A Royal Wedding: The Royals Series Read online

  Tracy parked in the public area where for once there wasn't a single camera or reporter in the yard. I hadn’t seen it this way in years. It was always open to the public on this side, but today they had closed it. Instead, there was a long line of mourners waiting to see the royal family and offer condolences before entering the mansion for the wake.

  This I’d done before, only it was to congratulate Aiden for being crowned king.

  “Thanks, Tracy,” I said as a valet got the door for me and I climbed out, walking awkwardly to the line and standing at the back. Nerves and sweat crept up on me as eyes turned my way and whispers joined the summer breeze.

  Biting my lip and lifting my phone, I randomly scrolled so it appeared I was doing something other than avoiding the stares and gossip. I tried to take silent deep breaths and gain control over my racing heart.

  Carter had texted, telling me to be brave and he was sorry I was going alone. The coward was avoiding the whole wake and meeting Linna at the pub.

  I wasn’t certain if it was a brave or foolish choice. Or both.

  “Fin?” a voice called as the line moved slowly. I ignored it, hoping she would stop drawing attention to me. But it was Bea and she never gave up on anything. I wasn’t sure how Carter had managed to escape this. “Fin!” She waved.

  I waved back, thankful my sunglasses hid most of my scowl.

  She motioned at the house as if to tell me to come on. I shook my head in small twitches, hoping she got the point. She put her hands on her hips, clearly not getting it or choosing not to listen.

  I texted her, STOP!

  Her reply was instant. No, get up here or I will make even more of a scene. You’re meant to be with the family, and you know it! It’s bad enough Carter refused to come. My mother is livid.

  I just want to pay my respects and hug Mary, Johan, and Jack and leave. Please don’t. This is hard enough! I pleaded with her.

  Fine, but Mary and Aiden are insulted. Just so you know.

  Seeing her remark, I sighed heavily and texted back, When isn’t he? I’ll see you in a minute.

  K.

  She’d sent a K?

  It was texting doom. It meant I was dead.

  I brushed it off and continued with the slow line until I was close enough to see the family.

  Aiden’s eyes darted back to mine, forcing his brow to knit, and he accidentally glared at the person he was speaking to.

  Alex was next to him, standing in Geoff’s place, so to speak, next to the queen mother. She was as smug as I’d ever seen and laying on the polite sweetness as thick as possible, practically speaking for the queen mother and Aiden.

  My hate for her had grown remarkably in the last hour. A feat I didn’t think was possible.

  When I got to Jack, I removed my sunglasses as he hugged me tightly. “Hiya, Fin.” He was a lot taller than me now. It was weird. Though they were all tall so it shouldn't have been. The last time I’d really paid any attention to his height, he’d seemed so young, and I guessed he always would be in my eyes.

  Johan dragged me in next. He didn't speak, just smothered me in his suit. He pulled me back, his eyes doing that stormy thing Aiden’s did, as if he wanted to say a thousand things but couldn't, the words passing as clouds in his eyes.

  I stood on my very tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek as I had done to Jack.

  Mary was next. She snarled at me, “In the line, Fin? Really? And the back of the line to boot?”

  “I missed you too,” I said with a smile and hugged her tightly; it was my turn to cling. My fingers trembled and my eyes threatened tears, but I held them back, just barely. “I’m so sorry,” I said the thing I’d said to her all week in every conversation we’d had.

  “Don’t leave,” she whispered. “Meet me inside. I’ll murder you if you don’t.”

  “Okay,” I murmured back, not actually scared of her idle threats.

  I stepped to the side, coming face to face with Aiden, or rather face to chest. I lifted my gaze, wincing when we made eye contact. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said woodenly.

  His eyebrows knit but he said nothing. We didn't hug or touch, just stared for a moment before Alex put a hand on mine.

  “Thanks so much for coming, Fin. We really appreciate it.” She squeezed, bringing me back from whatever hold Aiden had me in.

  “Yes, of course.” I hugged her limply because I had to.

