Page 3 of Royal Secret

Speaking of which… that includes family dinners.

Not that I hate family dinners. It’s more that they have become increasingly tense over the years as we inch closer to my father’s inevitable retirement. He has it well known that he plans to step aside within the next five years, and that has me and my siblings chomping at the bit.

It doesn’t take long to arrive at the palace — no more than fifteen minutes — and the guards open the gates at the sight of my approach.

The scent of roses fills the air, spring in full bloom. It’s another gorgeous afternoon in Bergovia, and my mind drifts to thoughts of sailing and lazing in the sun.

Wouldn’t it be nice if I had a beautiful woman to join me?

I catch my thoughts before they go any further. There is no point in fantasizing about romance, something that I haven’t entertained in several years. My responsibilities as both a prince and the head of national security keep me more than busy. OnceI become king, then I can think about building my family life. Until then I must keep my eye squarely on the prize.

An attendant takes my car keys from me with a bow, and I smooth my suit jacket as I walk up the front steps. It’s more bows and “Good evening, Your Highness,” from every angle. It’s the story of my life — one that I should feel comfortable with by now, and yet it puts me oddly on edge.

These formalities are not what being a royal should truly be about. It should be about sacrifice, responsibility, dedication to your country. When I was a boy, I was enamored with stories of kings and queens who would ride into battle at the head of their armies, people who put their necks on the line in order to care for their land.

That’s the kind of ruler I wish to be, and while Bergovia has not participated in a war for many decades, I hope that our people see me as someone who is driven by love for our country above all else.

I weave my way through the palace, each step familiar even though the halls are vast and winding. I grew up here; learned to walk in these halls. Even though I still have quarters here, I only spend part of my time in them. Even someone as devoted as me needs their time away, and that’s when my apartment in the city comes into play.

“Oh!” Someone lets out a little gasp as I round a corner, and I stop short just before running into my sister.

Christina smooths her blouse, as if I had rumpled it just from getting close. “Where did you come from?” she asks, annoyance filling her voice.

I suck in a long breath and consider how I want to respond. The two of us were close as kids and teens, but the subsequent years have put some distance between us. It’s no secret that we both want the crown — as does our younger brother Teddy — and that’s driven a bit of a wedge between us.

It’s not that I hold anything against her. Absolutely not. It’s merely that our conflicting interests make things awkward.

“I came from work,” I say, choosing to keep it simple. “And now I’m headed to dinner.”

Her lips purse the slightest bit, and I can tell that she’d been hoping to achieve the same goal as me: to be the first of the royal offspring to dinner, in order to impress our parents with our punctuality.

But she quickly schools her features into pleasantry. “Then we will walk together.”

The doors to the family dining hall are propped open, staff posted in corners waiting to be summoned. My mother and father are already at the table — but so are my brothers, Oliver and Teddy.

Teddy smirks at Christina and I, clearly wise to our plan.

“Good evening, Mother and Father,” I say, ignoring my brother.

My mother stands to kiss Christina and me on the cheeks. “Good evening. How were your days?”

“Wonderful.” Christina takes the seat across from her, immediately launching into a story about how she has extended her nonprofit’s reach to another school in Afghanistan that needs learning supplies.

It’s virtue signaling at the finest, and I catch Teddy rolling his eyes.

My father’s gaze is heavy on me, and it feels as if he’s probing, trying to ask a question without putting it into words.

“And you, Jakob?” he finally asks. “How was your day?”

“Wonderful.” I sit a little taller as the staff serves the first course. “Very productive. The quarterly reports came in and?—”

“Is there even much to do there?” Teddy cuts in. “Bergovia hasn’t had any real security threats since before we were born.”

I frown at him. “And why do you think that is? It’s not accidental, I can assure you. It’s due to the work of everyone at the security department.”

Oliver smirks at Teddy. “Just because you don’t have anything to share, doesn’t mean you need to undermine Jakob.”

Teddy’s face turns beet red, but before he can retort, our mother delicately clears her throat. It’s the softest sound, but enough to make us all pay attention. “The rose show is coming up. I do hope everyone will be in attendance.”

---