Page 1 of Royally Tempted
1
ADARA
“She should be grateful she’s a princess and that her brother is so powerful. I’m not certain what man would want her otherwise.”
“Did you see this post fromRoyal Gossip? They refer to her as ‘Princess Plump’, which is pretty clever. Plump in the purse, plump all over. She is a ratherlargecatch when you think about it.”
I sag against the wall trying not to let their giggles get to me, but the sharpness of their words cuts me deeply and stings like the lash of a whip. I should be used to the snide whispers and stupid tabloid stories by now, but I’m not. At the moment, I’m not grateful to be a princess and I’m certainly not grateful to my high-handed brother who sees my life as some sort of bargaining chip to secure another alliance for the good of the country.
I’m in New York City, which I’ve always loved, but instead of being excited to celebrate my upcoming twenty-third birthday in the famous city, I’m longing for the stones of the palace walls to shield me from the vicious barbs of women who bow and simper to gain my brother’s favor, but who talk about me behind my back.
A hand on my arm makes me jump and I glance over my shoulder to see Hayley, my American attendant, and only friend, smiling brightly, her arms laden with dress bags. “Your highness, why aren’t you in the dressing room?” Her brows draw together in a frown when she hears the giggles coming from the other side. “What are those bitches up to now?” she mutters.
Hayley has been the one high note on this godforsaken trip. Genuinely kind and fun to be around, she has been my personal attendant for the last two years. My brother, Kedar, felt I had been too isolated since our father passed away and having someone close to my own age would help. I don’t quite remember how it happened, but we became friends almost instantly, even though I know my father would have frowned upon it. The giggles in the next room die on a gasp and I lift my head, squaring my shoulders, as I walk in to face my tormentors.
If Hayley has been a bright spot, these women have been dark shadows, reaching out to shake my confidence at every turn. Kedar assigned them to ‘help’ me look and act presentable at my birthday ball, which is going to be an amazing party – for all the guests, that is. For me, it’s basically an auction block where all the bidders can see what they’re getting in a princess bride.
Not that I’m the real prize. The real prize is my brother’s favor, his wealth and connections and the ancient lineage that makes us one of the oldest royal families in the world. I’m merely the key. Or the crown, I suppose.
I school my face the way I’ve been taught since birth and pretend I haven’t heard these vipers talking about me. It’s no worse than the ‘gentle criticism’ I’ve endured these past months from these two. Laela and Alexandra, or LeeLee and Lexie, as they’ve styled themselves, further setting themselves apart from me. I’ve never had a nickname. Our father didn’t like them, having decreed that no one should think of anyone in our family casually or presume any kind of intimacy.
Never let anyone close.
Never show weakness.
And friendship is weakness. Love is weakness.
This trip is about strength, a show of power to our cousin who has designs on my brother’s throne.
Laela casts her eyes down, nodding as I pass her. Alexandra clears her throat. “Highness.” I can still hear the laughter in her voice. “Which dress do you wish to wear for tea?”
I could wear a burlap sack for all I care. And I don’t delude myself into thinking Alexandra cares either. As the granddaughter of one of my brother’s advisors, all she cares about is getting closer to one of my two brothers. I don’t suspect she cares which one, although I believe she’s partial to Kedar. He’s the one who controls the purse strings, and his wife will be queen. I’m certain “Lexie” views this trip as her chance to catch his eye. I pick up my phone and scroll through my calendar, trying to recall what day it is today. All of my days here have blurred together like one of those books with tiny pictures in the corner, the one with pages you flip quickly to make the illustrations move. Oh, today’s tea is one I wanted to attend, for one of my mother’s favorite charities, the New York City Ballet. I still remember being here with her as a child, attending the fantastical Nutcracker.
“Perhaps that blue dress, Hayley,” I say, ignoring Alexandra.
“Of course, Highness.” Hayley heads for the rack of afternoon dresses, only to stop when a discreet knock announces the arrival of midmorning refreshments. A woman in a crisp black and white uniform pushes a cart filled with pastries and fruit into the room, before setting up the table. I’d missed breakfast and nothing is scheduled until the tea this afternoon, so I’d better eat now because soon I’ll be in the throes of hair, makeup and dressing me up like a doll to be paraded around, smiling but never offering anything of any real substance. Hayley is already at the table, plucking the fresh mint I love into a glass with ice and lemon. I reach for a bowl of berries and add a generous dollop of cream, before catching Laela’s disapproving gaze as she steps up next to me.
“Dairy contributes to blemishes, Highness,” she says, her lips set in a thin line.
“Luckily, the princess doesn’t have any blemishes to worry about,” Hayley chimes in.
“Yes, well, we’re the ones here to advise her in matters of health and beauty and too much fat isn’t good either.” Alexandra points at the fruit. “Minimal fruit, and egg whites are a better choice.” She sweeps an arm at the clothes. “These are perfectly tailored, and you don’t want any more alterations before the ball.”
I put my dish down, despite my rumbly stomach. Alexandra is referring to the fact that my ball gown needed to be adjusted from the last fitting I had in Dubai six months ago.
“The princess needs something to hold her over until the tea this afternoon.” Hayley picks up my bowl and adds an extra dollop of cream before passing it back to me. “You don’t want to be starving at tea. Those sandwiches are so teeny tiny.”
“Her brother—”
“My brother isn’t here right now,” I cut in, hating that they talk about me as if I wasn’t even in the room. “And I need some fresh air.”
The women fall silent, with Hayley shooting a furious glance at the others. It’s not often I speak up but I’m so tired of all of this. Every time I walk into a room, it feels like I’m stepping onto a battlefield.
I wave them away as they fall into line, ready to accompany me. My two scowling shadows and Hayley, who appears to be as annoyed with them as I am. You’d think as a princess, I’d have a say in who my attendants are, but just like in my choice of husband, I have no say. Tears suddenly fill my eyes, and I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, stemming the burn from spilling over. If my training was good for one thing, at least I know how to hide my emotions from everyone. Today, however, it’s hard to find my composure. I know what the press is saying about my imminent betrothal. I know what they’re saying aboutme, the pale, plump, personality-devoid princess who has none of her mother’s charm or beauty. Which is kind compared to another site that flirted with treason by floating the idea of me being some sort of foundling taken in by the royal family as an infant, because what other explanation was there with two ‘incredible specimens’ like my brothers, a mother who was a fairytale princess brought to life and the ruggedly handsome king who could have been a movie star.
Gag.
Not that I’m supposed to use slang. Or swear. Or do anything unbecoming of my family name.
