A Royal Engagement: The Young Royals Book 1 (2 page)

"Good Afternoon Princess Alyssabeth," a stewardess said with a short curtesy, "May I get you some refreshments?"
 

"Not until I get some answers," I said and her smile faltered, "Benjamin, I demand to know what the hell is going on."
 

Benjamin waved away the stewardess, waiting until the door to the galley was secure before speaking.
 

"Your father and brother were in a hunting...accident," he said, looking directly at me, his eyes compassionate, but hard.
 

"Accident?" I asked dumbly, "What kind of accident? Are they okay?"
 

I watched his jaw jump as he clenched his teeth and exhaled through his nose, "They're dead," he said softly.
 

"Lys." I woke to the soft whisper and gentle patting of Meredith.

After being told that the two most important men in my life were dead, I had escaped to the small private bedroom on the plane and cried until I'd fallen asleep.
 
I hadn't even begun to process what it meant that the King and the Heir Apparent were gone, I was simply grieving for a beloved father and brother.
 
All that would come later.

"Lys, we're about an hour from landing," Meredith went on, sitting on the bed beside me.
 
"There is a change of clothes and a makeup bag in the ensuite."

I sighed, she was right.
 
It would not do for the Princess to arrive home wearing Levis and t-shirt.
 
I'd probably never get to wear them again.

"Thanks," I said and as she began to move away I grabbed her hand.
 
I looked up into her compassionate blue eyes and tried to smile, "I mean it Meredith," I said, "Thank you, for everything.
 
Things are going to change now and I'm going to need you more than ever.
 
I want you to know that even though it may seem like it at times, I've never taken you or our relationship for granted."

She smiled softly at me and wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands.
 
"I know," she said, her voice rough with emotion.
 
She bent down to hug me and I clung to her for a moment.
 
"I've got your back, Lys," she whispered in my ear before pulling away and leaving me to change.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and got to my feet.
 
It was almost a nine and a half hour flight from Boston to Merveille, the small European country that was home to me, and I had spent about six of those in an exhausted, fitful sleep.
 
I knew my eyes would be puffy and my waist length hair a tangle.
 
I may be the grieving daughter and sister, but I was still a Princess and when we arrived at St Benét Airport in Calanais, the press would be waiting.

My days of messy buns, jeans and hoodies were done.
 
I would no longer be the anonymous princess who stayed out of the limelight.
 
I would be the Crown Princess of Merveille, soon to be Queen.
 
It was a situation that I had never entertained, a position I had never wanted.
 
I was happy in my anonymity, in my relatively humble existence in Boston, in being just another Harvard student.

With a deep breath to fortify myself, I headed to the ensuite to brush my teeth, wash my face and try to tame my dark hair into some sort of smooth, sophisticated chignon.
 
It had been a while since I'd had to put on the facade and I was out of practise.
 
Once I got to the Palace, I would be surrounded by lady's maids to help me with this, but until then I had to make the best of it on my own.

I stripped off my well-worn and loved Levis and looked at the sedate, black, knee length dress that had been provided for me.
 
It was a Ralph Lauren sleeveless shift with a thin black belt and fitted blazer.
 
There were also flesh coloured silk stockings, complete with garter belt, fresh underwear (La Perla, of course) and a pair of black leather Jimmy Choo pumps.
 
So very far from the jeans and The Cure t-shirt I had been wearing.

It kinda hit me then.
 
I was no longer my own person.
 
Every thing I did from now on would have far reaching effects.
 
Every step I made would be scrutinised by the press and judged on the altar of public opinion.
 
The moment I stepped out of this plane and onto Merveille soil, I would be a servant of the people and my life would no longer be my own.

I didn't know if I was ready for that.

Sure, I'd been trained how to be a Princess.
 
I had impeccable manners, I knew every dance, greeting and tradition of my people.
 
I spoke four languages fluently, I could trace my family tree back to the dark ages and I could even needlepoint.
 
But none of that really made any difference, none of it would help me rule my country.

No one had ever thought there would be reason for me to.

That was the reason I had been allowed to go off to the U.S. and study, that was why I had been left relatively enough alone for the past ten years.
 
I was just the baby, the sweet little princess who would marry and live out her days in obscurity.
 
Jacob had been the apple of everyone's eye and he'd revelled in the attention.
 
There was no way I could fill his shoes, or those of my father.
 
They had both been born to rule, I had been merely an accessory.

I slumped onto the bed and dropped my head in my hands.
 
What was I going to do?
 
Merveille was not a country that was all that proactive when it came to females in authority.
 
I didn't think there was even a female member of parliament.
 
My mother couldn't rule because she had married into the family, and was not born into it, and I doubt that the very traditional members of court would welcome me into their midst.

Not only was I going to have to grieve publicly, but I was also going to have to fight for my birthright, one that I didn't even know whether I wanted or not.
 
I'm sure that as we flew towards Calanais, the Dukes and Duchesses were dragging out the parchments and tracing their family trees to find who the next in line should be.
 
No one would expect me to succeed and I daresay most hoped I would abdicate in favour of a more suitable male heir.

But could I give up the legacy of several hundred years?
 
Could I hand over rule of the country that I loved and essentially wipe away all my family had done?

There was a polite knock at the door and I heard Meredith's voice, "Do you need some help Lys?"

I looked down at myself wearing nothing but my cotton underwear and almost laughed.
 
I was a mess.
 
I was barely able to function on my own, how could I even contemplate ruling a country?
 
