Page 13 of Royally F*cked

For the second time today, a man I love, and respect dearly accuses me of still being the rebel prince. Comparing me to a horny teenager and insinuating that I’m a cheater.

“It’s not like that,” I defend.

If he knew how I was really spending my time, he’d make a story out of it. To benefit The Crown. It would no longer be private, and it would expose those that never asked to be in the public eye. I can’t risk it. Instead, I have to take the insults that come with keeping my mouth shut.

“Because you’re not actually with Miss Charlotte, who by the way, will be suspended after this meeting. For going along with your ruse.”

“No!” I shout.

Suspending Charlie wouldn’t be fair and would severely damage her family’s already fragile financial situation. Something that my grandfather should be well aware of, especially considering the fact that Nan’s lady in waiting and close friend is Charlie’s mother.

“We’re finished discussing this, Julius. You’re to pick up Mistress Henrietta for tea at quarter past four. Do not be late.”

Like hell I am. “I will do no such thing. And you’re not going to fire Charlie either.”

He spins on his heels, and I can see the anger radiating off of him.

“I didn’t say I was firing her. I said she would be suspended until you pull your head out of your ass. It’s a conflict of interest. Besides, if she’s really involved with you, then she won’t need to worry about working. Her job is being your prospective bride.”

“Think of how that will affect Willow. Especially right now,” I try to plead.

Losing Charlie will devastate Willow. Fuck. I really fucked this up this time. My own selfishness is once again hurting those I love.

“You should have thought of that before you dipped your royal scepter where it doesn’t belong!”

The King is gone before I can even begin to tell him that I haven’t dipped my royal scepter anywhere lately.

Oscar enters the room and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “That went over well.”

“I need to find Charlie before the king does.”

“Your Royal Highness,” he sighs.

“Where’s Willow?”

“His Majesty is headed in her direction.”

“Great. And Charlie?”

“She took off running when she was dismissed.”

“Running to where?”

“Her quarters,” security informs me.

Eyes and ears. There are eyes and ears everywhere in this place.

“Thank you, Henry,” I nod and return my focus to Oscar. “Take me to her.”

“As you wish, Sir.”

He’s reluctant to do so, but Oscar leads me to employee quarters.

Every turn we take I realize how stupid it is that I grew up in this place for over 18 years and until today, never knew where our live-in staff resided. That includes Oscar’s family. His parents died in the same accident alongside my mother and father in Somalia.

If I am going to be king one day, I need to do a much better job of knowing everything.

“This is her, Sir.” Oscar nods to the closed door labeled E-3.

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