Royal Mistake #6 Read online




  Royal Mistake #6

  Ember Casey

  Renna Peak

  Casey Peak Publishing, LLC

  Contents

  Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team

  1. Victoria

  2. Andrew

  3. Victoria

  4. Andrew

  5. Victoria

  6. Andrew

  7. Victoria

  8. Andrew

  9. Victoria

  10. Andrew

  11. Victoria

  12. Andrew

  13. Victoria

  14. Andrew

  15. Victoria

  16. Andrew

  17. Victoria

  18. Andrew

  19. Victoria

  20. Andrew

  21. Victoria

  22. Andrew

  23. Victoria

  24. Andrew

  25. Victoria

  26. Andrew

  27. Victoria

  28. Andrew

  29. Victoria

  30. Andrew

  31. Victoria

  32. Andrew

  33. Victoria

  34. Andrew

  35. Victoria

  36. Andrew

  37. Victoria

  38. Andrew

  39. Epilogue

  Royal Mistake

  Royal Heartbreakers Reader Team

  Also by Renna Peak

  Also by Ember Casey

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, locations or incidents are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Ember Casey and Renna Peak

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition: April, 2017

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  Victoria

  Off script. He’s gone off script. The words play over and over in my mind. I don’t even hear what it is Andrew is saying—I can only hear the thrashing of my heartbeat in my ears.

  He’s not going to marry Justine because he’s in love.

  He’s in love. He’s in love. With me.

  With me? I know he’s said it before, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. And my feelings for him could never be the main concern. Even though I love him, too, I can’t be the woman he deserves. I can’t be any part of the future of Montovia.

  Andrew is swarmed after the speech—his family members crowd around him. I suppose it’s an attempt to protect him from any unwanted questions from the press, but it isn’t as though the media have any rights in this country to ask him anything. I can’t understand what the family might be so worried about. But then I remember.

  He’s not marrying Justine.

  That probably throws everything in the kingdom into question. How will they get the rights to the scepter back if Andrew doesn’t marry her? And what will happen if his father should die?

  My head is throbbing—I never wanted anything to do with this life. I’m supposed to be asking the questions—not trying to solve the problems.

  I slip into the corridor outside the small conference room and lean against the wall, more to steady myself—and steady my thoughts—than anything else.

  A man walks up to me and says something. Then another. And another.

  Before I know it, I’m surrounded by the same members of the press who had been in the conference room—all of them peppering me with questions. I can barely make out any of the individual voices—they’re all speaking at the same time.

  Victoria, will you be marrying Prince Andrew?

  Victoria, how long has this relationship been going on?

  Ms. Simpson, was Prince Andrew’s pageant for a bride a ruse?

  Ms. Simpson, are you prepared to be queen?

  My stomach rolls as my eyes lock with the man who asks the last question. I clutch at my middle—hoping not to vomit on the group I might have been part of only a few weeks ago—before I edge around them and tear down the hallway.

  I find my way to a glass door that leads to an enclosed courtyard in the middle of the hospital. It’s not like I’m hidden here, but at least there’s a little bit of air.

  I sit down on a stone bench on the other side of a fountain—I’m not quite hidden from view, but I’m far enough away that it would be difficult for anyone to see me unless they had witnessed me entering the small area.

  It takes me a few moments to catch my breath, and I’m still not entirely sure I can believe what happened in the conference room.

  But I don’t get to ponder on my confusion for long—the glass door swings open and I see someone walking toward me.

  At first, I think it might be Andrew. But that thought slips away quickly—Andrew is busy tending to his family right now, and my near-hysteria over what he’s said shouldn’t be anywhere near the top of his mind.

  As the figure nears, I see it’s a woman, and then I recognize Princess Justine. Her pace slows to almost a tiptoe as she nears me.

  She finally slips around the fountain to the side where I’m sitting. She casts a glance over her shoulder—it almost looks like she’s trying to see if anyone has followed her—before she walks over to sit on another nearby bench.

  We sit there in silence for a time. I glance over at her after a while—she has her hands clasped tightly on her lap and she’s staring down at them, almost like she’s praying. But her eyes are open—she’s muttering something to herself, but it doesn’t seem to be a prayer.

  Her eyes are ringed red and they’re slightly puffy. She finally lifts her gaze from her hands and turns to look over at me.

  She frowns, narrowing her eyes. “I didn’t ask for this, you know. None of it. I had my reasons to be part of the silly pageant, but I never wanted a betrothal.”

  “I…I can’t imagine you did.”

  “My father…” Her voice almost cracks with the word and she drops her gaze to her hands again. “My father can be a very cruel man when he wants to be. He’s been threatening to marry me to one of the Montovian princes since I was born. And not in a good way, you understand.”