I fiddled with the silver bangle on my wrist, turning it around my arm three times.
 
It had been a gift from Meredith, she had a matching one on her wrist.

"Yes, please," I replied, feeling defeated.

Meredith slipped into the room and took one look at me and knew I was close to another melt down.
 
She knew me almost better than I knew myself.
 
With quick efficiency, she took charge and within record time I was dressed, my makeup was done and my hair was in perfect order.
 
Just in time to take my seat for landing.
 
She handed me a pair of dark glasses, buckled me into my seat and then sat beside me, taking my hand and squeezing encouragingly.

The plane touched down with barely a blip and then slowed to taxi to the terminal.

"Welcome home, Your Royal Highness," the plane's captain said over the mike.

I stood on the platform at the top of the stairs leading down to the tarmac and took a deep breath of the cool crisp April air.
 
It was spring in Merveille, but with snow still covering the mountaintops in the distance, the air was cool and I was thankful for the blazer I wore.
 
It was going to be a fine day, although the sun was barely showing it's face above the snow caps across Lac Merveilleux.
 

At the bottom of the stairs was a motorcade, three dark BMW sedans with tinted windows and two police bikes.
 
I would really have rather arrived incognito, but I suppose that was out of the question, what with the circumstances of my arrival and all.

There was a red carpet leading from the stairs to the middle car and it was lined with the Royal Guard in their dress blues complete with bearskin caps and rifles.
 
At the end of the red carpet was the welcoming committee, including a man in an Army Lieutenant's uniform, a woman I knew to be my mother's personal secretary, the Chief of Police and the Prime Minister.
 
My mother was absent, as was the custom for mourning.
 
It was quite a turnout for seven in the morning.

Beyond the Police barricade was the press and some die-hard royal fans - and possibly detractors, not that I wanted to think about that.
 
The flash of cameras and the shouted questions from the press corps rolled over me without much impact, although I was glad of the dark glasses that shielded my weepy, red-rimmed eyes.

Cody and Aiden descended the stairs in front of me.
 
After they had taken two steps, Meredith, keeping close to my side, prompted me to follow.
 
Scott and Jamie followed closely behind and Benjamin brought up the rear.

I kept my head high, my shoulders back and refused to cower in front of the audience despite my overwhelming desire to crawl into a hole and curl up into a ball.
 
I was the Heir Apparent and I needed to show the people of this country that their futures were secure in me.

The Royal Guard saluted as I moved through the guard of honour and I kept my eyes forward and focused on the door of the car.
 
The quicker I could get out of the spotlight, the better.

When I reached the end of the carpet, the welcoming committee bowed and curtsied to me, which I acknowledged with a brief nod of my head.
 
The Prime Minister took my hand and offered words of comfort and sympathy, although I'm not really clear on what he actually said.
 
There was a low level buzzing in my ears which made it hard to hear and concentrate on what was happening.
 
It took all of my self control just to keep upright.

The Chief of Police also shook my hand and spoke solemnly to me.
 
Beside him stood the man in military dress and as our eyes connected, I felt a rush of recognition.
 
It had been at least ten years since I had seen Jordan Wicks and seeing him now brought home the very real fact that my brother was gone.

He took my hand, but didn't speak, he didn't need to.
 
The depth of emotion in his eyes was enough to start mine watering again and I was twice thankful for the sunglasses.
 
Jordan had been one of Jacob's closest friends and that he would be here to meet me was testament to their relationship.

Lorraine, my mother's secretary, pulled me into a quick hug before ushering me into the waiting car.
 
Meredith had gone in first and Jordan followed me in, securing me in the middle.
 
He took my hand without speaking and I squeezed it gently in thanks.
 
If nothing else, I had another friend on my side.

Lorraine took the front seat and the car moved away.
 
I leant my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.
 
I was jet lagged and grieving but there would be no respite for me in the near future.
 
The matter of the crown's succession would need to be addressed as soon as possible and settled before the official mourning period had been completed to ensure a smooth transition.

"Your mother is waiting for you in the conservatory," Lorraine began, "Breakfast will be served as soon as you arrive."

"I need sleep, Lorraine," I said wearily.

"You will have some time this afternoon for a short nap, but there is much to do in the mean time."

I groaned, making a very unladylike and un-princess-like noise in my throat.
 
How could I even face the business of the day when I felt like I had been dragged backwards through a bramble bush.

"Have some mercy, please," I said.

Lorraine sighed and turned to face me, her lips turned down in sadness, "I know how hard this must be for you," she said softly, "But there are some things you need to be made aware of.
 
There are questions about the circumstances of your father and brother's deaths.
 
The security team need to brief you and apprise you of the changes going forward.
 
There is also the matter of you appointing your own personal secretary and your choice of lady's maids and other personal staff.
 
You will be installed in your old suite for now, until you have decided on how you want your father's suites redecorated.
 
Your mother has requested to be moved into the Chalet and will stay in her own suite until such time as the renovations on it are completed.
 
There is also the reception to be organised and of course the funerals."

"Enough," I said, "I can't take anymore right now.
 
If you are determined to torture me this way then I must be given coffee before I am required to make any decisions."

"Very well," Lorraine said, but I could hear the reprove in her voice.

"How is my mother?" I asked after a moment of blessed silence.

Lorraine's eyes misted for a moment before she took control of her emotions once again and cleared her throat delicately before speaking.
 
"She is as well as could be expected," she said softly before turning around in her seat to face forward once again.