A Royal Engagement: The Young Royals Book 1 (19 page)

I looked up at her, "Do you know any local designers?" I asked.

"Ooh, that's a great idea."
 
Then she turned to me, "And I think you need a bit of a makeover.
 
Hair, nails and makeup."

I huffed out a breath, but I couldn't turn her down now that I had just spent time assuring her that I would take her suggestions seriously.

"Okay," I said.

"Tonight," she said, "So that tomorrow when you go to Parliament we can reveal the new you."

I sighed, but agreed.
 
I probably wouldn't be able to sleep tonight anyway, not with that meeting looming over me.
 
Spending the night with the girls sounded like a great way to forget, just for a little while, that my future as Head of State hung in the balance.

Bridgette cut several inches off my long dark hair.
 
It now fell to the middle of my back, rather than to my waist and the heavy bulk of it had been lightened by a few choppy layers.
 
I also now sported three different colour foils, all expertly blended so that they gave my hair movement and highlights, well that's what they told me anyway.
 
The effect was a subtle brightening overall - darker underneath with lighter highlights on my crown.

Annette had been experimenting with different makeup looks and we had all had too much to drink and way too much to eat.
 
But we laughed and bonded and for the first time in a long time, I felt like my old self.
 
It was nice to have girlfriends that I could trust.

Along with the makeup and hair, I'd gotten a manicure and pedicure.
 
Savannah wanted me to try acrylic nails, but I put my foot down.
 
We compromised on a manicure with shellac to keep my polish looking fresher for longer.

Jeanette had taken the opportunity to educate me on Social Media and, although I wouldn't be allowed to actually post anything myself, we agreed on how to brand my public identity.
 
I wanted to be taken seriously, but I didn't want to come across as elitist or out of touch.
 
I was still a twenty-four year old woman, after all, albeit a powerful one.

Priscilla schooled me on how to approach Parliament and everyone weighed in on their opinions regarding a female Head of State.
 
I was happy to know that these women, at least, supported me.
 
All of the women present, except my maids Bridgette and Annette, had been living outside of Merveille and had grown up with the belief that women could have equality.
 

"What do you think?" I asked, turning to my two, quiet maids, "Do you think the Queen should be able to rule in her own right?"

They shared a look before Bridgette spoke up, "It's what we all dream of, isn't it?
 
As little girls we imagine what it would be like to be Queen.
 
But the reality is that there can only be one."

"Yes, but little girls can grow up into scientists and scholars and prime ministers and CEOs and small business owners," I said.

"And some of them just want to be mothers and wives," Annette said quietly.

"But that's my point," I said, "We should have the choice.
 
If you want to be a wife and mother, then I want that for you without judgement.
 
But if you want something different, then you should have that choice.
 
One is not better than the other.
 
We need the wives and mothers, but we need the business owners and scientists too.
 
The most important thing is that everyone, whether male or female, get the same opportunity to achieve whatever it is they dream of."

The room was quiet when I finished my little speech and I looked at each one of the women in my circle.
 
It was a sobering moment, and not the first one I'd had that day.
 
The issue of me being Queen was bigger than just me, it would have far reaching effects for years to come - whether I succeeded in the ascension or not.
 
I may not even see a significant change in my life time, but I would sow a seed and be a catalyst for change.

It was why I'd wanted to work at the UN, so that I could be part of the change for the oppressed and down trodden.
 
I had never thought that my own small,
wealthy
, European country would need it, but the more time I spent here, the more I looked into what it would take to rule this country, I realised we did.
 
Merveille needed an intervention and I was best placed to initiate it.

But first I had to convince Parliament that I was the Queen they needed and I still didn't have a clue about how I was going to do that.
 
These men were set in their ways and undoubtably enjoyed their way of life.
 
For all intents and purposes, I was an outsider.
 
Yes, I was born here and, for the most part, grew up here, but I had never shown any indication that I wanted to make Merveille my home.
 
I had left to pursue my own career and had left the office of Princess in my wake.
 
Now I had to convince them that I was prepared to stay for the long haul and I was under no illusion that they would would be putty in my hands.

When I finally climbed into bed and the darkness of the night stole over me, I said a small prayer.
 
I just needed the wisdom to say the right things to convince them that my gender didn't have any bearing on my abilities and that they would be open to hearing it.

Chapter Thirteen

I started the morning with my usual jog around the grounds accompanied by my security detail.
 
I timed it, as always, to coincide with Will's cheese delivery.
 
I don't know why I did it, but for some reason I wanted to see him, even if it was only from a distance.

It was a miserable day and by the time we made I back to my suite, I was thoroughly drenched.
 
The forecast was for heavy showers and possible thunderstorms for the afternoon, which about suited my mood.
 
I was full of nervous energy and gut clenching anxiousness which in turn made me short-tempered.

Experts in reading body language, my security detail had picked up on my sour mood and were keeping their distance.
 
Even Meredith was quiet, not pushing me or demanding I pull my head in.
 
I knew I was being rude and obnoxious, but I didn't have the brain capacity to care.

I took a long, hot shower, letting the steaming water warm my rain-chilled body, and I felt marginally more human when I emerged.
 