  I frown and shake my head slightly. I definitely do not understand.

  She lifts her gaze to mine again. “I’ve always imagined I would be able to marry for love, even though I knew my father would never see things my way. What choice did I have? Running away? I’ve known my entire life that my father would find me the best suitor and use me as some political pawn to win him whatever favor best suited him and our country.”

  She shakes her head. “I have none of the freedoms of Princess Sophia. And I always assumed I would be married to either Prince Leopold or Prince William. But never—never in my entire life did I expect I would be married to Prince Andrew. It almost seemed too good to be true.”

  “Oh. I—”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything, Victoria. Nor am I blaming you. I’m happy for Andrew. And for you. I truly am. It’s just that I’m disappointed—that’s all. I’m particularly disappointed that Andrew would take the opportunity he had while speaking to the rest of the world to also announce that he was ending our betrothal. It might have been a little less upsetting if he’d told me before his speech
that I was to be humiliated in front of the entire world on television.”

  “Oh. God…” How did I not see that before? How did I not see how horrible Andrew’s announcement would be for this woman? Have I really become so wrapped up in my own problems—in my own head—that I can no longer see what effect my actions are having on others? How long has this been going on?

  Since you met Andrew. That’s how long.

  I press a hand to my forehead “God, I’m so sorry, Your Highness—”

  “It’s Justine. Please. There’s no need for formality at this point.”

  I blink at her a few times. She might be young—she might even be a little weak willed if she’s allowing her father to choose her future for her—but she seems to be a normal person. One who is currently hurting because of being unceremoniously dumped. And not just dumped—Andrew ended their relationship in front of me and the entire world.

  “I imagine my father will be taking away the offer of the rights to the scepter as a wedding present for the two of you.” She sighs, rubbing her palm on her temple. “My brother has had a gambling problem for years. You’d think that Andrew would have known that when he engaged in a card game with him. Even if Andrew had won that night, my brother would have still found a way to get that scepter from him with my father’s encouragement. It’s been on my father’s agenda for years. Years. Probably since before I was born.

  I nod. I do know enough about Montovian and European history to know that relations haven’t been great between the two countries for some time. I can’t even imagine what Andrew was thinking when he decided to play in a high stakes poker match with Prince Reginald.

  “My father is going to receive the news now, as well. He’ll have been watching the press conference. He’ll know that Andrew has decided not to pursue his pageant, and now what? I’ll be a lady of the Montovian Court for a while? Have another party in celebration of my coming out to society—even though it happened several years ago?” She lets out a sharp breath. “Tell me, Victoria. What am I supposed to do now?”

  “I…” I pause for a moment. “I don’t know.”

  She presses her lips into a flat line and nods at me slowly. “Well, that would make two of us.”

  We’re silent again for a few moments before she speaks again. “I’m not some pathetic fool, you know. This…this choice that Andrew is making… It will have consequences.” Her expression softens. “Though I’m certainly not blaming you for that, either. I could tell that Andrew’s announcement today was as much a surprise for you as it was for me.”

  My head bobs in a slow nod. “It was.”

  She purses her lips. “You may not know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m not trying to offend you—truly I’m not. But Victoria…” She shakes her head. “Living this life is not for the faint of heart. If you aren’t prepared for it…” She frowns, shaking her head again. “It can eat you alive, even if you are prepared for it. Even if you have grown up living it. I’ve prepared since I can remember to marry someone for the good of my country. I only… I thought that I could grow to love Andrew. I hope that’s not offensive to you.”

  “Not at all. And believe me, I never anticipated he would be saying anything like that in his speech today. I wrote the thing, and he did it perfectly until the end. The ending was supposed to be a united front—announcing that you and he were going to join forces for the betterment of both of your countries. Had I known…” I shake my head again. “Look, even if I had known, Andrew would have made his own decision about it. He wants to do what’s best for his country—the same as you. And I’m sure when he comes to his senses…”

  Her expression flattens and she lets out a long breath as she shakes her head at me. “He’s in love with you. I could see it the morning I met you at breakfast. I thought…” She sighs again. “I thought perhaps that together, he and I could get past it.”

  It’s almost like a light bulb goes off in my head and I stand up, forcing a small smile. “Would you excuse me? I have something I need to take care of.”

  She gives me a small nod and turns her gaze to the fountain.

  I walk out of the courtyard and back into the hospital. I turn the opposite direction from the melee going on outside the king’s room, instead walking toward the rear exits.

