Page 8 of Royal Charmer
“I don’t plan to marry at all.”
“You never know,” she says in a singsong voice.
“I know.”
Gabriel crosses his arms. “This is just another reason Anna and I should retain control. If we go to a bank, our stability as a couple and as leaders of the kingdom will demonstrate our long-term commitment to the business.”
I lift my palms. “So I guess I’m destined to be in the background.”
“We appreciate you,” Anna says.
“Yes, of course,” Gabriel says. “When you’re present and focused, you’re a great help.”
The backhanded compliment rankles. I bow my head to my king and queen. “I’ll see you later. I’m heading over to the port to check on the tests.” Small-scale testing for the cosmetics line is underway there. I leave before I can snap at them.
“Thanks, Lucas!” Anna calls as I walk away. “We appreciate you!”
It’s the second time she’s said so within the space of a few minutes, which only goes to show she knows how unappreciated I feel.
By the time I return to the palace, I realize I’ve been backed into a corner. If I give up my role here and leave the project to Gabriel and Anna, I’ve only proven Gabriel’s point that I’m not committed to the business. If I stay, I’ll be constantly thwarted by the lack of confidence and authority invested in me. How do I prove I’m committed to life here on Villroy? Maybe if I’m the one who brings in the money. But I don’t even have the authority to sign off on a loan. Back to the corner for me.
If I were truly as unattached to Villroy as Gabriel says, I would’ve stayed with Nora. It’s why we broke up. She wanted me to move around with her from movie location to location indefinitely, and after a few months in Canada and then California with her, I longed for home. Sure, I travel quite a bit, but Villroy is in my blood and I would never abandon her completely. Not for anyone. Maybe what Nora and I had was never really love. Sure, the sex was fantastic, but half the time we fought like cats and dogs. I always thought the fighting proved our love, there was such an intensity of feeling. Maybe I don’t even know what love is.
Who the hell cares? I’m happy. I have everything I need, except my brother’s faith in my abilities to run this project.
And that’s the only thing I truly want.
Chapter Four
Alice
I have two activities scheduled for tomorrow—a morning tour of the palace with the nice maid Christina, who helped me find my way earlier, and an afternoon tea with the king and queen in the parlor. After that, there are options for the rest of my two-week stay. I can arrange to have the royal yacht take me to France, or stay here and enjoy a picnic on the beach, or request a driver or a bicycle for touring the island. It’s a very low-key honeymoon trip, which I had anticipated spending mostly in bed and then later decided in a fit of wild optimism I’d spend mostly writing. The likelihood of the latter is rapidly approaching zero.
I press a hand to my growling stomach. It’s dinnertime, and I have a candlelit dinner in the formal dining room reserved for my first night on the island. The formal dining room is only used for special royal occasions. All part of the package—one dinner in the formal dining room, one audience with the king and queen. I consider taking dinner in my room due to the solo deal.No. You’re a badass, remember?Staying in my room defeats the purpose of coming here. This is myI can enjoy myself without you just finetrip. While I’m not exactly looking forward to the reminder of my nonromantic solo honeymoon at a candlelit dinner, I do have to eat. Okay, that settles it.
I pull out my phone and text Lucas in another fit of wild optimism. Why not? He gave me his number. I don’t know why. Maybe he’s bored. Maybe he pities me in my solo-honeymoon state. I don’t care. He reached out to me in a time of distress, and now I will reach out to him in a time of awkwardness.
Hi. It’s Alice. Would you like to burn stuff, perform an exorcism, or join me for dinner?
Please choose two or more of the above.
Lucas did encourage me to burn stuff as a sort of exorcism of Mason’s evil spirit. I stare at the screen for a moment, wondering if that was too forward. He’s probably busy with royal duties, or maybe he’s already jetted off the island to meet up with one of his many gorgeous girlfriends. I’m sure he’s never wanting for company. Screw it. I’m going to my candlelit dinner and using it as book research. After all, there was plenty of candlelight back in Regency times, and I haven’t personally experienced it very often. I call down to the servants’ quarters to let them know I’ll be down shortly for dinner.
Then I dress as befitting a special occasion. I did shop for my honeymoon, including sexy island-appropriate clothes, dressy outfits, and lingerie. I should burn the lingerie. I feel nearly evil at the thought of burning such pretty things. In any case, shopping for the honeymoon was just one of the many wedding things that distracted me from writing. I’d like to say I had my suspicions about Riley and Mason and that was what kept me from writing, but I was clueless until he told me. To be fair to my keen powers of observation and general intelligence, I trusted them both and there were no obvious signs. I later found out, through Mason’s oh-so-helpful detailed explanation of how he realized he wastrulyin love with her, that they spent mornings together before she had to go to work (she worked a later shift due to being a chef), and late at night when he claimed to be at faculty events. They also spent a few weekends together when I thought he was visiting his brother in Wyoming. Whatever!
I. Will. Enjoy. Myself.
Even if I die a little inside with each reminder.
Here I go, dressing for the occasion in my new light blue maxi dress. Someone once told me this shade of blue brings out the blue in my eyes. I adjust the cute little off-the-shoulder sleeves and tie the belt loosely at the waist. There’s a deep V in the front of the dress, showing off my ample cleavage, and a dip in the back as well. Sexy and romantic. I take a seat at the vanity to slip on metallic gold gladiator sandals with block heels that give me another inch in height. My shoulder-length hair takes little time since I typically wear my hair down and it’s straight as a stick. I spend more time on my makeup just for the hell of it. Eyeliner, mascara, blush, and a rosy red lipstick. Then I slip my glasses on, the lenses magnifying my made-up eyes. I never did get the hang of contacts.
At the appointed time, Christina returns to escort me to the formal dining room. I can’t help but wonder where the actual royals are dining tonight. I doubt they’re all dying to eat with a paying guest.
Once there, Christina opens the dining room door for me. “Here it is, ma’am. Enjoy your meal.”
I peek into the empty candlelit room at a long gleaming dark wood table with a lonely place set for one wa-a-ay down near the end.Go on, you need to eat. Be the badass.
“Thank you,” I tell her and step inside.
