AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I may have read and researched all of your work. I hope that doesn’t affect your opinion of me.”
“Only for the better.” I laugh. “Gosh, I realized I didn’t ask anything about you or your meeting. How was it?”
“Very good. Some people from a European delegation, we gave them a presentation and video-chatted some field offices. They gave twice the amount we expected.”
“Congratulations! That’s amazing.”
Our food arrives, and we take our time eating and chatting. When the waiter comes by with the check, I realize it’s already four. Time with him flows so easily.
“You have to go back to the office I’m sure, right? But I’ll see you at home.” I’m preparing myself for disappointment.
Cedrick stands up and offers me his hand, and he winds his fingers through mine as we exit the café. Tingles spread up my arm from the contact.
“Well, I was thinking. I could play hooky the rest of the afternoon. Want to take a walk in the park?”
“I’d love to.” I take a deep breath, my thoughts whirling as I wonder like a schoolgirl if the man I like is genuinely courting me. Only in this case, he’s my husband.
19
CEDRICK
In the grand hallway of the palace, on a visit to check on my father and give updates on the charity – and my love life, I’m sure – the face of King Francis himself, about two decades younger, looks down at me.
“Why would anyone commission this?” I ask myself, shaking my head.
It’s a gaudy pop art portrait, painted in neon hues. He’s dressed in a fur coat about two centuries too old and holds a scepter in his right hand, his face lit in pink, violet, and orange color blocks.
The thought of commissioning a painting in this style makes my brain nearly explode. An ordinary portrait is bad enough. Even photoshoots can be a bit much for me.
They’re a necessary evil for the foundation, but for the Royal Family? It seems like an exercise in vanity.
As I walk down the hall, there’s a jeweled basket of fruit, a Faberge creation that my father always loved. The banana is gold, while the apple is studded with rubies. There are blueberries in sapphire and grapes in jade and amethyst.
He made our personal quarters as a family quite cozy for my mother’s preferences, but for his own purposes, he’s always loved the pageantry of the position.
There’s no question who I took after. My mother always presented herself as if she were the most ordinary woman despite being a Queen.
I think about what my life would have been if I weren’t a royal, and immediately I get an image of meeting Ellie within the hospital walls or a field tent.
I’m finding that every bone, tendon, and synapse in my body is pulling me toward thoughts of my wife. I wonder if we’d flirt or if we’d avoid each other. Maybe we’d be academic rivals in medical school. Would we date? Maybe we would fall in love.
A light giggle echoes through the long hall, and the clatter of feet follows.
“Someone’s feeling better, I see! Here to visit Grandpa?”
“Uncle Cedrick! Hi!” Isha, my seven-year-old niece, runs over to give me a hug.
I raise her up with her arms outstretched like a bird, and we nearly knock the bowl of fruit over.
“Hi, sweetie. It’s good to see you.”
“Isha! Careful! You’re going to break something.” Ishmael’s smile betrays the stern warning. He clearly adores his little girl. “You be careful, too, Cedrick.”
He and Liza, his wife, approach holding hands, and he looks up at the painting of Father.
“It might be for the best if somehow that got broken.” He points to the brightly hued painting.
“You said it, not me. That’s all I need, for Dad to think I desecrated a royal painting somehow.” I place his daughter back on the ground and run my fingers through my hair, feeling beads of sweat on my forehead.
