Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“Pardon me, duke.” My pilot’s head peeps out of the cockpit. “We’ve a bit of an issue. Her Majesty is requesting your presence.”
I twist my stiffly set jaw. “I'll entertain the Queen later.”
His eyes dart side to side, having never defied me. “Unfortunately, I’m unable to go around her guards.”
Teeth gritted, I order, “Plow through the lot of them!”
3
Victor
The five hundred million euros transferred into my pilot’s bank account wouldn't persuade him to flatten the Queen’s guards. I was transported, against my will, via helicopter to Buckingham Palace. Now, as I’m standing in front of the miniature monarch, I work at the stiffness in my jaw. Her pale eyes advise that she is past the point of sympathizing with her grandson. The death of my son and wife once placated any issues that Her Majesty had with me.
Those days are over.
My demeanor implies that this entire situation is bollocks.
At her signal, I sit.
“Victor, is there anything you wish to disclose?” Grandmother’s regal tone holds a hint of caution.
“Not at all.”
Buzz. My mobile vibrates in the pocket of my suit jacket.
“As the years have passed, my expectations for your father have diminished.”
I imbue a groan behind my snarled lips. I’m in the midst of a bloody fucking monologue. Really?
“I adore you and Graham. So, suffice it to say, I tolerate my youngest born. I’d never fathom, never conceive that I would need to tolerate you!”
Are you finished?
“Victor, through trying times, you’ve always had a certain level of resilience.”
Nope, apparently not.
“After Emeli and Jude's deaths, I granted you leeway to an extent I have begun to regret. I've ruminated over it. At this time, I realize I performed as a grandmother instead of your Queen.” She inhales and further places herself at the center of my dilemma. “Most surely, you are turning into your father, Silas!” She spits out the detestable word.
At my mobile's incessant ringing, I retreat to the corners of my mind. I keep repeating that the Queen is my blood.
Not a threat.
My oblivious blood relative isn’t aware of the severity of my current circumstances. Unlike my father, I will respect her, though.
The coldness of the Queen’s eyes wavers, and the unmerciful royal sheds away, leaving the concerned grandmother I once knew. She implores, “Why now? Your wife and child have been dead for ages. Victor, my love, you’ve endured much turmoil throughout your life. Why become the scandal of the royal family?”
I deflate. Oh, Grandmummy, I’m sorry.
“That was not my intention.” I exhale and gather the strength to grovel and leave Her Majesty appeased, but a cold front descends between us.
“Come off it, Victor. You’re manipulative like your father. I can see it in your eyes. You’d rather be any other place but here.”
Who wouldn’t?
“You have defied me. Like your father, I disregarded your delight in your manly indulgences. I allowed it. You've kept that woman of color. I permitted it. Even Silas wouldn’t make such declarations as you did last night aloud. You claimed to love th-this commoner!”
I bite my tongue at her statements. Allowed and permitted. I'll renounce my dukedom after I save Luxury. Or fuck it, I'll have already died.
The Queen’s searing gaze leaves mine. She nods toward one of the guards at the exit. The doors burst open.
Guards escort Madeline into the room. Gathering the hem of her cream-colored dress, my friend dips into a curtsy. Her mousy brown hair is pulled into a ponytail that falls over her shoulder.
Buzz. My phone continues to vibrate against my chest cavity.
“Sit next to your betrothed,” Grandmother commands with a wave of her bejeweled hand.
“Betrothed?” I inquire through clenched teeth. “Last night, I informed my entire duchy of my intentions with Luxury Whitson.”
“Thus, your presence here.” Her Majesty punctuates her statement by sweeping a blunt hand around the room.
I look toward my childhood friend. The Queen hasn’t prompted the puppet to speak. She already knows that I don’t love her. My glare meets the Queen’s. “Grandmother, allow me to speak freely.”
She gives a tense chuckle. “Victor, you've been in contempt this entire conversation.”
“Lady Madeline is in love with someone else. Why force Maddy to—”
“I am in love with you!” Maddy professes.
“No.” I look to my Queen, my eyes never wavering as I lie. “We called off the engagement a while ago on the grounds that Lady Madeline had taken a lover. She engaged in a torrid affair while I was out of the country. I have forgiven Maddy as a friend only. Grandmother . . .” My tone fluctuates with forged emotion. “You wouldn’t force me to marry this unfaithful woman.”
Maddy scoffs at the preposterousness of my statement.
Her Majesty’s shoulders square. “Oh, so you were out of the country, eh? Victor, you vanish for extended periods. You’ve embarrassed your betrothed by frolicking with that other woman. That colored woman! You will now marry Madeline. Take up as many lovers as the both of you are willing to agree to. Be discrete. Princess Mary announced your engagement last night before you stood up and made a mockery of yourself.”