Page 44 of Scandal Queen

“Shit, is she drunk?”

He shrugged, his face guarded. “I heard her clatter down the stairs. She moves fast.”

“Do you want to bring her in? I could make her a coffee.”

I didn’t really want John in the apartment. The bloke was a sleazeball, albeit a royal one, but I couldn’t help but offer. “Ollie’s asleep.”

He smirked. “Funny that you call him Ollie. No one else would have dared.”

“It was Daisy who started it.”

He nodded at me, speculation swirling in his gaze.

“Shall I go and wake him up?” I asked. Bella seemed asleep. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel her skin. My alarm bells jingled but John’s face told me it wasn’t my place.

He snorted with derision. “He won’t help.”

“What are you talking about? Of course he will. I’ll just go and grab him; it will be easier with both of you.” I motioned to the dead weight Bella pressed into his side.

“Oh, Leia. You are so bloody innocent. I can almost smell it coming off you.”

“I can assure you I’m not.” I pulled in the edge of my pyjama top realising I stood in front of the middle prince in not much more than a pair of knickers and a vest top.

He gave a small shake of his head and then hoisted Bella up, so he held most of her weight.

“What was she doing here anyway?” I asked as he managed to turn them both back to the pathway.

“She just misses her brother.” He shrugged and I watched them walk away.

Well that was weird.

I went back into the apartment and slipped back into bed unable to stop myself from wondering just what was going on around here.

Eleven

“Does this look okay?” I turned and took in the view of the dress in the full-length mirror.

“I don’t remember there ever being a time when you gave a shit about such things.” Molly frowned but I stuck my tongue out at her.

“I’ve never gone anywhere where the whole word will be watching and waiting for me to fall over.”

Emilia stepped back and looked at her creation. “No one is waiting for you to fall over, Leia.”

I smiled at her. The dress she’d designed, which the palace seamstress had run up for me, was beautiful. A pale rose-gold it shimmered when I moved. Demure and discreet it gathered in pleated folds from my waist while my back and arms were covered in a see-through gossamer.

Her sentiment was misplaced through. There were a whole lot of people waiting for me to fall over. It had been a week since we’d arrived here, flown back from Cornwall, but I could sense the predators waiting for me to fall.

Marcus bemoaned the headlines daily: Royal lover kept in comfort at the public’s expense had been yesterday’s.

The points remained low.

The palace at Oliver’s request had confirmed a ‘royal acknowledgment of Prince’s committed romance’ but my move into the palace with Daisy, which had supposed to remain a discreet secret until more than a week had passed, hadn’t remained secret for long. News got out it seemed, no matter where you lived.

Oliver had kept the papers away from Daisy and me, but Molly had no qualms about keeping things real. Public outrage at frivolous royals had been the one to sting. Oliver couldn’t be less flashy if he tried. Sure he had the cars, the security team; but we didn’t even have our own cook for our apartment and so far I’d given Vanessa Croft, my supposed lady-in-waiting, very little to do. Honestly, I didn’t want her, it seemed ridiculous, but apparently having staff to help with one’s needs when one lived in a palace was the rule. But then I hadn’t left the palace yet… yet…

Daisy looked up at me from Molly’s lap. Her dress was black velvet and utterly adorable. Tonight, the three of us would go to the Royal Variety Performance as a family.

So long as no one saw me puking with nerves into my handbag it should all be okay.