  The queen mother was next. She offered a hand suggesting I should kiss it. Instead, I took it and squeezed, forcing my eyes into the most authentic expression of love I could muster and spoke genuinely, “I am so sorry.” This would be the moment I’d bring up to God if he ever answered back on any of my bitching.

  “Thank you,” she said, sounding astonished. I squeezed once more before letting go and turning to enter the house.

  All eyes were on me, and a couple of forbidden cell phones, but I ignored them. I hurried for Dee and Mark who stood in the large foyer.

  “There you are!” Dee exclaimed and hugged me tightly. “I didn't see you at the funeral. I was worried.”

  “I was in my usual seat,” I joked half-heartedly. “Hi, Mark.” I offered him a quick embrace.

  “Fin, you have to stop sitting at the back. It causes more drama,” Dee lectured me.

  “I know. I just, I want to pay my respects and leave before—”

  “Leave?” Johan interrupted me, slipping his arm over my shoulders. “You just got here.”

  “We both know me being here brings stress and media and nonsense. So stop.” I added something to the tone so we could drop the conversation. “This is supposed to be about your father.”

  “Whatever,” Johan growled.

  “Hungry?” Mary asked as she entered our small circle.

  “Starving,” I lied but hoped she would lead me to a private corner where we could hide, and I could pretend to eat.

  “Come on then.” She linked an arm into Johan’s and forced him away, dragging me with him. When we got to the back room, she offered me a stern look. “Why didn't you sit where you were supposed to?”

  “Because I just wanted to go unnoticed and pay respects and not be the center of attention.”

  “You do realize that sitting at the back has the opposite effect?” She handed me a plate and started filling it for me. “And you look awful. You’re thin as a ghost.”

  “Pale as a ghost,” I corrected her.

  “That too. Are you not eating?” She put more food on the plate than I’d eaten in days.

  “I eat.” I pulled the plate away before she could manage anything else on there.

  “Mary’s right, Fin. You’re skin and bone.” Johan’s eyebrows knit over his worried stare.

  “I’ve been running a lot.” It was the truth. I’d been running a ton. And eating a lot less. A fat-shaming photo on the cover of one of the trash magazines, the day after Aiden dumped me, had me back to the bowl diet. And not the high school version where if I crammed a burrito in there, I called it dinner. This was more scrambled eggs and salad. And not the good salad either. Kale and spinach . . .

  It was a form of hell but I was back in my pre-Aiden clothing.

  Not having an appetite for two months had definitely helped. Eating kale was fine when you couldn’t taste how gross it was.

  “How’s Jess?” Johan asked the question he’d no doubt wanted to ask the second he saw me.

  “Fine.” That wasn't entirely true, but I wasn't sure if she’d want me discussing her with Johan.

  “Cool,” he said offhandedly. “I should get back before Mother notices I’m missing.” He kissed my cheek once. “Don't leave, okay?”

  “Sure,” I lied.

  As soon as he was gone, I put the plate down. It was harder to keep up the pretenses in front of Mary.

  “Why don't you talk to him? See if he wants to discuss things?” Her worried stare pried more than her words did.

  “Because it’s your father’s wake,” I said as if
that should’ve been obvious.

  “I still can’t believe it.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry.” I put a hand on her arm.

  “No, not about Dad. About you and Aiden. Dad was definitely dying.” She returned the same tone suggesting I should’ve known that.

  “Mary?” Alex called as she came into the back room. “Oh hello, Finley. Mary, your mother sent me to tell you that you can’t hide back here.”

  “Tell my mother—!”

  “We’ll be right out,” I said over Mary before this got ugly, as it had a tendency to do. Mary was with me on one thing in life: Alex was the devil. She was the only one who believed me that Alex was behind everything.

  “Of course.” Alex curtseyed, as she should. She was no longer anyone but staff—ambitious staff—who had weaseled her way into the family and country. She let the media call her “princess,” but technically she was nothing but a duchess or however they formally called a widowed duchess.

  “Okay, before your mom comes back here, I’m leaving.” I kissed Mary on the cheek. “Come to the hotel and see me. The suite is stunning, by the way. Thank you.”

