The Controversial Princess (Smoke & Mirrors Duet #1)(4)
“You look . . . lovely,” Victoria says dubiously, while Phillip shakes his head in dismay.
I smile sweetly. Like them, I can be falsely gracious, too. “Thank you for coming.”
“Adeline.” My father’s younger brother, Stephan, approaches, and this time my smile is genuine.
“Uncle Stephan.” I throw my arms around him and hug his tall, lanky body tightly. “How awful has it been?”
“Holed up in here with the King while waiting for the guest of honor to arrive? Truly thrilling, my darling.”
I laugh softly and break away from my favorite uncle, straightening out his round spectacles as I do. “Thank you for coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss my niece’s thirtieth for the world. I’ll even endure this circus for it. Be grateful.”
“I am.” I greet his wife, Sarah, with a kiss to each of her pale cheeks. She is dutifully at his side, but the marriage is a sham—just for show—because Uncle Stephan’s sexuality is one of the best-kept secrets in England. “Although I’m not sure I’m the guest of honor.” I point across the room where everyone has gathered around the King and Eddie. Eddie’s arrival home is cause for celebration too, and I’m not the least bit bothered. Anything to divert the attention. “Lieutenant Colonel Lockhart,” our father announces, clasping Eddie’s upper arms with his big hands. “I’m proud of you, my boy.”
Eddie soaks up the King’s rare display of affection, smiling brightly as he salutes. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Father laughs loudly, presenting him to the family who have gathered around. “Like his grandfather, his father, and his older brother, Edward is now a Royal Marines Officer, the elite of the elite.”
Everyone claps, including me. Uncle Stephan lowers his mouth to my ear. “Notice I didn’t get a mention? My dear brother, the mighty king of this prosperous land, can hardly bear to look at me. The homophobic old fool.”
I smile, glancing at him fondly. Poor Uncle Stephan has to live a lie, so not to rock the stable monarchy. “Run away,” I suggest, not for the first time.
“And forgo my monthly allowance?” He snorts in displeasure. “One barely survives on the peanuts the King throws one’s way now. Besides, I live in luxury for free, and my wife has long given up trying to turn me. I’ll carry on sneaking around and keeping my communications team busy. It’s entertaining, if nothing else.”
“You are a rogue, Uncle Stephan.”
“Pot, kettle, dear niece. Pot, kettle.”
I smile, this one natural. I love Uncle Stephan. He understands me.
I watch as Father makes a big fuss of Eddie, but I can’t be anything less than happy for him. John’s always been the favorite, the faithful, reliable, conscientious one of the King’s children, and the perfect heir to his precious throne. John married who he was told to marry, the wonderfully compliant Helen. Eddie is a backup heir, and I’m a backup for the backup, and one our father has openly expressed he’s relived he’ll never have to depend on.
But whereas Eddie has been kept out of trouble since he joined the Marines, I have had no such distraction from trouble.
“And the birthday girl.” The King moves in on me, his suited body decorated with a sash displaying his many medals of honor.
“Father,” I breathe, ignoring his less-than discreet disapproving look at my attire. I bow a little before he embraces me in a hug. “You are late,” he says quietly in my ear. “And what of this nonsense walkabout?”
I peek across the room, seeing Sir Don, the King’s chief advisor and Lord Chamberlain. He takes his job very seriously, informing the King of . . . everything. “News sure does travel fast around here,” I say under my breath, noticing Sir Don watching me with predictable disapproval in his eyes. “Maybe, Your Majesty, an impromptu walkabout from yourself every now and then might go down well with the public.”
“Do not test me today, Adeline.”
I brush off the King’s scorn and paint on my smile, ready to face the guests invited to celebrate my thirtieth. It’s all rather marvelous, but I’ve been here for twenty minutes and still haven’t had even a whiff of champagne.
We’re all assembled around my father and mother, in the usual, neat fashion, just inside the opposing French doors that lead to the topiary-filled gardens, where fountains trickle peaceful water at every turn, and the lawns look artfully painted, not a blade of grass out of place. The whole palace is perfect, just like the Royal Family.
Breathing in, I widen my smile and straighten my shoulders as the doors are opened and the crowds, many of whom I will not know, all clap and smile in greeting. Father and Mother both roll their wrists, slowly waving, as we stand at the entrance, a united front, letting everyone here receive the honor of marveling at us for a few minutes.
At the first sign of movement from my father, I break away and swipe a glass of champagne from the closest tray. “Fed up already?” Eddie asks, pulling his green beret off and smoothing down his dark blond hair. I’m the only one of the three of us who inherited our mother’s Spanish looks. John took Father’s fair hair and blue eyes, and Eddie fell somewhere between the King and Queen Consort, his hair dark blond, his eyes hazel.
“It is a farce, really, is it not?” I sip my champagne as I watch our family break off in various directions, being accosted by guests, who are all simply dying to shower the royals with compliments and praise. I laugh to myself. They’re all monarchists, the best of the best when it comes to licking royal arse. There won’t be any anti-royalists here. Oh no. We keep those bastards well away. Though I’m secretly smug that they are not so anti-royal when it comes to me.