Page 4 of Royal Darling
It is my likeness and Abdul’s. We’re smiling, looking for all the world in love. A high-pitched ringing sounds in my ears, my entire body overheating as I stare at the porcelain couple. Why did they make us look like this? We should appear proud, dignified, regal. Not in love. It’s a distortion of reality. Alie. The decoration blurs in front of my eyes. Suddenly it looks like Abdul’s laughing at me. A mockery. Aninsult.
I lunge forward to grab the mocking Abdul, and the decoration goes flying, bouncing off the back of the table and onto the wooden floor.Oh no!I hurry around to the other side of the table and stare at the damage. My head broke off and there are several chips missing from my gown.
It’s a sign.
Marrying Abdul will be the end of me.
My head lifts. There’s a car waiting by the side of the chapel.
Adrenaline rushes through me, my mind racing right along with my pulse. I grab the end of my gown and run straight out the door, booking it through the courtyard and around the back of the chapel to FREEDOM!
2
I tear off my veil and toss it behind some shrubbery. I’m a fugitive now. The old Renault is waiting as promised. I grab the keys from under the mat, scramble in, start it, and take off. I’m outside myself again, watching the scene unfold, only this time my mind is sharp. I have limited time before anyone notices I’m missing, and I’m extremely recognizable as a runaway bride in my gown. They’ll be expecting me to go far away from the palace, so I will outmaneuver them and return to it through the servants’ entrance!
I make the short drive around the front of the palace and park in the small lot next to identical Renaults the servants use for errands, along with bicycles. I slip into the side door belowstairs and race through the servants’ hallway toward another set of stairs. Most of the servants will be busy assisting the guests and working in the kitchen. I look for young Christina’s room, a new maid that Lina told me had worn a wig to emulate Anna, the queen. The servants gave her such a ribbing she hadn’t worn it again. I poke my head in several rooms until I see it—a brown curly-haired wig on top of the dresser. I rush in, lock the door, and grab the servant’s uniform of white shirt and black trousers from her closet. I change and steal some socks, along with her sensible black shoes, which are a little tight but do the job. Then I grab the wig and pull it on over my sleek updo. I roll the gown into a tight ball, tuck it under my arm, and take off for my own room.
I am a secret palace spy on a covert mission, gliding along undetected, stealthily avoiding wandering servants, outsmarting them all.
As soon as I get to my room, I lock the door. My heart is pounding so hard I swear it’s going to burst through my chest. I drop the gown down the laundry chute. By the time it’s discovered downstairs in the pile of sheets and towels, I’ll be long gone. I shake my head at myself. They’ll notice I’m missing long before they worry about the gown. And the broken porcelain couple might be a clue too. Ha! So smart I’m making no sense. Sheer panic clouds my thinking, but one thing is clear, I must escape!
I rush to my closet and freeze, unsure what I want. A purse! I grab the closest one and race around the room to all my hiding spots, stuffing cash, jewelry, passport, and phone into it.
Several exhilarating minutes later, I steal a bike from the service lot and pedal down the winding palace road. Not too fast, not too slow. I’m a servant now on a palace errand. There’s noise in the distance, people shouting. The press? My family? Abdul’s family? I can’t linger to find out. I pedal faster. It’s a downhill road, and I pick up speed quickly. I grip the handlebars tight, my mind already a step ahead. I’ll go to the port, find an unoccupied boat, and hide. I just need some space to think. They’ll be expecting me to take the yacht off the island, so I shouldn’t be disturbed on a random boat.
As soon as I arrive at the port, I stash the bicycle behind an old warehouse used by the fishermen, and peek out at the dock, scanning the available boats. I give myself a few moments to catch my breath and clear my mind. The second I calm, guilt stabs at me. My God, what have I done? Poor Abdul will be so humiliated. His entire family is here. The press. I just did somethingso bad. Ihaveto hide. I can’t face him or anyone.
I swallow hard. The larger fishing vessels are out to sea. What’s left are the smaller white boats of the locals, bobbing in the water, and a houseboat with a large enclosed cabin and a purple flag of a seahorse. That flag tells me it’s probably a family’s houseboat, definitely friendly, and most importantly, perfect for hiding.
