Page 39 of Royally F*cked

I give her hand a squeeze and assure her that I’ve got things under control. “Trust me on this.”

“Trying,” she squeaks.

Outside of my grandfather’s office, his guards attempt to deny Charlie’s entry, but I refuse to back down.

“If His Majesty wishes to meet with me this morning, then he will do so with my fiancée present as I requested when we scheduled this meeting.”

“I am afraid King Julius has requested that Miss Charlotte be removed from the premises,” one of the guards steps forward.

I quickly come between her and the guard while Ozzy steps up to box her in between us. “That will not be happening. You can tell the king that the only way Charlie leaves this palace is with me and that if I am forced to leave, I will go straight to Parliament and inform them that King Julius is denying my birth rights.”

Fuck. I hate playing dirty, but my grandfather is making it very difficult not to.

I don’t see the big fucking deal. Who the hell cares that Charlie is “the help”? She’s a fucking human and she’s no more or no less than me.

Okay that might be a lie.

Charlie is a far better person than I am.

The doors to my grandfather’s office finally open and he looks at me with a disgusted look on his face as he orders the guards to stand down. “Let them in,” he says and backs away so we can enter.

No sooner than the doors close, my grandfather begins his tirade.

“Is this how you get your way now? By publicly humiliating yourself and the monarchy as a whole? Did you really believe that after being caught entering and exiting a hotel and that releasing a statement, without my consent, would suddenly clear things up? I warned you yesterday that you needed to clean up your act. This is not the way to do it. Now you’ve lied to the entire kingdom about this ruse you’re playing. You will retract that statement at once!”

“I will do no such thing. Charlie has said yes to my proposal, and we will be getting married this summer. I’m asking you to accept that. I’m also here to tell you that your acceptance is not needed. There is no law that says you get to approve or disapprove of whom I choose to wed.”

“Since when do you think that you get to walk in here and issue ultimatums to me!” he roars, clearly bothered by the fact that I am not the least bit bothered by his thoughts on the matter. “I am the Goddamn King!”

“And I am the crown prince. The next rightful heir to the throne that you wish to step away from.”

“Stepping away, my ass. I’m doing no such thing. I mentioned wanting to retire. I don’t want to die on the throne, and I thought that you would step up. I believed that you were competent enough to take over the reins while I still have enough energy left in me to mentor you. Clearly, I was mistaken.”

“Because of Charlie.” I add, though it doesn’t need to be said. That much is obvious. If I had gone out with Mistress Henrietta last night and proposed to her today, my grandfather wouldn’t have batted an eye. “Because in your eyes, a family that has devoted their lives to us for three generations, is not worthy of what exactly?”

“Charlotte had her place in this household and that place was never meant to be as the Queen Consort.”

“Says you.”

“Damn right, says me. I am the fucking king!”

Never, in my nearly thirty-five years have I heard my grandfather flaunt his power. At least not with me and damn sure not like this.

“So you’ve said. And a good king, a good man. The man I thought you were? He would not be standing here now even remotely suggesting that I’m no longer fit for the throne because of who I’ve chosen to be my wife.”

“It’s not just because you’ve lowered your standards to sleeping with the help. It’s because this whole thing is nothing more than a game for you. You’re both lying to me. This engagement isn’t real. You’re so greedy that you’re willing to lie to take the throne. And you don’t care who you’re hurting in the process.”

“And who is it that you think I’m hurting?”

“Oh I don’t know, those children that you claimed to be with last night? You pulled a group of innocent children into your web of lies and cast a spotlight on the underprivileged youth in my Kingdom so that you could pretend to be on a planned outing with her.”

“Our kingdom, first of all. Secondly, you’re right. I did pull those children into a web of lies. But the lie they’ve been telling is a lie of omission. They’ve been pretending for years that I don’t visit with them several times a week. That I’m not the one sponsoring their sports teams when they’re able to try out. Or that I don’t sit at their bedsides in the hospital during treatment or wait for them in the waiting room during surgery. Those are the lies they’ve been telling.”

For the first time since we stepped inside his office, my grandfather pauses. His mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out.

“Admit it. You’re pissed that now Herefirth knows all about the orphaned children that you have chosen to ignore for years, because it did not fit your agenda.”

“I will admit no such thing because it’s simply not true. Much like the lies you claim about these visits.”

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