Page 1 of Royally F*cked

Chapter 1

Jude

The last thing I want to do today is meet with my grandfather, Julius Sr., at Rexford Palace. But when the King summons you, you damn well show up. Especially when you’re the crown prince.

The fact that I’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep is irrelevant. Duty calls.

“Sir,” my right-hand man Oscar knocks and waits on the other side of my closed bedroom door. No doubt he’s about to remind me of the time and hurry me along.

“You may enter,” I call out, tying the whimsical tie I’ve selected for today around my neck.

He takes one look at me and shakes his head. “Dinosaurs, to meet with the King.”

I shrug. “Of course. I have a lunch date with Willow after,” I tell him though he’s already aware of my lunch with the Princess Royal. The man knows almost everything.

As for Willow, my little sister is thirteen and one of her favorite hobbies is gifting me some of the most outrageous ties. In turn, I wear them proudly any time that I’m due to see her. Anything to make her smile.

“We need to leave soon Sir. Otherwise, you’ll be late.”

“The King can wait,” I deadpan, earning a very unprofessional snort from Oscar.

At just five years my senior, Oscar and I are friends - more like brothers or cousins at least. His father served as my father’s valet which meant we spent a lot of time together growing up.

“You and I both know, he cannot. And it will be my ass for not keeping you in line.”

“That’s bollocks and you know it.”

We’re not like other royals. My grandfather is the most laid-back person I know.

Sure, he commands respect—and deserves it—but the man has never fired someone without a damn good reason. Being a few minutes late would hardly do much more than ruffle his feathers and earn me a good-natured ribbing. That doesn’t mean I’m going to begin my day by failing to arrive on time for an official meeting with His Majesty when I’m already running on very little sleep.

I smooth out the collar of my shirt then reach for the dark gray suit jacket that’s hanging over my chair but Oscar’s one step ahead of me, holding open the garment for me to slip my arms inside. “I am ready if you are, Ozzy.”

“Jude,” he warns using my nickname in turn before we exit my bedroom.

“Ozzy, it’s too early for the formal rubbish. It’s bad enough you decided to help dress me this morning.”

“Helping you into your coat is hardly dressing you. Besides that, if one did not stay out until the wee hours of the morning, perhaps you could have afforded yourself the typical eight hours of sleep.”

“If one valued his friendship, perhaps you could have afforded me a cup of coffee with extra espresso and maybe even a bite to eat.”

From the Butler’s Kitchen, my housekeeper, Agnes, rushes out to greet us with a large travel mug for each of us. “Your favorite brew, Your Royal Highness. And yours as well…” she pauses for a moment, and I see a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Ozzy.”

Oscar rolls his eyes and chuckles. “You’ve been spending too much time around the Royal Rebel, Ms. Agnes. But thank you for thinking of me as well,” he takes the offered cup from her hands.

“Thank you, Agnes,” I tell her before taking my first sip. “Delicious as always.”

Agnes reaches into her apron and hands us both a warm breakfast sandwich wrapped in foil.

“You’re too good to me,” I say with a hug for the woman who began as my nanny many years ago.

“Your Royal Highness, we really must go now,” Oscar gives me a gentle push forward.

“Have a good day, Agnes,” I call out with a wave over my shoulder.

Oscar escorts me out of my flat and into the private elevator where we travel down to the waiting Rolls Royce. Within minutes, we are on our way to Rexford Palace.

“She likes you,” I jest, with an elbow Oscar’s side.

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