Page 6 of Regally Binding

Chapter Three

Liss’s mouth gaped as she glanced around the morning room for the umpteenth time. Opulence glittered from the chandeliers that seemed to drip light delicately into the space to the baroque-style chairs with gold edges and red velvet cushions. Liss teetered on the sofa’s edge with quaking limbs as she desperately tried to keep her boots raised millimetres off the antique carpet.

“It was a gift from a Danish count,” King Archibald announced, his voice strained as he talked about the sofa. When he gave Liss a brief tour of the morning room, he moved gingerly, and his finger quivered when he pointed out art pieces. Liss recalled what he’d said about nearing death in the video. “The wood was handcrafted, and the feet are gold. It took many men to lift it when it first arrived.”

“Be careful not to mark it. It’s priceless,” the beady-eyed blonde fiancée of the prince muttered. She held her swanny neck high, emphasising her string of pearls and immaculate chignon without a strand out of place.

“Marianne,” the King’s son, Alex, who sat poker straight beside her, uttered with a stiff smile. “These are our guests.”

Liss quickly pulled on her hair to flatten the fuzz, but it was pointless. She bet she looked like frizzy candyfloss compared to Miss Upper-Class Universe. Marianne wore a cornflour blue suit that brought out the colour of her eyes, and she sat with her legs next to each other and her feet tucked into the side. She was a cross between a genuine princess and Jackie O, or would have been if she’d unpursed her lips for a second.

“Not just our guests, Son,” the King said with a beaming face aimed at Liss. He occasionally glanced softly at her grandma but nothing more. It was difficult to believe they were first loves now reunited. Archibald’s eyes were the same almond shape as her mum’s. Their hazel hue matched her own, too. “Felicity is my granddaughter.”

Marianne clasped her hands tightly.

“We can’t say that 100%. Felicity needs to agree to a DNA test first,” Prince Alexander said. His politeness didn’t disguise his judgement. He squinted his eyes into little black peas every time he spoke to her, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the dainty china cup he sipped out of. Now, they were getting to the real reason for dragging her to Clarbon House. “Which she has no reason to avoid.”

The King started his official family late, marrying Queen Beatrice at thirty-seven. Sadly, she died three years later in childbirth. Liss and Prince Alexander were both twenty-four. Liss spun the ring on her finger as she stared at him.

“She is the King’s granddaughter. There is no doubt about her,” Nana said, nodding profusely. Her greying hairstyle was pure hairspray. It moved perfectly in time with her head. When did everyone else get the memo about having perfect hair?

“A DNA test will tell us for sure,” Marianne sneered.

Liss winced from the ache in her thighs. She’d kept her boots off the perfect carpet for the last fifteen minutes of faux niceties, fearing muddying their pristine rug.

Liss spun her ring quicker, remembering Bear’s hands around her wrists. It was as if his fingers were still pressed against her skin. The fantasy of his hands pinning her wrists above her head as he slid a leg between her ankles to widen her stance continued on a loop as Marianne made accusations. She had to be fantasising to take her anxious brain out of the situation.

She busied herself by glancing at the carpet, using the opportunity to stare at Bear out of the corner of her eye. He stood straight and still at the edge of the room with his hands by his sides. They were enormous hands. It was as if they were still pressing against her pulse points. The weird lust that she’d never experienced before brought on by the day’s trauma was intense. Liss held her breath, and her skin tingled as he stared straight ahead. Occasionally, his gaze flickered around the room as if he were reviewing every risk. Liss took deep breaths to distract herself from her fascination with Bear. He’d made it clear in the car that she was insignificant or, worse, a joke.

And yet, I might be a bloody princess.

“You look uncomfortable, Felicity, and you haven’t touched your tea,” Prince Alexander commented. Small lines appeared on his forehead as he studied her over his teacup. She spun her ring faster. How would he react if she told him she was terrified she’d break the cup or find another way to embarrass herself? But there was something else that was making her flick her finger to spin her ring faster. She didn’t trust any of them. The silver ring glinted under the chandeliers as it turned. It was nearly hypnotic.

All eyes stared at her with suspicion, confusion, and judgement as she continued to flick her finger like it was a lighter that refused to light. These strangers weren’t interested in learning about her, and she wasn’t sharing. She was like a spore on a petri dish. She wanted to be back at the bar, serving pints and laughing with drunk Greg as he fed treats to Joyce.

The scent of lilies from the vases of bouquets around the room nearly made her gag. The silver ring was hotter each time she flicked it, climbing to the tip of her finger as she skimmed it. But she couldn’t stop. It was the only thing grounding her in the unfamiliar situation. It was on the edge of her finger as Prince Alexander suddenly caught her attention with a snide smile.

“Surely you’re not scared of a little DNA test,” he said with an arched eyebrow.

Liss fumbled for words as her ring spun off her finger and rolled across the perfectly varnished floor. As one, the group watched as it sped to Bear before hitting his foot and coming to a halt.

Bear’s gaze burnt into Liss as he bent to pick it up and walked over to her. “Princess, I think you dropped something,” he said as he neared her. As he helped her put it on, he whispered in her ear, “Now calm down. You’re as important as these people, if not more. Don’t let them railroad you. Pretend you’re at your pub and they’re no more than rude punters.” He placed a hand on her knee and pushed down, forcing her dirty boots onto the carpet. Embers lit in her belly at the touch. “And for fucks sake, put your feet down. Even your thighs can’t last this long.”

Bear strode back across the room before resuming his position at the wall. It was as if nothing had happened, but she remembered what he’d said. Need turned the embers to fire as she ground her feet into the carpet, and her confidence appeared like a cheeky gremlin on her shoulder.

“Of course I’m not scared of a DNA test,” she said witheringly to Alexander. “But I also didn’t ask to be part of this bloody circus, so we’ll do it on my terms.”

“Felicity,” Nana scolded. “You can’t swear in front of the royal family.”

Bear’s words gave her the confidence she needed as the day’s frenzy collided with her fury at the judgement the family were tarnishing her with. “Nana, don’t start that bullshit. You have the mouth of a Peaky Blinder on a bender. Apparently, I’m a royal now if I accept it and don’t renounce my place or whatever the phrase is.”

Liss settled back on the sofa, confident that its embroidered material hadn’t been soiled by someone like her before.

“Renounce your—why would you renounce your title?” Alexander stuttered. “If we have conclusive proof that you’re the King’s granddaughter, it will transform your life.”

“She is the King’s granddaughter.” Nana’s cup rocked on its saucer.

“As I said, if she is, her life will be glorious.” Prince Alexander raised his voice. “She won’t be slumming it anymore. Instead, you will live a life of luxury. You will—”

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