Page 1 of Royal Darling
1
Emma
Tomorrow I will marry a man I’ve met only twice.
The first time I was sixteen, shortly after our engagement, and the second time was this week to prepare for our wedding. This is normal for an arranged marriage between two far-flung kingdoms. I smooth a shaky hand through my hair. My nerves are misplaced. I’m Princess Emma Rourke of Villroy Island, fifth in line to the throne and firstborn daughter. I was raised to be proper, stoic, and to adhere strictly to royal protocol. I must rise to the occasion.
I am really quite fortunate in my parents’ choice of husband for me. Crown Prince Abdul Marjan of Kainei is only a year older than me at twenty-six, and he’s handsome with dark brown hair neatly parted to the side, chocolate brown eyes, and a bright white toothy smile. He was educated in England and has been a perfect gentleman during his visit this week. After our marriage, I will move to Kainei, a prosperous kingdom in Southeast Asia.
There is simply no reason for concern.
The wedding rehearsal in the palace chapel begins soon, but before I dress for the occasion, I decide to check in on my mother in her private suite. I think she would be pleased with my regal poise during this week of social functions. She hasn’t attended any of them, wanting to be alone in her grief. My father died three months ago. I miss my father, we all do. He was the king, and a large vibrant presence in my life before the cancer that ultimately took him. My mother abdicated the throne upon his death, not wanting to lead without him.
I take a deep breath, working for the perfect composure expected of me, before knocking on her door.
My mother’s maid, Joan, answers, bowing her head and dropping into a deep curtsy. “Your Highness.”
“Is my mother awake?”
Joan steps back. “Yes, ma’am, though she’s still in bed.”
I let out a breath. I had hoped my wedding would bring her out of her reclusive state. I wish there was something I could do to help her. I pass through the formal sitting room to her bedroom, where she’s propped up on pillows in a large antique mahogany bed in near darkness, the only light the glow of the TV mounted on the wall. The volume is so low, I’m not sure she can hear it. I turn on the small lamp on her nightstand and glance at the screen. It’s the reality show she used to watch with my father.
She slowly turns to look at me and murmurs, “Hello,” before turning back to the TV.
My heart sinks. She’s in her pale blue silk robe, her dark brown hair out of its usual neat chignon, loose over her shoulders as though she no longer cares about her appearance. She used to always be dressed in perfectly tailored pastel dresses, fully made up and accessorized. Her hazel eyes have bags under them; her skin is too pale. She hasn’t been outdoors, except for the funeral, in more than a year. She remained at my father’s side while he was bedridden. I have her same coloring, though my skin isn’t so pale. I enjoy my time outdoors on Villroy.
I bend to kiss her cheek. “Mother, my wedding rehearsal is tonight. Will you join us for dinner after?”
“I will be at the wedding,” she says, her voice rough, like she hasn’t spoken for a while.
I sit next to her on the bed and take her cool hand. “I’m leaving soon. I fear I’m ill prepared. I’m not yet fluent in Malay. Everything will be so different there.”
She doesn’t respond.
“I’m scared,” I admit softly.
She finally looks at me and gives my hand a firm squeeze. “You’re not scared. You’re nervous, which is to be expected. You must rise above.”
“Yes, Mother.” I know this. Why is it so difficult? I’ve spent my life rising to the high expectations of my mother and been rewarded with a close bond. I was the daughter she longed for after four sons. I was the daughter she was proud of. Now she feels so far away. “I wish you could’ve attended more of this week’s functions. Are you sure you won’t join us for dessert, maybe?”
She releases my hand and turns back to the TV. “I’m not ready to appear in public. I will be there tomorrow for the ceremony.”
My chest constricts, making it hard to breathe. I understand she’s grieving, but I can’t help but feel the loss of her in my life. I’d imagined this to be a joyous time, where she was happily joining me for all the pre-wedding preparations, the ultimate mother-daughter bonding time. Some small part of me had hoped she’d prepare me for what lies ahead, since she’s been through the same, traveling halfway around the world from a small island kingdom off the coast of Australia to Villroy Island, just off the coast of southwestern France, to marry my father, a man she’d never met before their wedding day.
When my parents broached the topic of an arranged marriage when I was sixteen, explaining that it was the traditional way, and asking if I’d agree to their choice of groom, I readily complied. It wasn’t mandatory; most of my older siblings had opted against it, except for the heir, Gabriel, who was held to a higher standard. The truth is, Iwanted to carry on tradition, and I was proud to know I would be helping Villroy with a useful alliance. Knowing my parents also had an arranged marriage that turned to love, I was content in my decision. But now that it’s here, shortly after my twenty-fifth birthday, as my parents required, I’m fighting to keep my composure. And, it pains me to admit it, but I am having doubts. I will be living with a stranger in a foreign land, one I have never visited. I will miss my family, my palace home, my island. Villroy Island is a part of me with its blue-green sea, rocky cliffs, and soft sand beaches. I’ve spent many a happy time on Villroy. My future happiness is uncertain.
My mother speaks so softly I have to lean close to catch the words. “You must turn to your husband now for your comfort.”
Tears sting my eyes. I understand she’s trying to help by pushing me toward my future husband, but it hurts. I bury all my worries, my fears, my doubts down deep. I will not be sharing them with Abdul. I must be brave. I stand and do a quick curtsy. “I will see you tomorrow.”
She inclines her head, but her gaze remains riveted on the TV.
I turn and rush from the room, heading upstairs to my own suite to dress. My lower lip trembles, and I bite it, willing myself to rise above. This will all be over soon. I will adjust to my new life. I am my mother’s daughter—strong, stoic, proud—and I will do what’s right for my kingdom. My marriage will forge an alliance that will greatly benefit Villroy’s faltering economy and ensure a stable future. I will honor my mother and make her proud by following through with my parents’ wishes.
My maid, Lina, is waiting, my clothes already laid out. She’s efficient and competent, so it takes little time until I’m ready for the wedding rehearsal. Or maybe I just feel like it’s quick because I secretly wish for a delay.
“You look beautiful, Your Highness,” she says. “That color suits you.”
