Resilient Reign Read online

  “Your Highness,” Lady Buckingham said as I met her in the outer office. The stress and concern showed in her furrowed brow, pursed lips, and hazel stare.

  “I’m fine, Mary.”

  With a sigh, my mistress closed her eyes. By the time they opened, a stray tear glided down her cheek. “I’ll get an ice pack.”

  “We’re on our way to the infirmary. The king and the prince want to be sure I’m all right.” Reaching for her hands, I spoke softly, leading her from the king’s offices. “This—today—was good. I’m not hurt, not badly.” The pain from my cheek was outweighed by the elation from my last conversation. My heart felt as though it was ready to leap from my chest. “The king and Mrs. Drake thanked me for my service to Molave.” Leaning closer, I looked into her orbs. “I’m doing something.”

  “At what cost, Princess? Your safety? Your health?”

  “A few scratches. It wasn’t intentional. The people wanted to get into the store.”

  I’d had abrasions before. This time it was for the greater good.

  Lady Buckingham slowed her steps as she led me to the side of the grand gallery on our way to the infirmary. “I was in the car with the guards.”

  “Yes.”

  “They spoke in a code of some sort, but I had the feeling they expected the crowd to become unruly when the doors to the grocer’s opened. I even urged them to go to you. They said there were already two guards at your side. If additional palace guards appeared, their gesture could be misconstrued.”

  My eyebrows knitted together as I contemplated what she was telling me. “They anticipated the rush?”

  Mary Buckingham shook her head. “I can’t say that for certain. It was a feeling.”

  Straightening my neck, I forced a smile. “I’ll speak with the prince.” I added quickly, “As well as the king, the foreign minister, and Mrs. Drake.”

  “It wouldn’t be good if the guards believed I was telling tales.”

  “Nonsense. I won’t use your name.” Except with Roman. I would tell him.

  “The guards seemed irritated that Prince Roman was present, from the start.”

  “I’m glad he was there.”

  Mary sighed. “Me too, Your Highness. For once, I was.”

  “Has he seemed different?” I asked, fishing for my mistress’s knowledge.

  “At times. At times you’ve been different as well. It isn’t my place to say.”

  “Come,” I said, reaching for her arm. “Mr. Davies is waiting.”

  Different members of the royal staff curtsied and thanked me for my service as we made our way through the corridors.

  “Word has spread quickly,” I said.

  “Social media,” Lady Buckingham replied. “It was all the king’s secretaries were discussing while you and the prince were in his office.”

  Entering the infirmary, Lady Buckingham announced my presence to the front clinician. “Princess Lucille is here to see Mr. Davies.”

  The clinician stood and curtsied. “Your Highness, let me take you back to an examination room.”

  It wasn’t long before Mr. Davies knocked and entered. His focus immediately went to the bandage on my cheek. “Are there other injuries, Your Highness?”

  I shook my head as my fingertips went to my cheek. “I don’t believe so. Only my cheek. It’s tender, but that’s all.”

  “Let me take a look.”

  As Mr. Davies tended to my cheek, he asked questions about the incident. Once he seemed convinced that I was mostly unharmed, he brought up the usual reason I saw him. “I met with the prince.”

  My chin dropped. “He doesn’t want me to continue with the idea of IUI.”

  I flinched as the physician cleaned my wound.

  Apologizing, he continued his work while speaking. He met my gaze. “Princess, what are your thoughts on the IUI?”

  Sighing, I spoke a fear I’d kept close to my heart. “I’m afraid that even it won’t work.”

  “All of the tests say you’re fertile.”

  After opening an app, I handed Mr. Davies my phone. “I’ve done as you said, keeping track of my temperature upon waking.”

  The physician nodded. His eyes opened wide as he studied the chart.

  “This is today’s temperature?” he asked, pointing to the number.

  “Yes.”

  “Princess, I believe you’re ovulating.”

  Simply hearing the words had my pulse racing. He was still speaking, but I wasn’t listening. This was my way to remain. If I were to become pregnant, I couldn’t be sent away.

  “You haven’t, correct?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Davies. What was your question?”

  “Sexual relations?”

  Never had lying been easy for me. I was honest to a fault. That honesty was what often caused issues between the old Roman and me. Nevertheless, with my new Roman’s role—and possibly life—on the line, I shook my head. “No.”

  “I would like to do an exam.”

  “Why?”

  Mr. Davies lowered his voice. “Princess, if there is any chance you answered that question erroneously…” As I began to speak, he lifted his hand. “Please allow me to continue.”

  I nodded.

  “It would be best to report that the procedure was completed.”

  My jaw was set as I stared at the physician. In essence he was telling me that it would be better for me if I became pregnant from the procedure than an impostor. Of course, he couldn’t tell me he knew that my husband wasn’t Roman, not a Godfrey, not an heir. Then again, the last man wasn’t either.

  “I believe I would know if I’d had relations,” I said indignantly.

  “Yes, Princess.”

  I wanted to ask a hundred questions; however, all of them would lead Mr. Davies to the knowledge that I knew Roman wasn’t really Roman. “Roman said to wait a month.”

