Royal S.O.B. (A Bad Boy Romance) (15 page)

"The
royals do have a thing to do with the servants."

Kenrick
stepped inside and closed the door instantly.

He
was seized by a panic –
what was Princess
Adelaide doing here?
And with that old hag in tow.

Why
, he wondered. Were
they doing some kind of guided tour of the palace property?

Shit
– what an embarrassment! This had turned out to be one misadventure that was
ill timed. If only he had stayed put in his chambers! Now he didn't know where
to hide, or how he could ever show his face to his stepsister in the future.

Things
were already a mess, and they just got messier. Here he was trying to build his
bridges with the princess through all possible means, and then this had to
happen. Kenrick had simply no idea how to handle this one, the latest in a
series of disasters.

That
was when he realized the two women were still there, standing in front of him.
And that they were still naked.

He
felt a kind of revulsion. He tried to shoo them away, as if they were two cats
waiting to pounce on him. Petrified by his antics, they huddled together and
moved to the far end of the room. He must have looked completely mad, because
they ran to hide under the lunch table.

Kenrick,
indeed, seemed to be losing his head. For several seconds he just stood there,
his mind going blank. He was breathing heavily.

Eventually,
he turned back and slowly opened the door a slit. He looked with one eye
through that slit – there was no one. Carefully, he opened the door wider and
put his head out, then looked left, then right.

All
clear.

He
wondered about Princess Adelaide and that old woman hanging around her. Where
could they have gone?

He
opened the door fully and stepped out on tiptoe. Looking all around in a hurry
– though there was no one as far his eye could see – he moved to slip into a
side door and escaped.

*****

Kenrick
was panting as he entered his chambers. His chief assistant started coming
towards him in a hurry, wondering if he needed something, but he waved him
away. The last thing he wanted now was to have people asking him how he was,
why he was breathing hard, and where he'd been coming from.

His
chief assistant caught up with him anyway.

"Your
Royal Highness," he began.

"Just
shut up and get out of my sight!"

Kenrick
could not stand him, especially at that point.

"Your
Royal Highness, Princess Adelaide–"

"What
in bloody hell is her problem anyway?!" Kenrick yelled at the top of his
voice.

Deep
inside, he was freaking out. What did the princess say or do now? Did she
reveal the truth about where he was; what – or rather, whom – he'd been doing?
She was new to the ways of royalty; she may have told these assholes
everything, you could never tell.

That fucking bitch, was
she stupid enough to spill the beans?

Kenrick
could not afford that. He already had too many blotches on his character, and
some of them went all the way to the king himself. And he'd already received an
earful from his father a few weeks ago – thank God it was in his private
chambers. He did not want another scandal brewing to reflect badly on his
progress card.

He
walked in, his mind in severe consternation.

He
had no clue what to do, or where to go. He sat at his desk. That was when he
saw it: A note.

He
picked it up. Under the emblem of the royal family were a few words, appearing
as pearls floating on the alabaster sheet:

Your Royal Highness
Prince Kenrick,

I'd come to your
chambers to meet you, but you were not present.

Sorry to have missed
you.

Thank you for your
invitation,

Princess Adelaide

That
night, Addie turned to the new confidant in her life: Mrs. Bradford.

They
were about to retire for the day when Addie said something that sparked off a
conversation between the two of them. Of course Beverly Bradford, gentle soul
that she was, would never indulge in such a chat on her own. It was all Addie.

It
was a chance remark that got things going between them.

"Ah,
so that was an eventful day," is what Addie said.

"Especially
for Prince Kenrick."

And
with that, she pulled her sheet over herself – she was already in bed. Mrs.
Bradford, who was waiting by her side, tucked the princess neatly in and drew
the satin curtains all around her four-poster bed.

"Yes,
my child," replied the old woman in her usual style, and Addie thought
that was the end of it. Her governess was prone to agreeing with whatever she
said, so this could be one more such instance.

But
boy, was she in for a surprise, because that off-the-cuff remark seemed to have
burst open a floodgates of emotion in the governess.

"It's
a bit like that old saying 'the early bird gets the worm'," offered Mrs.
Bradford.

"How's
that, Miss?"

Addie
was curious, and she was surprised at this preemptive comment from the old
lady.

"Dear
child," she sighed.

"The
bird wins praise for being early, but who spares a thought for the worm?"

Interesting
, mused Addie.

