Page 4 of Royally Theirs (Risqué Royals)

“Expectations to abandon your family?”

“Charlotte,” her voice becomes sharp, and I sit up straight as if I am being chastised. “Hedid notabandon us. He was doing his duty to the families in Cambridge. Your family.”

Staring at her for a moment, I take a deep breath. Ma and Gran always talked about our royal ties when I was growing up. How Gran and Opa, my grandfather, attended lavish events and glitzy balls. They loved telling the story of their grand wedding that all the royals attended.

“Why do we need to talk about them now? What is this all about?”

“It never mattered that we had not met. I was still excited to be called on for such a prestigious request. Anyone else could have been chosen. I felt so special they chose me.”

“What is special about being forced to wed a stranger?”

I add more sugar to my tea, watching it melt away in the hot mix. Gran calls this us having our cuppa. It’s part of the routine we found when I started staying with her after we lost mom. We talk about our days, or she tells me stories about her fleeting time being a Duchess.

Ma was on the same path, it would seem, paired off before she was even born to a young man who would one day be Duke. When Cambridge erupted in a short-lived civil war, Opa sent his wife and child away for their safety. I say he sent them away to absolve him of his responsibilities.

“It is a special honor to be asked to take part in a royal marriage. To carry on a tradition dating back centuries. I was honored to be asked. And I am honored for you...sweetheart, the Duke of Cambridge needs a bride, and you were chosen.”

My spoon clatters in my tea as her words sink in. I was chosen? To wed a man I have never met? In Cambridge, a place I have been once on a brief holiday? Do they want me to get married? To an actual Duke?

“Oh... oh no. You must be joking, gran.”

I laugh softly, waiting for her to join. That laugh dies when her mouth draws to a single line, her crystal blue eyes narrowing at me. No laughs. There is no joke or punchline. My grandmother means to do just what she warned me she might do one day.

“Gran! Iam notgetting married to a man I never met before! Who cares about tradition or the old country? I was born here, inthiscountry and in thisdamn century. An arranged marriage? Stop it. I will not.”

“Oh, Charlotte, sweetheart, youwill. You were always meant to wed a member of the royal family. It was always your birthright. One you must uphold even if you would rather not. We owe it.”

“Who do I owe it to? Opa? To the families in Cambridge, who could give a blueberry’s butt about either of us? After you came to the states you were forgotten about. You and Ma, and me. I do not owe them a thing!”

“Youowe me, Charlotte Rye! I am your blood, your mother’s blood, and I made promises, too. Ones I will keep, even if your grandfather never could. We owe a lot to those families you care so little for.”

I wince because I know she is not wrong. I hold a lot of resentment towards my Opa, but while he may have never come for them, he always provided for them. Each year for her birthday, my ma always got a bouquet of her favorite flowers and a dazzling Faberge egg. I thought they were tacky as hell.

My gaze is drawn across the room, where they sit sparkling in the sun, taking up several of the built-in shelves of the sitting room. I wonder for a moment what Ma would tell gran. If she were here now, would she let herself be married off to a man just to uphold some dated tradition? My mouth twists in a smile because I know the answer.

My mother would have done what she felt was right.

“Do I at least get to meet this man before our wedding?”

Gran beams a smile at me, her eyes shimmering in the afternoon light. Sipping at her tea, she nods her head, in I hope, an answer to my question. I take another deep breath. What else do I have going for me?

My cat loves my Gran more than me. My job at the bookstore does not afford me much, though I love it. While I love my small circle of friends, they will all be starting families of their own. It will just be me and my grandmother. The most popular woman in Silver Shores, with no shortage of events or friends to attend to. And she has my damn cat.

“Well Gran... I guess we’re going to Cambridge.”

Chapter Three

Chambers

I am not a man who wants attention or esteem.

Being who I am is not difficult most of the time. I have a privileged life because of it, I will never forget that. While I am thankful for all it has given me and all I have experienced, sometimes it feels like I am just playing a part.

Each of the Dukes under Archie’s rule have duties and business to take care of in our provinces. We answer to Archie, but our provinces are ours to rule. That means doing our best to ensure our people live enriched lives, the infrastructure is sound, and our regions stay profitable.

There is just one caveat to us ruling over our provinces. We must wed and produce an heir within a year of taking our titles. If we do not, we will lose our title and most of the benefits that go with it. Sometimes I wonder if it would be worth it to lose it all and be allowed to live my own life.

Hell, I don’t even get to choose my bride.

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