Page 95 of Scandal Queen

I regretted saying I wouldn’t leave by five pm the following day. Christmas Eve took on a new context.

Turns out that the King of Norway doesn’t just send a tree for Trafalgar Square.

He sends one to the King too. For the palace.

The Queen’s tradition is making Ollie, John, and Bella decorate it.

“Is he safe up there?” I absentmindedly grabbed the bauble Daisy handed me, not even stopping to admire how delicate and fine the glass ornament was. My attention was focused on Ollie and the fact he balanced precariously on top of a ladder.

“Sure, sure.” Bella’s fingers plucked at the blanket tucked over her legs. She seemed to be twitching a lot, and part of me wanted to press pause on the evening—to tell everyone to stop what they were doing—because my radar, telling me something was wrong, beeped loud and clear.

But then, The Earl of Leicester was legless, and he created a diversion from the niggle of worry in the back of my mind.

“Ah, the pretty princess to be.” He almost landed on my lap as he thudded onto the sofa, showering Bella and I in sherry.

“Leia.” I smiled politely while trying to edge my skirt out from his arse.

“Lovely to have a breath of fresh air. That other woman was a frightful brown noser.” It took a moment for me to realise what other woman he was talking about, but of course, it was Charlotte Macclesfield. I’d never met the woman, but I hated her with considerable force.

“Well I try.”

He leered closer. “And you grew up on a council estate, did you? How very interesting.”

“Hmm.” I tried to use all the training the Queen and her team had given me to maintain protocol at all times, but it was no easy task.

“And your mother, a drug addict they say?”

“Uncle!” Ollie called down from the tree.

“Oh, just saying. It’s all out there now for the people to know.” He quaffed back more sherry. “We can’t hide that one now, can we?”

“There isn’t much to hide.” I sat up straighter and Bella moved under her blanket.

“And what’s wrong with you, little princess? A touch of the flu is it?” The Earl leered at his niece and my stomach turned.

I could see now that the normality of the immediate royal family stemmed from the Queen. The Earl of Leicester, the King’s brother, had a stick up his arse so long I couldn’t believe it didn’t pop out of his mouth as he talked.

“Just the flu,” Bella told him and I frowned in her direction.

Funny flu.

The Earl opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the sitting room opened and Cartwright came in, his face grey and drawn.

My stomach dropped in reaction.

What had I done now?

Marcus walked straight to the King and showed him something on his iPad and then the King’s gaze flickered to me.

I wish I’d chosen a sherry now after all.

“Oliver. Please come here.” The King barked and Oliver grumbled all the way down the ladder. I watched, my stomach in knots, as he walked to his father and ‘I’m Such a Prick’ Marcus Cartwright looked at the iPad.

“I told you that the crown would deal with the issue, and now Leia can be seen in an unsafe area without security. ‘Leia runs back to past from luxury of palace’.” He almost barked the headline.

The King didn’t look at me. Oliver received the full brunt of his anger. The Christmas cheer evaporated from the room quicker than you could say, ‘pass me a mulled wine’.

I’d been spotted at the flats yesterday.