Page 61 of Royal Darling
“I’m aware.”
I gulp. “Mother, I’m finally happy. I needed to step away from palace life to discover myself. I can sing. Jackson says I have real talent. We—”
“I cannot believe you brought such an inappropriate guest to our family holiday,” she says, her eyes flashing. “I want him gone. He’s been a terrible influence on you. This on top of your previous behavior embarrassing our family, why, I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
“I’m still me. A less rigidhappierme.”
She scowls. “I want my daughter back.”
I lose it. “And I want my mother back! You do nothing but hide in your room. It’s like I lost you and Father on the same day.”
Her lips press into a flat line. “So this is the cause of your rebellion. Me. Always blame the mother.” She leans forward. “I have doneeverythingfor you, given you every advantage, poured time and energy into shaping you into the woman you needed to be. Now you turn against me.”
The words come tumbling out. “You shaped me into a mold of yourself. But guess what? I’m not you. I’m finding out who I am. I like to dress in bold colors now, not pastels. I’m done hiding behind clothes, behind protocol. I like to sing; Iloveto sing. I’m learning guitar. I have talents I didn’t even know I had because I wasn’t open to anything. All the rigid rules and expectations stifled me. Now I’m free, and I’m sorry if you don’t like this Emma, but this is who I am from now on.”
Her lip curls. “This ishisinfluence. This man who doesn’t dress for service, who shows no respect to our family.”
I clench my jaw, ignoring the jab at Jackson. “This is me. Nobody else.”
She looks down her nose at me. “I know his type. Low class. Drugs, alcohol, women. You’re nothing but one of many in a long line of more to come.”
“That’s not true! Jackson isn’t like that.”
She shoos me away. “Then go live with him in his hovel.”
I try again, reaching for patience. “You don’t know him. He’s been good to me, and I’m sure he lives in a nice place.”
“Leave. He’s turned you into a person I no longer recognize.” She turns back to the window, dismissing me.
It’s like talking to a wall! I’m so furious I’m shaking with it. “I spoke to Abdul in Italy and gave him my humble apology, and what I got in return was a hard slap in the face and verbal abuse. This is the man you wanted me to marry.”
She turns to me, her voice softer now. “I heard about that. Emma, there was nothing in his background to indicate—”
“Obviously you don’t always know what’s best for me.” I shove my chair back so fast it nearly topples over. I right it and take my leave.
I stalk down the hallway. For God’s sake, I’m a grown woman who finally knows what she wants. Why can’t she see that I’m capable of changing on my own? I’m not so weak-willed as to be shaped by someone else’s influence. Yes, I’ve embraced Jackson’s music lessons and his taste in lingerie, but that doesn’t mean I’m not making my own choices. The music we create together reflects both of us. The rest is still me just a new empowered me. That’s the problem here. Mother can’t handle an empowered Emma. Well, too bad. I’m never going back to the old proper me, bowing to duty and obligation.
I go to my room and change out of my hideous dress, part of the old Emma wardrobe, and pull back on my red halter dress. I love it. It makes me feel sexy and more like a woman than a girl dressed for a part. I take out my chignon and brush my hair out. Then I refresh my makeup, liberal with the smoky eyeliner and red lipstick that matches my dress.
By the time I finish, I’ve gone from furious to sad. I don’t know how to fix things with Mother, and I’m truly worried about her. She hasn’t been the same since my father’s passing. I shake off the melancholy and head down to the private salon in search of Jackson. I need to grab that feeling I had in Italy with him. That empowered, brilliant kickass energy that made me feel alive.
I find him sitting on a leather sofa, my brothers gathered around him and on the sofa across from him. He’s a novelty to them, a rock star. To me, he’s my love, my gateway to passion and music and life. My eyes well unexpectedly, my throat nearly closed with all I feel for him.
His eyes collide with mine and he stands, crossing to me, standing close but not touching. I need his touch.
I hug him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. He bands one arm around my waist, his other hand sliding under my hair and cupping the back of my neck.
His voice is a rumble near my ear. “I take it that didn’t go so well.”
I lift my head, keeping my voice low. “She thinks I’m awful and that you’re a bad influence on me. She told me to go live in your hovel with you. She doesn’t understand.”
He drops his hold on me and gives me a sympathetic look. I check on my brothers. They’re ignoring us, laughing and joking around as usual.
“It’s okay,” I assure him. “I explained what’s going on with me and with us too. There’s nothing more I can do.”
“Emma…”
“What?”