  “You can’t leave me here. You just arrived.”

  “Mary, don't make me stay. Please,” I begged. “This is killing me. I thought I could handle it but I’m dying. Like nervous-stomach dying.”

  “Then end it. Make up. Apologize and end this suffering. Because I can tell you, he is a bear to be around. He’s miserable. He misses you, badly. As we all do.” Her tone crept to the mean one, the cutting and cruel one.

  Trying not to take it personally, I held my own. “It’s not that simple.” I hugged her again. “I’m going to step outside for some air.” I pulled away and slipped through the staff side of the dining area.

  Tears threatened me, but I held them as I hurried to a spot I figured would be quiet, taking the dark hallways and corridors no one used. As I turned a corner I ran smack into a wall of a human being, thumping roughly against a suit and stumbling back. I would have fallen but hands shot out, holding me up.

  I blinked and lifted my gaze, embarrassed and then scared when I saw him.

  “Sorry,” I said jerking my arm free of his warm grip.

  Instead of speaking, he clenched his jaw, his stare burning me as his eyes did all the talking. He hated me. He still hated me. There was no changing that. He flexed the hand that had held me up but didn't move or speak otherwise.

  I didn't know what else to say. Did I apologize for his father’s death again? Did I ask him to move? He blocked my path, glaring, perhaps daring me to ask him to let me by.

  My fingers ached, desperately trying to lead my hands and arms to him, to touch him, hug him, bury my face in his chest under the guise of comforting him but instead taking comfort for myself.

  He moved as if he might take a step toward me but didn't. I wondered for a second if he needed comfort too.

  Just as I lost the fight and was about to leap on him, he stepped to the side, defeat filling his face. My heart burned, squeezed to near death in my chest as I mourned my own losses once more. Lowering my gaze and admitting defeat as well, I brushed by him, stealing some of his scent in the air. Deodorant and Tom Ford and his own smell. I carried it with me as I hurried to the side entrance, my skin abuzz with certainty that I’d feel his touch as he came to his senses and rushed after me. But it didn't happen.

  When I was finally free of the house, I ran to the small garden, which had been planted for Aiden’s coronation, and sat on the bench, staring at the sunset, the flowers, and the forest behind it all. Taking huge, sharp inhales, I fought tears and desperation. Why was seeing him so impossible? Why couldn't I just wave and be cool? Why did he hate me still? The fight was months old. My grief turned to anger, and I was midway on a mental journey through hell when I heard a voice.

  “Fin?” Alex called to me from the grass as if we were friends. “Are you okay? I saw you rush out.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath before answering her, “Yeah, not feeling well. I’ve had a bit of a bad stomach for days. Grief maybe,” I lied.

  “Of course.” She folded her thin arms over her chest. “How have you been? Since the breakup and all?”

  “Good.” I forced chipper words, “Quiet for a change. Which is nice.”

  “You look amazing. What are you, a size two?”

  “Yeah.” I wasn't sure why we would discuss this. “Running a lot.”

  “Of course, Carter, right? He’s Bea’s boyfriend. The American who runs all the time. What a hottie. I’m surprised you guys never—”

  “He’s a friend,” I cut her off, disgusted she would dare suggest it. “A dear friend. I don't do the ‘hookup with friends’ thing.” I decided to stoop low and take an innocent-sounding shot at her. “Always ends badly and the friendship is ruined.”

  Scammy ho!

  “I don't know.” She shrugged, an evil grin crossing her face. “I’ve managed it a few times, and we’ve either stayed friends or secret friends with benefits.” She winked. “If you know what I mean.”

  Touché!

  She was better at this than I was. I was rusty. My inner bitch had been hibernating due to lack of use and self-pity.

  “Cool.” I acted indifferent.

  “I suppose you’ve been enjoying that single-girl time, eh?” she pried, no doubt looking for ammo to offer Aiden. As if he needed anything else to hate me for.

  “Yes, it’s great.” I gave her nothing.