I dart out from behind the warehouse and head straight for the friendly houseboat. It’s anchored with a gangway, so it’s no trouble at all to board. I peek in through the windows of the cabin. It appears to be empty. Yes! It’s fate.
I try the cabin door. Locked. Luckily, I know what to do thanks to my ex. I pull a pin from my hair and pick the lock, letting myself in. The inside is messy. There’s a brown U-shaped sofa surrounding a square wooden table littered with a plate, cup, fork, crumpled napkin, and a laptop. The adjacent small galley kitchen has a large box of Cocoa Puffs cereal left out on the counter. Definitely a family here.
I do a quick tour of the rest of the cabin to be sure there’s no surprise visitors lurking. There’s another small seating area around front, which is empty. Past the kitchen is a bedroom with a double bed, dressers on either side of it. The bed is unmade, and there’s man clothes scattered about the floor. I’m sure the wife’s clothes are in the hamper, where they belong. There’s a tiny bathroom with just enough room for a toilet, a sink, and a shower nozzle hooked to the wall. A wonderfully empty refuge.
I heave a sigh of relief, wander back to the living room, and just stand there. What the hell did I just do? Running away? I might have to leave my old life behind forever. I’ve disgraced my family and dishonored my arrangement with Abdul. I clutch my shaking hands together.
A mostly full bottle of tequila and a shot glass on the kitchen counter catch my eye. I need to steady my nerves.
I help myself to a shot of tequila.Gah!It burns, it burns.Whoa. Hey, now.I’m suddenly relaxed. I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed in a week. Maybe ever. Probably didn’t help that I haven’t eaten today because of my frazzled nerves. Instead I downed three cups of chamomile tea in hopes of calming myself. An impossible feat and much too much to ask of tea.
It hits me with a shock—I am free. The heavy burden of my obligation is lifted. I hadn’t realized until this very moment how bad I felt before.
I lift my arms in a bold declaration. “Let’s get pissed, snockered, two sheets to the wind!” I’m not sure if I’m using the slang right, but it sounds wonderfully coarse. Like something the guards or servants would say when they thought none of us royals were within earshot.
A proper princess never indulges in hard liquor and absolutely never drinks to excess. I am no longer a proper princess. I’m shocked at how good it feels to be free.
I down another shot, enjoying the burn this time. I am definitely loving this relaxed feeling. I do a little relaxed walk. No more wooden legs. I smile for no reason at all. Boy, I’m hungry. I grab the box of Cocoa Puffs, open it up, and pour it directly in my mouth. I haven’t had these since university. So delicious! I pour some more into my mouth and chew heartily. I miss a few and little chocolate balls roll down my shirt, inside my shirt, and onto the floor. I extricate a few from my strapless bra (meant to go with my wedding gown) and chow down. What a wonderful invention—Cocoa Puffs. They should serve this at the palace. Suddenly my eyes sting, and I scrunch them tight, my mood diving to despair. I might never have breakfast at the palace again.
I do another shot and grip the counter, the room swaying. I need to figure out what’s next.
I can’t hide on this boat forever. I can’t travel easily either. The press will be all over me. The only escape is with a brand-new identity. I can’t use my passport. I need a fake ID like Anna’s friend Polly had when she was a princess-in-hiding. That’s me now. Though Polly is on probation, narrowly escaping jail time for identity theft.
I don’t want to go to jail!
My day catches up to me, all the tension of the previous week, the rush of adrenaline from my escape, the loss of what I left behind. It’s all too much. I stumble to the bedroom with its messy bed and curl up under the blankets. I lost Father; I feel like I lost Mother; I’m at sea, literally and figuratively. Everything is different at home with the change in leadership. I don’t know where I belong anymore. Not with Abdul, I know that much. Who am I outside the palace? I can’t just be a proper princess. There must be more to me.
My throat clogs with emotion, and the dam bursts. I cry for the loss of my father, for the loss of my mother’s love, for the loss of me and my old life. So. Much. Loss. Mercifully, the tequila kicks in, and I’m out like a light.
