasure.” I took a step back and scanned Lucille from her hair to her bare toes. “You never wear shoes.”

  “I do. I recently finished my bath in preparation for tonight’s dinner.”

  “Yeah, fuck,” I mumbled. “Dinner with the king and queen will be fine. Friday evening…” I tilted my head. “I could use a crash course in state banquets. Are you available to be my teacher?”

  Her smile blossomed. “Only if you’ll stop talking about divorce.”

  I shook my head. “Can’t you see? I want you safe. America is safe.”

  Lucille came closer and reached for my hand, entwining our fingers. “Together is safest, Roman.”

  Earlier this morning, I left this woman in tears, resolving to save her by sending her away. In the hours that passed, my determination had lessened. Snaking my arm around her waist, I brought her hips to mine. Tilting my head forward with our lips millimeters apart, I spoke. “The only part of you I’ll ever bruise are your luscious lips.”

  Her blue orbs sparkled. “If kissing is my punishment, I fear I’ll continue to misbehave.”

  “Then I’ll need to find more grueling punishments,” I said as my lips took hers. She tasted sweet like toothpaste and any thoughts of admonishing this stunning, strong woman in my arms faded away.

  When we pulled apart, my smile returned, and I ran my thumb over her pinkened lips. Looking up to her gaze, I spoke low. “It’s far too dangerous for you to travel back to Brynad.”

  “I was just there. It wasn’t dangerous.”