  “How are you loving the hotel?”

  “It’s incredible,” I admired, not wanting her to assume I was upset when told I’d be staying there; I was actually relieved. And it was insanely beautiful.

  “Oh, thank goodness, I was hoping you’d love it. I was the designer for a large portion of the suites.”

  Why, God, why?

  “Well, I should head back in. Don't want Aiden or anyone to wonder where I’ve gone.” Alex smiled wide, boasting the win.

  “No, I’m sure the kids are all needing as much sisterly support as possible.” I made a last stab but there was no denying who was the victor of this round. I didn't have my game face on and suffered from too large a dose of alone-with-Aiden-in-the-hallway time.

  “Of course. Hope your stomach is feeling better.” She alluded to more. “See ya ‘round.” She waved and turned, leaving me there. I slumped on the bench, hating the song and dance.

  This was precisely the reason I hated coming here. Being rid of this place and these people—not the ones I loved but all the others—was the one perk. The one good thing about it all ending.

  It was just too bad it wasn't enough.

  It didn’t stop the constant bleeding of my heart.

  3

  The world is your oyster. Don’t let it rot before you eat it.

  The Trojan horse

  The wind whistled as it raced over the hilltops around the monastery Aiden’s dad had once desperately wanted me to see. And the moment I saw it, I knew why. It was spectacular. While the trip he had arranged for me two years earlier turned out to be a complete hoax, the sights stuck with me, particularly this spot, and I found myself drawn here every time I visited Andorra.

  It was a great place to be alone and listen to the breeze touching everything in its path, grass growing on the side of the hill, leaves that had departed the trees too early, the chimes in the distance that tinkled the way I imagined a fairy would during flight.

  And oddly enough, no one came here.

  I assumed it was the flight of stairs that kept them away.

  A flight I didn't love climbing but the solitude was worth it. I was left to light a stick of incense and pretend to pray, eyes closed and mind racing.

  Though sometimes I did pray.

  This week Marbles was having a minor surgery on her cataracts, and I totally asked God to hook her up. Not that she needed prayers from someone like me. She and God were tight, it was obvious. She should have died ages ago but was still
going strong.

  I also prayed for Aiden’s dad. Regardless of how he had treated me, I lifted my face to the sky and smiled, hoping he had found his peace. Everyone deserved peace.

  Crunching grass drew my attention to the right where a passing monk bowed slightly, giving me a soft smile. They didn't do full smiles. It was creepy, not in a pervy way but as though they somehow saw what was in your soul. Like the vow of celibacy gave them special powers to ascertain more than a mere mortal would with nothing but a glance. Though I had to admit, being celibate would likely crush my ability to smile fully too. Add to that, the basic diet they ate and always wearing that hideous shade of beige-brown, and I’d be downright miserable.

  Though I was basically living something resembling their life. Minus the piety and responsibility and weird outfits and wine . . . okay, I was celibate and not eating as much as normal.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. Checking to ensure no one was nearby, I lifted it out and smiled when I saw her name. “Morning, Hattie.”

  “It’s nine in the morning, I’ve been up for hours. In fact, it’s nearly lunchtime.” She sounded as impressed as the last time I spoke to her. “Are you behaving?”

  “Of course.” I scowled and lowered my voice so the monks wouldn't notice me doing the one thing I shouldn’t be. “How’s Marbles?”

  “Worried. You know how she gets. She’s all piss and vinegar until it’s time for a surgery and then she’s a ball of nerves. They all send their condolences.”

  “I’ll give them to Mary.”

  “They’re not for Mary. No one at the home knows her. You’ll give them to Aiden.” She was always so sharp.

  “Fine,” I said with a heavy sigh.

  “Are you two not speaking at all? You can’t act like big girls and boys?”

  “We’re being civil.” It was a lie. We hadn’t spoken except for me to say I was sorry for his loss twice, once in the receiving line and once in the hallway. I’d arrived in Andorra days ago, and we’d only seen each other twice. Mary, Bea, Carter, and Dee were with us all the time but not him.