Page 30 of Royal Darling
“No. This guitar belongs with you.” She hands it back.
I let out an exaggerated sigh, keeping my tone light. I don’t want to squash her newfound joy in music, but one of us has to draw the line. “Please tell me you’re not going to be here at dawn again tomorrow. I need my sleep.”
She smiles cheekily. “If you don’t want me here, then lock your door.” She whirls and sails out of the room.
I sit there for a moment wondering why she looks so pleased with herself when it hits me—she’ll just pick the lock. I am never going to be able to keep her out of my bed. It’s going to be bloody torture to keep my hands to myself.
The twisted thing is how much I like it.
8
Emma
No one here but me and my borrowed guitar. And the guards, of course, but they’re very unobtrusive. Oliver is stationed outside and Viktor is upstairs. After lunch, Lucas and Jackson went out for a ride among the hills on two motorcycles kept in the garage here. Lucas didn’t want me on the back of a motorcycle for my own safety, and no amount of arguing on my part worked. Jackson looked like he found the whole thing amusing. It’s not funny in the least to have overprotective older brothers. It’s damn irritating. I smile to myself. I’m loosening up already, using more swear words in my head. It’s only my second day here and I’m actually starting to relax.
I strum the guitar for a while, trying to just “play with it” the way Jackson said. It’s tough to play willy-nilly with no sheet music in front of me. It doesn’t sound good, the notes not gelling. I pull up some YouTube videos on my phone and watch some beginner guitar lessons. Then I search for sheet music online. I find a few pieces I like and try them out. It’s slow going.
After I get tired of that, I explore the house. It’s odd, but this is the most alone I’ve been in my life. At home, there’s my family, servants, visitors, guards. At university, there were other students and Adam. I almost feel a little nervous, which is silly. There’s a security system, and the guards are here.
Upstairs are four bedrooms, each with their own en suite bathroom. The master bedroom, where I’m staying, has the largest bed with an upholstered bright geometric-patterned headboard done in blue and green. Rustic post and beams on the ceiling in here, along with a few chairs for reading by the floral-draped windows. The other three bedrooms are clearly for guests, all done in a neutral white and tan color palette. I wave to Viktor through the open doorway of his room when he looks up from his phone. He gives me a curt nod.
I head downstairs, trailing through the living room and dining room. There’s also a family room and kitchen, but I don’t feel like watching TV or eating. I put on my white wool coat, another of Silvia’s thoughtful items packed in my suitcase, and wander to the lake.
It’s so quiet I can hear the distant sound of birds, the lapping of water, the rustle of the breeze. I shiver as the wind picks up, and turn back to the house.
It’s too quiet in the house. So this is what total freedom feels like. Quiet and alone with my thoughts. It’s rather boring.
I find a stereo system in a living room cabinet and turn it on. Jazz. I fiddle with the controls. It’s some kind of streaming service offering different music styles. I’d normally stop on a mellow song, but I decide to search for rock. It lacks a good melody-harmony counterpart, but it has noise and energy. My nerves jangle as I hit upon just the right song, and I take that as a good sign. It’s counter to my usual tastes.
I push the coffee table to the side, clearing some space, and do some experimental twirls. I glance around. There’s only a high window on one wall of the living room and a large window on the other wall, overlooking grass and trees. Very private. I take the pins and band out of my usual neat chignon and run my fingers through my hair. Then I lift my hands in the air and swing my hair around. Woo! That felt good. I rock my hips experimentally, and then I let loose, dancing wildly all over the living room as the song builds to a crescendo. I jump on the sofa and play some air guitar, rocking my long hair back and forth to the beat.
The song ends and I lift my head. Another rocking song! I jump down and rock out some more. I’m pumped, exhilarated, moving like a woman possessed. I run my hands up and down my body. I am rocking these jeans. I found them in the dresser. They’re sexy and tight. I experiment with some growls.
And then I step on the coffee table and ROAR!
I shift and roar to the east! To the south! To the west!
Then I leap off the table and dance like a crazy woman. No one can stop me. I’m out of control!
“Everything all right, ma’am?” Viktor asks, appearing out of nowhere and sounding very concerned.
I straighten abruptly and smooth my hair. “Yes, thank you. I was just dancing.”
“It sounded like you were hurt, ma’am,” he says, completely serious.
I will myself not to blush. “Well, I’m not. Thank you for your concern.”
A ghost of a smile crosses his expression before he returns to his usual neutral expression, bows, and heads back upstairs.
Talk about killing the moment. I make a hasty retreat to my room for a shower.
I’m just finishing drying my hair when I hear a loud drumming sound right overhead. I go downstairs and look out the windows, going from room to room, trying to find the cause. Viktor is already downstairs, speaking in a low urgent voice through his wireless headset to Oliver outside. There it is, in the sky, a helicopter is coming in for a landing just behind the house. Who is it? Did the owners decide to stop by? Reporters? My heart slams into my chest at a horrifying thought. What if Abdul is here to kidnap me and take me back to his kingdom for a forced marriage? His monarchy has absolute power. He could’ve brought his guards with him. Anna said Abdul’s family was still at the palace demanding I fulfill my obligation. Maybe he got tired of waiting.
I briefly debate hiding, grabbing a knife to assist in the fight, or approaching with a confident smile. I compromise by slipping into the kitchen within reach of a weapon and wait, barely breathing.
There’s a knock at the door and then the doorbell chimes. Surely, if it was Abdul’s people, they would just break down the door to get to me.
I quietly approach the front foyer and peek around the corner at the door. Viktor goes to answer it. I spy Gabriel in profile through the high window of the door, talking to someone, probably Anna. Two guards stand at attention behind him, along with Oliver. I hang my head. It’s over. My week was only two days and now I must answer for my crimes. I won’t even get to say goodbye to Jackson. He’s still out with Lucas, and I don’t even have his number.
