Page 2 of Royal Player
“No, no. Nothing like that. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you, and I’d better do it now before I’m confined to a sickroom.” She takes another sip of water, and I wait on the edge of my seat. “After the baby is born, we’re to return home, and I’m to accompany you on a formal courtship with Peter for a period of six weeks, and then the engagement will be official. Your parents want the wedding soon after that.”
My gut knots. I knew this was coming, yet it still agitates me. As if the sleazy blackmail wasn’t enough to make me despise him, Peter is twenty years my elder and has promised my parents to take a firm hand with me. My parents laughingly agreed that I was a handful in need of structure, but I saw it as a big red flag. He’s not violent. He means he wants to run a tight ship and he’s the captain. This queen will not bow to her king. I let out a breath. I don’t want to do battle with my husband. I’ve got enough on my plate with the demands of the kingdom.
I manage a nod at Marge before looking away. She’s my chaperone atalltimes because the princess must be a virgin upon marriage. I’m a modern twenty-three-year-old woman expected to comply with rules more suited to medieval times. I abided by the restriction because I feared jeopardizing my place in the kingdom. (The royal doctor examines me before the wedding ceremony. I know.Blech.) This is why I’ve never gotten close to a man. I could’ve worked around Marge if I cared enough. I just never met a man tempting enough to risk a kingdom.
Do I long for love? Am I sexually frustrated? Yes and hell yes! But I know royals shouldn’t have big dreams. Duty to kingdom must always come before self. That rules out personal and professional aspirations. So what if I want to put my economics degree and MBA to use in the business world? Even ruling independently would be running a business of sorts with our tourism industry. But that’s not the way things work on Beaumont.
And I would sooner exile myself from Beaumont forever than hand the crown to my cousin simply because he’s a man. My hands close into fists. I’ve always been headstrong, always chafed at the restrictions placed on me. It requires great strength to do one’s duty.
“Polly, your parents want what’s best for you.” Only Marge knows I’m not as enthusiastic about the marriage as I let others believe. She doesn’t know why, though. She probably assumes it’s because he’s a bald fortysomething man with a paunch. I don’t need a handsome man. I need anhonorableman, a future king.
I fold my hands in my lap. “I know they do.” I attempt a smile. “That’s why they sent me you.”
She blinks rapidly and turns away. “Nonsense.” Her voice is choked with emotion.
I grew on her. It took a while due to my previous exuberant childhood adventures. I used to tally every time she threw her hands up, declaring, “I swear you’ll be the death of me!” I stopped counting at one hundred fifty out of boredom with the task. She has a soft spot for me, and I for her.
I point out the window. “We’re almost there. I’m going out for a better view.”
She shoos me away, pulling a tissue from her short-sleeved blouse and dabbing at her eyes.
I return to the deck and breathe deep. Villroy is just off the coast of southwestern France, a more temperate climate than I’m used to. The island is stunning with dramatic rocky cliffs, inlets of beach, and a gradual hill to the top where the palace is perched like something out of a fairy-tale picture book—sandstone with multiple turrets and spires. My own palace is light gray stone and rather flat. At least we have one fanciful round turret perched near the sea, and the grounds are beautiful with a garden courtyard, pools, and fountains. I’m truly lucky to live there.
Still, I’m very glad for this reprieve on Villroy. Of course to see Anna, but also for some desperately needed breathing room. I know what’s expected of me. I know what’s at stake. Yet I’m still going to attempt the impossible—gaining the throne on my terms while keeping my family and my kingdom safe. Who better to tackle the impossible than the person who’s been labeled impossible? It’s like two impossibles make a possible. My math may be off, but I dare to hope.
Chapter Two
Oscar
I’m the good-looking one. If you need to pick me out of the middle of the Rourke clan, the fourth-born son, that’s how you do it. Prince Oscar is the good-looking one. That’s not arrogance or vanity on my part. The press has deemed it so; even my brothers comment on it. Some combination of genes has given me the perfect symmetry of features that draws attention. Can I help it if I’ve got the same thick dark brown hair, aquamarine eyes, sharp cheekbones, and square jaw as my brothers, only better? I let my older brother Phillip take the spotlight as the royal hottie because I am the soul of discretion. I take great pride in my family name and would never despoil it. Doesn’t mean I don’t have fun.
Does it bother me that nothing is expected of the fourth-born son other than to flash my devastatingly handsome smile for the press? Maybe.
Would I like to be needed even just by one person who sees me as the key to something important? Yes.
And I was for the three years I played pro football for France. I was my father’s pride, the living embodiment of his dream, and I knew what it was like to have someone rooting for me to achieve greatness. He also played for France, briefly, before he had to withdraw to take over as king. Not only did I feel great from the bond with my father and playing, of course, but also because I was able to do great things with the money I earned through my own hard work, funding soccer clubs for children in disadvantaged areas all over the world.
Unfortunately, two years ago, I blew out my knee, had surgery, and no amount of rehab could get me back to playing at the pro level. My career was cut short, and I was forced to retire at twenty-five. I get around fine, no limp or severe pain, just a twinge now and then. My father mourned the loss of football right along with me. He died a year ago, and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish we could’ve kept that bond over football. I think it would’ve brought him a small amount of joy to watch me play during his struggle with cancer.
I had my moment in the spotlight once. I cannot ask for more.
I cross to the burgundy leather sofa and take a seat next to my younger brother, Adrian. He jerks his chin at me. Neither of us have ever been vital to the kingdom. Adrian is last-born, and he doesn’t even have the famous Rourke aquamarine eyes that match the sea here. My father always said they’re an indicator of the rightful rulers. Adrian’s eyes are hazel. He’s so low-key I don’t think his place in the royal hierarchy bothers him.
We’re in the private salon waiting to meet our guest of honor, Princess Mary “Polly” Lyon, from the Beaumont Islands in the Caribbean. She’s a distant cousin of my sister-in-law, Anna. I’ve never met Polly since she’s been on probation for identity theft and not allowed to leave Florida in the US. A princess committing such a seedy crime must’ve had a very good reason, and I really want to know more. She and Anna met for the first time during Polly’s escape to the US, a long, mostly amusing story, which ended with Anna arriving here in Polly’s stead and ultimately winning my oldest brother, Gabriel, as her groom in an outrageous bridal competition. Anna was a commoner impersonating a princess and married a future king. Never a dull moment around here.
Gabriel, Anna, and my mother are talking in the corner—the king, the queen, and the former queen. My mother stepped down as queen upon my father’s death. They’re all vital to the kingdom.
Just then the door opens and all eyes turn to it. My family has never met Polly, but her reputation precedes her.
Not Polly. It’s my older brother Lucas with his girlfriend, Alice. She’s a romance author, a sexy voluptuous blonde who wears black nerdy librarian glasses, and has an introverted, sweet personality. In contrast to my brother…
“We’re here!” he booms with a smile that flashes white against his dark beard. “Let the party begin!”
I grin and go to greet him, Adrian following. “He always says that,” Adrian mutters under his breath. He’s much more reserved, which is what makes him a great poker player.
I chuckle. “He’s earned his party rep.” After I lost football, I joined Lucas on the party circuit and we had a blast.
I take Alice’s hand, kissing the back of it, and watch the pink flood her cheeks. “I heard you’ll be staying at the palace, and we’re glad to have you.”