  The physician’s nostrils flared. “As your physician, I will respect your wishes, Princess. I’m not asking your husband or the king. I’m looking at you. If after five years you would miraculously conceive an heir during a time when you and your husband weren’t engaged in sexual activities, there would be questions.”

  “Maybe I conceived last month.”

  “If you hadn’t had an exam and a negative test, that story could be believable.”

  “Who would need to be convinced?” I asked. “The crown would be ecstatic with the news.” When he didn’t respond, I asked, “Do you have the sample?”

  “Yes. The sperm is frozen.”

  “Frozen,” I repeated, realizing that it made the most sense. Roman’s sperm. Regardless of where he was, this had been planned. “How long can sperm be frozen?”

  “Years, up to ten.”

  This was Roman’s sperm, the man I married.

  Mr. Davies’s words broke through the fog of my decision. “…the nurse will prep you. The sperm will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

  Wringing my hands, I thought about the outcome. If I became pregnant without the procedure, those privy to the knowledge would know that the new Roman and I had been intimate. If that happened, the child wouldn’t be an heir. Maintaining my role and helping the citizens of Molave rested on my ability to conceive.

  Specifically, to conceive an heir, not an impostor’s child.

  With the elation of the trip to Brynad forgotten, I squared my shoulders. “Yes.”

  “Princess?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Davies, for allowing me to make this decision. If I’m ready, if my body is ready, then yes, I’ll have the procedure. However, I’d like you to keep this information between us.”

  “Princess, the protocol…”

  “If we have good news to share, you can tell everyone who needs to know the truth. However, if it fails, I’d like the one more month my husband fought for.”

  Mr. Davies nodded. “As you wish. The nurse will be in soon and help you prepare.”

  My stomach twisted as the door closed, leaving me alone with my thoughts and fears. I knew sperm lived after sex. Roman and I hadn’t used protection, not last night, or the night before, or…

  Even with the procedure, I could already be with child.

  Laying my palm over my lower stomach, I imagined the possibility.

  “I hope you’re already there,” I whispered. “I’ll protect you. This is for you.”

  The clicking of the doorknob pulled me from my thoughts as the door opened and I met the gaze of a familiar woman wearing purple scrubs.

  “Princess Lucille, I’m Lizzy.” She smiled. “I’m here to help you prepare.”

  “Lizzy,” I said, “I hope you’re good at keeping secrets. I don’t want to disappoint the crown.”

  “Very good, Your Highness.”

  Lucille

  The last two days were a whirlwind of preparation for the diplomats’ state banquet. While my office had coordinated with the chief minister’s office on a public statement regarding the incident in Brynad, my current duties were no longer as an ambassador for the crown, but instead, that of being Queen Anne’s shadow.

  Watching.

  Learning.

  Helping where I could.

  Much of the work had already been done.

  It took a team approximately four weeks to unpack Archibald III’s royal service—plates and over 1500 pieces of cutlery. Each person would have six glasses: water, champagne toast, red and white wines, dessert wine, and port. Each place setting was placed exactly 45 centimeters from the next and every chair was positioned an equal distance from the table. During the banquet, each serving station would be manned by a page, footman, underbutler, and wine butler.

  All of the napkins were embroidered with the Godfrey crest and precisely folded by one person for continu
ity. The meal would consist of four courses that remained a secret until the night of the banquet.

  The painstaking precision Queen Anne put into the banquet was admirable.

  This was where the queen shone.

  Pomp and circumstance was a responsibility she took to heart and one that one day, she wanted me to take over. I admired her dedication, but honestly, planning dinners seemed unimportant compared to what could be accomplished outside of the palace with the people.

  Roman’s and my offices were coordinating a schedule for us to travel about Molave.

  I looked out over the large dining hall, imagining the seats occupied.

  The queen was speaking with Lord Frederick, the master of the household. He held most of the responsibility for the banquet; however, nothing was executed without the queen’s approval. The menu had been planned for nearly six months, yet recent food shortages and shipping affected Molave Palace, too.

  Queen Anne was upset about the last-minute changes.

  Walking to where the two were talking, I waited until they were done.

  After Lord Frederick walked toward one of the serving stations, Queen Anne turned to me and sighed. “I don’t understand how the chef wasn’t prepared.”

  Did she even know about the current problems?

  Instead of asking, I smiled. “No one knew the original menu. The change can be our little secret. While we’re eating duck, only you and I will know it should have been lamb.”

  She covered my hand with hers. “Lucille, you are always positive.” Small lines formed around her eyes and lips as she smiled. “Thank you for loving my son.”

  My ears buzzed with her compliment. During the extent of our marriage, she’d never before mentioned love.

  “I’m but the moon to his sun.”

  Queen Anne shook her head. “It isn’t always easy. I know that. However, I think Theo was right in calling Roman to Molave City after the Eurasia tour. Roman seems…” She paused. “Calmer.”

  “He has been less quick to anger of late,” I replied honestly.

  “He cares for you. I see it. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, but now I do.” She reached up to my cheek with the small bandage. “My husband thinks I don’t know what happens in this country, but I do. I saw the video of Roman saving you from the crowd of people.” Tears came to her eyes. “It will be our secret, but I want you to know, of all Roman’s accomplishments, watching him react as he did, well, I’m proud.”