The meeting was at ten and I had a little over an hour before I needed to leave.
 
Bridgette had delivered a breakfast tray to my suite, but I only nibbled at the fresh fruit, my stomach too uneasy to accept anything else other than coffee.

Savannah came to supervise my dressing and Bridgette and Annette did my hair and makeup.
 
I wore a fawn coloured, knee length pencil skirt with a crisp white shirt that had a big collar and a deep neckline that skated the edge of sexy.
 
Over the top I had a long, knit cardigan that hit mid-thigh and was the same colour as my skirt and on my feet I had nude Louboutin pumps.
 
My accessories were silver - a thin belt on my skirt and a chunky bangle on my wrist that complimented the silver bangle I always wore.
 
My hair was left down but with a tousled look (thanks to the new layers) and my makeup was subtle but with smokey eyes.

The overall effect was corporate but not stuffy.
 
There was definitely a youthful look to it without compromising my need to be taken seriously.
 
I liked it and finally felt that Savannah and I had reached an agreement on my image.

The room was practically silent as I was dressed and made up.
 
Everyone was either nervous themselves or picking up on my mood and it was an odd thing to be part of.
 
I wanted to break the tension, reassure them that everything was going to be fine, but I couldn't find the words.

Which didn't bode well for the upcoming meeting.
 
Being struck dumb in front of all those men was not part of the plan, but if I didn't snap out of the funk I was in, that's exactly what was going to happen.

Priscilla and Dominique breezed into the room when I was finally dressed and instead of making me feel better, it only amped up my anxiety.
 
They would accompany me to the meeting, although they wouldn't speak, and it should've been a comfort for me.
 
Instead it just added pressure and made me feel completely out of my depth.

I had fifteen minutes until we had to leave and I shooed everybody out of the room.
 
I needed a few minutes to myself, to find my equilibrium.
 
I stood at the window looking out over the grounds and took a deep breath.
 
From where I stood, I could see the separate stable and yard that Mistborn had been housed in.
 
He stood in the yard, his head held high like he was surveying his kingdom.
 
He moved his head slightly and I felt like he was staring right at me, daring me, egging me on.

I turned from the window and shook my head, damned horse.
 
Cliff was right when he said he was going to be a pain.
 
It was just like an Arabian to think that he was the ruler of his new home and his silent challenge of me rankled.
 
Why was it that all the men in this damned country wanted to make my life difficult?

The was a soft knock on the door before it opened and Jordan walked in.
 
He smiled at me and I felt a small measure of peace invade my heart.
 
He looked good in his military dress and even though I saw it all the time, I still admired the cut and fit of it on him.

"You need to relax Lys," he said coming over to me and taking my hands, "It will all work out, I promise you."

I exhaled in a huff and dropped my eyes.

"Do you really think so?" I asked, "Do you think I would make a good Head of State?"

"You'll make a great Queen," he said without hesitation.

I looked up at him and narrowed my eyes, "But that's not what I asked," I said, "I asked if I would make a good Head of State."

He sighed and shook his head as he ground his teeth together.
 
He dropped my hands and walked over to the sideboard that held a crystal decanter and matching glasses.
 
I watched, confused, as he poured himself a finger of scotch and downed it.

"You don't think I can do it," I whispered.

He turned to me and shrugged, "You're very bright and personable," he said, "And so very beautiful.
 
Everyone will love you."

"But, again, that's not the question," I said, this time through gritted teeth.

"What does it matter what I think?" he asked, "I'm not the one making the decisions."

"Maybe not," I replied, angry now, "But I thought you supported me in this."

He walked over to me and took my hands in his again.
 
"I do," he said, "I do support you, but I worry about you.
 
This is not going to be an easy thing and I'm concerned that the stress of it all will be too much for you."

I snatched my hands out of his and walked towards the door.
 
I turned back to him before I stepped through and said, "I am not some fragile, porcelain doll, Jordan, and I won't have you or anyone else tell me that I am."

I walked out the door without looking back.
 
At least now I felt the determination that had been lacking earlier and I could thank Jordan for that.

I walked into the House of Lords chambers and took a deep, steadying breath.
 
I had never been here before and the atmosphere of centuries of tradition was palpable.
 
The smell of leather, wood and cigar smoke permeated the room and the high sandstone walls and stained glass windows had the desired effect of intimidating me even more.

The meeting was not yet in session and the sixteen Lords, the Speaker, the Bishop and the Prime Minister mingled, the low murmur of male voices a reminder that I was probably the first woman to step foot inside the chamber in its entire history.

The members wore their robes and wigs and I, with my entourage and bodyguards, were immediately noticeable as outsiders. Yet another tactic to intimidate me, no doubt.

The House of Lords was made up of the Peers of the Realm, the sixteen Lords appointed by the Crown, along with the Bishop.
 
The Speaker and the Prime Minister straddled both the House of Lords and the House of Commons.
 
The Prime Minister would get to vote on any of the bills that were brought to the floor, but the Speaker refrained except in the event of a tied vote.
 
The role of Speaker was to keep everyone in line, ensuring that no one spoke out of turn and that the code of conduct was adhered to during sessions.