Page 10 of Royally F*cked

“Oh. Uhm. Well, I mean. She is a teenager. According to the child development course I took last semester, it's fairly typical to deal with teenage angst.”

“It’s more than that, I think. This wanting you to call her Willow, is that new?”

I nod. “Fairly. Yes, Sir.”

“And has she mentioned anything to you about wanting to be, as she put it, ‘a normal person’?”

I can see the concern written on his face and begin wracking my brain for any truly unusual behavior from the princess.

“No. Not that I can recall.”

“Before the disagreement earlier, what were you two discussing?” he questions.

Suddenly, I’m back to feeling like I’m in front of the firing squad and wondering where exactly I went wrong. Did I do something? Or more importantly did Willow confide in Julius about something I may have missed?

“Well, Princess Willow spent a little bit of time after breakfast playing a game on her tablet. Then she mentioned your birthday and asked if I could take her into town next week. And she asked if we could make a whole day out of it. The princess requested a visit to the spa and said she’d love to make it a girl’s day.”

“And then she got upset because you wouldn’t call her just Willow?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Very well. I’d like you to stay while I speak to my grandfather. I think what I need to say to him is important for you as well.”

“Sir. . .”

“Jude,” he corrects.

“Jude.”

“Better,” he smirks, coiling my insides even tighter. “Go on.”

“Am I in some kind of trouble?” I find the courage to ask.

“Absolutely not. As far as I know, you’re doing your job well. It’s Willow that I’m concerned about.”

Before he can go into greater detail King Julius enters the room.

“Your Majesty.” Jude and I both address him at the same time.

“As you were,” the king pops the button on his dress jacket and takes a seat. “Julius. What is it that was so urgent that you needed to see me right away? Is there an issue with Miss Charlotte that I need to be aware of?”

The tone of King Julius’ voice is all I need to know that he’s not pleased that I’m present right now. While he’s never been anything but kind in my brief interactions with him, King Julius is intimidating and very much about rules and tradition. Unlike his wife, The Queen, who comes off much more nurturing and motherly.

“There’s no issue with Charlie,” Jude immediately defends me.

“Well, both of you have a seat and tell me that the hell’s going on then.”

The room we’re in has two sofas, one on each side of a thirteenth century coffee table, as well as two wingback chairs —one of which is occupied by the king. I choose a seat on the sofa opposite of where Jude is standing. He once again catches me by surprise when he joins me, sitting to my left.

This close, I can pick up on the scent of his cologne. The woodsy freshness is subtle yet intoxicating in a good way.

Or a very bad way, considering he’s the prince.

“I have some concerns about Willow. Our lunch today was interesting to say the least,” Jude immediately begins. “I’ve already asked Charlie if she’s noticed anything different.”

“And have you?” the King asks me.

“Outside of asking about a spa day this coming week and wanting to do some shopping, not so much, Sir.”

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