  Justine is right—this life would tear me apart. It isn’t only that I can’t provide Andrew with an heir. Having to play princess, even for a little while, is going to ruin everything about me. I won’t be able to question anything—any action that another person does. I won’t be able to travel the way I want. And I won’t be able to be myself anymore, not that I’m sure who my real self is at this moment.

  I only have one thing I’m thinking about—one person I need to talk to in order to gain some perspective. And that person is the only one on my mind as I exit the hospital—and probably Montovia—for the final time.

  Andrew

  Everything is chaos around me.

  I should have known my speech would cause quite a stir. Should have anticipated that there would be consequences for my brash words. But I didn’t let myself think about the mess I’d have to deal with after declaring my feelings. I thought only about the truth. About finally standing up and showing the world my true self. About being the man Victoria deserves—one who will proudly declare his feelings for her.

  Now? I’m not so sure it was the right decision.

  The moment my speech was done, my family crowded around me. Several reporters rushed forward, even though they knew such behavior would have them quickly removed—this story, apparently, is worth the risk. By the time I was able to part the crowd, Victoria was gone.

  She ran. I laid my heart on the line, and she ran.

  But what did I expect? I gave her no warning. I made a public announcement about my feelings for her with little thought to what came next. I’ve thrown her into the public eye without her consent.

  I need to find her. Speak with her.

  Someone is tugging on my arm, pulling me away from the sea of reporters. It’s William—and he’s slowly dragging me toward the door.

  “Come on,” he says. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  But it’s too late for that. I am an idiot. I was blinded by my feelings and didn’t think about the consequences. I thought this would be a grand romantic gesture—instead, I can see I’ve just complicated everything.

  I let William pull me out of the room, back into the privacy of the corridor on the other side. My mother and Nicholas follow—but I suddenly realize that Princess Justine is nowhere to be seen.

  “Where’s Justine?” I ask. “She’s not still out there, is she?” The last thing I want is to leave her to those vultures back there.

  Nicholas shakes his head. “I didn’t see where she went.”

  I frown. Another thing I didn’t think about—Justine.

  I look up at my mother, who’s watching me closely with an expression I can’t identify.

  “What is it?” I ask her. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to make my own decisions about my life?”

  Something softens in her eyes. “Of course it is.” She reaches up and puts a hand on my cheek. “And I’m very proud of you for taking a stand. But I suspect there might have been better ways of handling this situation.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me that. I pull away from her, shaking my head. “I need to go find Victoria.”

  “Andrew,” my mother says, reaching after me.

  “Go back to Father’s room,” I tell her gently. “I’ll return there after I’ve found her.”

  I don’t wait to hear what William or Nicholas have to say—I already know I’ve royally fucked up. I turn and stride down the corridor, desperate to find her—and to avoid the members of the press in the meantime.

  She couldn’t have gone far. It’s only been a matter of minutes. Perhaps it’s not as bad as I feared—perhaps she only sneaked away to somewhere private to avoid the press, and she intends to come and find
me as soon as the reporters and photographers have dispersed. As I turn down a corridor, I notice members of the Royal Guard ushering a couple of reporters back out of the hospital. Good—that situation is being handled, at least.

  That doesn’t leave me any closer to discovering where Victoria has gone, however.

  I walk down the corridor, glancing into the rooms on my left. On my right are large windows overlooking a small courtyard.

  A small movement through the window catches my eye. There—the flash of sunlight off of dark hair. She’s out there.

  I run to the door and burst out into the courtyard. “Victoria.”

  But it’s not Victoria who rises from the bench in front of me—it’s Princess Justine. She straightens her shoulders and raises her chin, but I can tell immediately that she was crying not so very long ago. There’s a redness about her eyes that causes a stab of guilt in my gut.

  “Princess,” I say, stepping toward her. “I have to apologize for—”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” she says.

  I stop. I certainly can’t blame her for this response—I treated her carelessly. If I’d actually thought about what I was doing, I would have spoken to her privately before the announcement. But that’s the problem—I didn’t think. And now I’ve let everyone down.

  “There’s no excuse for my behavior,” I say slowly. “This is not what…” I run a hand through my hair. “I never meant to—”

  “You were thoughtless,” she says. “Selfish. Some would even say cruel.”

  Her words are harsh, but I cannot deny their truth. “I truly am sorry—”

  “I don’t want your apology,” she says, crossing her arms. “You’ve already humiliated me publicly. An apology won’t change that.”

  No, it won’t—and like everything else in my life, I’m not sure how to fix this.

  “Part of me is furious with you,” she says, her eyes bright with that very emotion. “Another part of me is hurt. I’ve done everything I was supposed to do…and it wasn’t enough. I was rejected in front of the entire world.”