  “You could tell him,” I suggested.

  “Oh no. If I did, Theo would learn my secret.”

  “That you are proud of your son?”

  “No, dear. That I’m more aware than he thinks.” She looked over the dining hall. “One day this will be your responsibility, Lucille. You’ve told me that you want to do more for Molave.” She nodded. “I’d like to think that when you do, because I believe in you, that you won’t forget the importance and symbolism of overseeing a state banquet. You probably think it’s boring.”

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  “Oh, it can be monotonous, but when this room is filled, every detail is worth it. Our honored guests tonight are men and women who work tirelessly for Molave. They deserve to be treated to the extravaganza of this ceremonial affair.”

  I remembered my awe at attending my first state banquet. There had been banquets given in Roman’s and my honor during our recent tour, a gesture toward us. This was part of royal life and the queen had rightfully reminded me of its significance.

  “I promise I will maintain this tradition. You’re right. It’s important for the state guests to experience the grandeur of the crown.”

  “Theo was right about you from the beginning.” She looked down at her watch. “We need to finish here because it takes much longer for me to be dressed and ready than it will you. Have you chosen your jewels for tonight?”

  Tiaras were required at these banquets. “Yes, Lady Buckingham has advised the royal jeweler.”

  “Diplomats will be present from over forty Molavian embassies. I’m sure you’ve studied the guest list.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Wonderful.” She stared down the long table and spotted the master of household. “I must speak to Lord Frederick about one last detail.”

  “Would you like me to join you?”

  “No, dear. Rest. Our smiles will be weary by the time Theo finishes his meal.”

  With a neck bow, I smiled. At dinners such as tonight’s, the meal was officially over when King Theodore was done eating. No one would leave before. That could mean the night could go on for much longer than our regular dining.

  Wearing my dressing gown, my thoughts were on what Queen Anne had said about Roman as Lady Buckingham styled my long hair in an updo, creating the perfect style for the tiara I’d chosen. It was beautiful and originally created for Queen Louise, King Theodore’s mother. It’s my personal favorite, not only for its appearance but because it is lighter than other family tiaras and more comfortable. The diamond-and-pearl earrings complemented the diamond-and-pearl necklace.

  Lady Buckingham looked down at her phone and back up, meeting my gaze in the mirror. “You and the prince have been summoned to the king’s office before the dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, Your Highness. It is unusual.”

  “Does the prince know?” I asked.

  Lady Buckingham nodded. “Lord Martin is the one who informed me.”

  I let out a long breath. In all my years, I’d never been summoned to his office before such a large event. Of course, my thoughts went to Roman, this Roman.

  “You look beautiful,” Lady Buckingham said as she took a step back. “Now, your dress.”

  I leaned closer to the mirror inspecting my cheek. “You’ve done a wonderful job covering what is left of the laceration.”

  “I would say that no one would know, but with the video, you may even be asked about it.”

  As my mistress zipped the back of my long cream-colored dress, the door to my parlor opened.

  “Your Highness,” we said in unison with a curtsy.

  Roman looked especially handsome in his white tie and tails. Beneath his coat he wore the golden sash and upon his jacket were his ribbons and medals from his time in the royal army. His dark eyes scanned me from my tiara to my toes, hidden beneath the length of the dress.

  “We’re wanted in Papa’s office.”

  I nodded. “I’m almost ready.”

  Instead of leaving my bedchamber, as his predecessor would have done, Roman walked to the large windows and waited while Lady Buckingham finished helping me. Once she was done, she bowed her head and smiled. “I will leave you two.”

  “Thank you,” I said. It wasn’t until the door closed that I turned to Roman. “What is this summons about?”

  He turned to me. “I was hoping you’d know.”

  “No, never have we been summoned before a banquet. There’s too much happening with guests arriving.”

  “Lord Martin was unsure as well.” He came close and reached for my hand. “You’re beautiful, Lucille. If I don’t get the chance to tell you that again, know that you are—inside and out.”

  “Roman, you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m a bit worried. What if my time is done?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not before a banquet. Unless…” My pulse thumped in my ears as I held tight to my husband’s hands.

  Clouds swirled in Roman’s dark eyes as he shrugged. “Unless Roman is back.”

  Roman

  The sheer look of terror in Lucille’s blue orbs made me want to take her from the palace and run. I wasn’t sure where we would be able to go, but ever since Lord Martin informed me of the summons, the two of us getting away from this madness was all I could think about.

  Cupping Lucille’s cheek, I feigned a smile. “You’ll be okay. You’re strong, my princess.”

  Leaning toward my touch, her eyelashes fluttered before she sighed. “No, it can’t be that he’s back. King Theo wouldn’t want me present.”

  “Unless he knows you know.”

  “I haven’t said a word.” Her hand covered her stomach. “Mr. Davies.”

  “What about Mr. Davies?”

  Lucille spun, the skirt of her dress pitching as she walked to the fireplace.

  “You told me he checked your cheek and said you were well.”