Page 51 of Royal Affair
My mother answered the door herself, beaming at the sight of me.
"James! Finally, the prodigal son returns," she said, pulling me into a hug, her familiar perfume enveloping me. You look thin. Haven't you been eating properly?"
"I'm fine, Mum," I said, returning her embrace before stepping into the foyer. The house smelled of roasting meat and her famous Yorkshire puddings, a scent that usually brought comfort but now only reminded me of Evangeline's cooking in Luxembourg.
"Everyone's in the garden having drinks. Your father's grilling Spencer about some policy matter." She hooked her arm through mine, guiding me towards the back of the house. "I want to hear all about your time with the princess. What was she like? Is she as beautiful in person as in photographs?"
Even more beautiful. More intelligent. More everything.
"She was a standard principal," I lied.
"Professional relationship, nothing more." Perhaps if I lie enough to other’s, I'll start believing it too.
My mother gave me a knowing look but, thankfully, didn't press further. We stepped into the garden, where the rest of the family had gathered on the stone patio. Spencer was deep in conversation with our father, both men gesturing animatedly as they discussed some political nuance. Andrew lounged in a chair next to a petite blonde who must have been Apolonia, whilstRupert wrapped his arm around Veronica's waist, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh.
Family. Normal life. This should have felt like coming home.
Instead, it felt like I was watching a play from the audience, disconnected from the scene before me.
"Uncle James!" My niece Maja spotted me first, running over to launch into my arms. I caught her automatically, settling her on my hip.
"Hey, troublemaker," I said, managing a small smile for her benefit. "Been keeping your dad in line?"
"Daddy says I'm his boss," she announced proudly.
"And don't you forget it!," Andrew called over, raising his glass in a mock toast.
The afternoon progressed with a chaotic rhythm unique to our family gatherings. We ate in the dining room, passing dishes around the massive oak table as multiple conversations flowed. Questions about my time in Bellavista came frequently, each one twisting the knife a little deeper. I deflected as best I could, giving vague answers about palace security protocols and the beauty of the countryside, all whilst my mind kept drifting back to Evangeline—wondering if she was safe, if Halliwell was proving as useless as I'd feared.
"So you're done with the royal assignment?" my father asked, passing me the gravy boat. "Seemed like it might have been a good long-term position for you."
"It was always temporary," I replied, avoiding his gaze. "Just covering for someone."
"Shame. Good connections in royal circles," he mused. "Though I suppose with Spencer and Andrew's profiles, we're not exactly hurting for connections."
After dinner, we moved to the sitting room. I positioned myself near the doorway, and old habits made me choose the spot with the best sight lines and quickest exit route. Maja sat onthe floor with a book whilst the adults settled into various chairs and sofas.
"Let's see what's going on in the world," my father said, reaching for the remote control and switching on the television.
Spencer and I both groaned simultaneously. "Dad, not the news," Spencer protested. "It's Sunday, family time."
"You two go help your mother in the kitchen then," Dad replied, unmoved. "Tomorrow's vote is important, and I want to see the coverage."
I glanced at my watch, calculating how soon I could make excuses and leave. My phone buzzed in my pocket—a message from Melissa asking why I hadn't responded to her text. I stepped into the hallway to compose a reply, apologising and cancelling our date. It wasn't fair to her to go through with it when my mind was miles away.
"Bro, you need to hear this," Rupert's voice cut through my thoughts. He appeared in the hallway, face unusually serious. "News from Bellavista."
My heart stuttered. "What about Bellavista?"
"They found a body in the river. Come on."
I followed him back to the sitting room, an icy dread settling in my stomach. The television showed a female reporter standing before a familiar backdrop—the Kasmack River that ran through Bellavista's capital city.
"Breaking news," the reporter was saying. "Late last night, the body of a man was discovered in the Kasmack River in the Sovereignty of Bellavista—a small Eastern European country in the region near Poland and Belarus."
My mind raced through possibilities. Was it a palace staff member? Someone I'd known during my time there? Or worse—had something happened to that incompetent Halliwell, leaving Evangeline unprotected?
The reporter continued, "Authorities have now identified the deceased as Viktor Kozlov, a Russian businessman with ties to several Eastern European investment firms."
