Page 9 of Royally F*cked

Chapter 4

Charlie

Thanks to an update from Oscar, I was already aware that the princess was on her way back to the palace.

What I wasn’t expecting was a grouchy Prince Julius when they came through the castle doors.

“Charlie don’t go anywhere,” he barks. “Oscar, keep an eye on Princess Willow for a moment and let the king know that I need to speak with him immediately, as well.”

I swallow hard. This does not sound good. A meeting with me, and a meeting with the king.

Only I could manage to get fired when I’m not even on the clock.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Oscar frantically types out a message on his phone then looks back to the prince. “Your Majesty’s detail said he’ll be with you in a moment. You can head to the sitting room.”

“Charlie, with me,” Prince Julius directs.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” I scurry behind him, careful not to go tumbling or twisting my ankle on the marble floor in these heels.

We make it to the sitting room and one of the many ushers opens the doors for us. Alone in the room with the prince, I notice how commanding he is. And how stressed he appears to be.

“Your Highness. . .”

“Jude,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry, I don’t. . .”

He spins around and looks at me. Really looks at me. From head to toe. I can’t read his mind but something about the way his eyes flicker and the way he licks his lips heats my skin. He almost looks like the big bad wolf.

Prince Julius blows out a breath and shakes his head. “You can call me Jude. And Willow would greatly appreciate it if you referred to her as Willow in private.”

“Sir, with all due respect. . .”

“You’ve been with the family for a long time. Your parents have been loyal members of the royal staff for your entire lifetime. I get it. Being on a first name basis with the prince and princess of Herefirth isn’t something that you’re used to. But it’s important to Willow. And it’s important to me.”

“Permission to speak freely?”

Prince Julius nods.

“You’re right about not being used to that. And I’m honestly not sure how I feel about it.”

“I understand. I’m not asking, nor telling you, to refer to the King as Julius. That may get you into some trouble,” he smirks. “But in an informal setting, you have my permission to speak to myself and Willow in a more personal manner.”

“This goes against everything I’ve been trained to do.” I don’t fully understand why he’s giving permission to be so casual with him.

Willow? I guess I can understand, even if I’d prefer not to. But Jude?

“It does. I get that. I can assure you that my grandfather does not refer to my grandmother as Her Royal Highness or Her Majesty or even Queen Lily when others aren’t around. And don’t tell anyone but behind closed doors, they’re just Papa and Nan. Though I suppose if you keep up with those rag magazines, they’d have you convinced otherwise.”

“I. . . I don’t read those,” I confess. In fact, my parents have always sworn that trash had no place anywhere in the castle. That doesn’t mean that I’m not well aware of all of Prince Julius’ late nights or who’s adorned his arm at every event.

Staff talks, and there is the internet.

“You’re a wise woman.” He pauses for a second then stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Charlie. Has my sister been acting out of sorts lately?”

“Out of sorts, how, Sir?” His question puzzles me. Willow, out of sorts?

“Short tempered. Angry. Unhappy.”

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