The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(116)



I nod, though I’m wondering if every other member of this family has received the same warning. So I’m being moved, but only from one prison to another. I still won’t be able to see Josh. The King’s priorities may have changed since this madness, but I haven’t forgotten that I was in the process of being shipped to Spain with Haydon prior to all of this. My mind spirals, questions and worry all blending together, causing a fuzz that is not allowing me to think straight.

“The monarchy has been pulled through the media shredder these past weeks.” Father flicks his eyes to David Sampson, who nods mildly, like he is encouraging the King to push on. “We need something to take the limelight off Edward’s incident. Some good news.”

He doesn’t need to go on. I know exactly what will be said next. Some good news. Like an engagement. My ribcage is sustaining some pretty brutal crashes of my heart into it, though I fight not to allow my anger and pain to show. I need to think on my feet. So now I will be used as a distraction from the negativity? Be pushed into a marriage with a man I do not love. Father will be killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. How very resourceful of him. “I understand,” I say, my voice calm and straight, though on the inside I am disintegrating. Words form in my head, all sensible words, my survival instinct kicking in. I need to buy myself some time.

I sit forward in my chair, looking directly into my father’s eyes. “I would like to go to Evernmore,” I say, and his head cocks a little, interested. The royal estate in the Scottish Highlands is as close as you could get to the wilderness in Britain, nothing within miles and miles. It’s where we spend our Christmases, and where the King and Queen Consort holiday. It’s where members of the Royal Family escape to when they need space. It’s also less of a fortress than any other royal residences. “I realize my role in the good news you speak of.” I sound so calm, and I honestly do not know how I’m doing it. “I’m asking for a few days to process this. To process my future.”

The King is rarely taken aback. But my lack of retaliation—my seeming compliance—has pushed him back in his chair, his eyes passing between David, Sir Don, and me. David, I notice, is also slightly startled.

“I don’t see why not,” Father says. I sag in relief, thanking him profusely in my head for giving me this little bit of freedom before he locks me up for my life sentence.

“I’m not sure that would benefit anyone,” David says, and I shoot him a look, enraged. “Let us just get on with it.”

“Two days,” I grate, turning my pleading eyes onto the King. “Just two days, Father. That’s all I ask.” I can sense David doesn’t trust me. I won’t let him sway my father’s decision, won’t allow him to take this gift from me. It feels like a hundred years while I wait for my father to decide whose side he is on, a hundred years of holding my breath and holding back my shakes.

“Two days,” Father finally says, making David grunt and me jump up from my chair in elation.

“Thank you so much, Your Majesty.” I round his desk and do something so out of the ordinary, dipping and kissing his cheek. “I will relish the fresh air and walk every trail in the loch you showed us as children.”

A smile from my father is an exceptional privilege, and so is any display of affection. I get both. He beams at me, tapping my hand where it rests on his shoulder. The easiness, I know, is only because I finally appear to be bowing to his demand, though I cherish it nevertheless. “Two days,” he affirms. “You can leave tomorrow morning. I’ll have the royal helicopter take you.”

“I’d rather drive.” I scold myself for my small protest. I shouldn’t be pushing him, but the drive to Scotland will kill more time. “Besides,” I rush on, “No need to give the republicans an excuse to criticize our spending habits.”

Father waves a dismissive hand as he takes a long draw of his cigar. “The costs will be taken from the duchy. They can’t complain about that. By air is safer, and I’ll hear no more of it.” Smoke billows from his mouth as he speaks, engulfing me in its haze. Coughing under my breath, I move out of the cloud and relent to his wishes, simply grateful for his permission.

“Thank you.” I back away, aware of David’s sour expression fixed on me, as well as Sir Don’s. I’d love nothing more than to toss them a victorious scowl, though I refrain, keeping my head level. They would have a ring on my finger this instant, and Haydon and me on the balcony of the palace soon after, presenting us to the world as a happy couple. David is desperate to be classed as royal by marriage and association, whereas Sir Don is simply an antiquated old fool who’s trying to uphold royal traditions.

I have no idea how I play this nightmare once I’m out of this office. For now, I just need to get away from here. I need to find myself, and even more than that, I need to see Josh. He’ll know what to do.





THE SHADOW OF THE HELICOPTER is a mere blip on the plains of barren land beneath us, growing as it glides over the hills, and shrinking when it dips between the valleys. And the noise, a consistent, loud whirring in my ears, has helped drown out my screaming mind. As the walls of Evernmore Estate appear on the horizon, far, far away in the distance, I hope for just a smidgen of ease to dampen the constant fretfulness plaguing me. We pass the Loch, the waters still and eerie, and the scattering of green is sparse. The beauty of this place is almost haunting, the landscape no different to hundreds of years ago.

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