PRINCE CHARMING: A Stepbrother Secret Baby Romance(5)

Pascal stood beside him, frowning. “Planning how to ruin your father’s parties?”

“No, actually, just wondering about this Olivia, is all.”

“Soon-to-be Princess Olivia. I think they’ll add a nice appeal to the palace. Bring some life back into it,” Pascal nodded. “Add a feminine touch.”

Quincy frowned. “I happen to like it just being us men.”

His servant raised a brow and straightened. “That’s not what your face says, sir.”

“And what does my face say?”

“That you are dying to talk with that woman again. But first, your father has requested you meet him in his study. He would like to go over what is expected of you the next few months.”

Quincy groaned. He hated when his father held his little meetings. As if the crown prince didn’t already know what to do. He just didn’t want to do it. There was a difference. His father was worried about the wedding plans, and the last thing Quincy would do was ruin his father’s happiness. Drive him insane as all good sons should, yes, but not ruin the wedding.

He ate the rest of his mango and walked out of his room. He passed several more servants in the halls. They stopped and bowed their heads as he passed, and he smiled and greeted each and every one by name. He’d been taught to do that since he could talk. He might be a rebel, but he did not go so far as to mistreat the household. Never piss off the person who did your laundry or made your bed. That was just asking for trouble.

A few bodyguards stood outside his father’s study and opened the door for their prince as he approached. “Father,” he said, bowing his head. “You wished to speak with me?”

“Ah, yes, come in. Have a seat, Quin.”

Quincy moved to sit in front of his father’s grand, hand-carved desk. It had been at the palace for generations and was as old as the place itself. Quincy had always admired it, just like he admired the man who sat behind it. Well, most days. His father stared at several papers laid out before him, mumbling under his breath.

“Kings do not mumble,” Quincy said, earning a glare from his father.

“And princes do not tell their kings what not to do,” he said, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “Nearly finished.” Quincy leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, slouching. “I can still see you. Sit up straight before you hurt your back.”

“I don’t know… I’m quite comfortable.”

His father’s pen scratched across the heavy paper as he signed it. He pressed a button on his desk. A moment later, a door to the right side opened and the king’s second in command, Marcel, appeared.

“My Prince, Quincy,” he said, bowing his head to him, then the king. “The announcement is signed and ready?”

“Yes, but hold onto it for a moment, please. I must confer with the prince on several matters.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Marcel said. He exited the same way he entered.

As the door closed, Quincy’s eyes narrowed as he turned to his father. “Confer with me on what?”

“The wedding.”

“Your wedding? I think you want to speak with your future wife on those matters, Father. I’m afraid I don’t know the first thing about place settings or flower arrangements.”

His father sighed as he got to his feet. “I meant your wedding, Quin.”

Quincy sat up as he stared at his father. “I thought we’d been through this. I’m not ready.”

“That is not for you to decide anymore,” Lamont informed him. “Quin, you are twenty-three, the perfect marrying age. There are plenty of suitable bachelorettes ready for you to take their hands, many of whom are daughters of very powerful and very wealthy parents.”

“I thought it was the twenty-first century. Why do I still have to have an arranged marriage?”

“The year doesn’t matter when you’re royalty. This is your duty, and I expect you to do it.”

Quincy crossed his arms tightly over his chest, flashing the tattoos his father disapproved of, especially the one on his hand of a skull with tropical flowers coming out and beneath it. “And if I refuse?”

Lamont leaned on his desk, making sure he looked his son in the eye. “Then you will not only fail your king and country, but you will shame the memory of your mother. Quin, I love you, son, but it’s time to step up and become the prince you must be for our country.”

“By marrying someone I don’t like?”

“I have selected a few for you to look at. You have met all of them at least once,” Lamont commented and reached into his desk drawer. He pulled out several folders and handed them over. “I expect you to make a decision and invite that woman to my wedding in three months.”

Quincy stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I am no longer at an age to have children, and neither is Melinda. For this line to carry on, you must marry and bear sons. I’m sorry, but this is what it means to be a prince. Now then, to other business.”

“Sure, just like that,” Quincy snapped as he tucked the folders under his arm and stood. “I know what my duties are, Father. I will see to it that Olivia is given a rundown of what is expected of her. Will you force her into marriage as well?”

Lamont didn’t speak but handed over another sheet of paper. “This is the list of events over the next few months. You both are expected to attend. Show her what she will be required to do.” His father sat back down at his desk and started to read over more papers, leaving his son to stand there.