"The
worm," continued Mrs. Bradford.

"Had
to pay with its life for being early. If it had slept a little longer, it would
have stayed alive that morning."

"Wonderful,"
commented Addie.

She
never expected such wisdom from kind, quiet old Mrs. Bradford. Her respect for
the governess increased manifold.

"But
how would you link this with Prince Kenrick having an eventful day?"

"Well,
for Prince Kenrick, it must have been an ordinary day," she replied
calmly.

"But
think of those two unlucky women. What kind of a day would it have been for
them?"

Addie
fell into deep thought.
Yes
, she
agreed,
for the prince it would have been
just another day
. One he would soon forget about. But the two women who'd
been given hell – at least, that's what Addie assumed – they would remember
that day for the rest of their lives.

"These
are the games the royals play, my dear," informed Mrs. Bradford, as if
concluding her train of thought. It was rare that she spoke as much as she was
doing right now.

"Yes,
Mrs. Bradford," agreed Addie solemnly.

"Which
is why, my child," the governess was saying.

"I
want you to take good care of yourself around Prince Kenrick."

Addie
considered this.

"But
I'm his stepsister, Mrs. Bradford," she replied, with some hope.

"Do
you think, my dear, that makes a difference?" the governess asked.

"And
he's my stepbrother."

"It
might mean something to you, my child. But not on the other side."

Addie
sat up, pushed the curtains aside, reached out to the old lady's hand, and
firmly clasped it in her own.

"My
dear Mrs. Bradford," said Addie.

"With
you by my side always, what could possibly happen to me?"

The
old lady gave a sincere smile.

"Well.
This old governess's protection can only go so far. I'm worried about the times
when I'm not around."

"And
for those times," Addie's clasp on Mrs. Bradford's hand got firmer.

"This
little girl will be extra careful. Okay?"

"Okay,"
agreed Mrs. Bradford, smiling.

"Good
night, my sweet."

"Good
night, Mrs. Bradford," replied Adelaide, unclasping her hand.

*****

For
some reason, sleep was avoiding Addie.

She
was twisting and turning in bed, falling into a mild slumber and then waking up
for no reason at all. And her mind was racing.

In
contrast to her jolly exterior, the events of the day impacted her deeply. The
prince's appearance from nowhere, the naked girls appearing shocked inside, the
prince swearing at them, and the sheer suddenness of it all.

What
kind of a person would do something like that? What kind of sick mind would
mete out such treatment to his hapless workers? And, to top it all off, what
kind of
royal personality
would
subject his own people to such a third degree?

To
know that he would become the king one day filled her being with a feeling that
was beyond revulsion, past pure disgust.
If
this was royalty, how could you blame the commoner for base behavior?

She'd
read in the tabloid press that Prince Kenrick maintained a 'c**t counter' – the
number of women he had been with. And apparently, so said the tabloids, it ran
into the thousands already. The prince was only in his late twenties, which
meant he still had over three decades of virility left in him – at least. Which
meant thousands more were still to come, to be added to his roster.

What if he got married?
The question popped in
her head.

Well, that would
probably not change much
, she answered herself.

He
would go from prince to king, from being eligible to wedlock, but his lifestyle
would not change one bit – of this Addie was certain.

Blame it on his super
cock
,
she laughed silently.

For
a moment, in spite of her obvious dislike for the prince, she contemplated that
big cock.

How big could it be
, she wondered. How
large is large?

She
closed her eyes trying to picture it in her head...

Suddenly,
she felt herself growing wet between her legs.

It
surprised Kenrick to no end.

If
Princess Adelaide had seen him in that hugely compromising position, there was
no sign of it in her note. Not even a word – or hint – of bitterness. It was
civil to a fault; she'd even thanked him for the invitation, and it looked like
his wild sexcapade never happened.

Could
it be possible that she had not witnessed anything at all? Maybe, just maybe,
she was too dazed to register anything – it'd all transpired very quickly –
thank God he'd shut the door at once! And as for the old woman, well – surely
she was too much of a blind hag to even understand what was going on.

Was
this scenario conceivable at all?

Kenrick
knew he was desperate and was hoping against hope. It was like the proverbial
last straw for someone on the verge of death. Anything, even a strand of hair,
could be a rope of hope, and this could be the escape route for him.

But
he knew, in his heart of hearts, that it just could not be. It was clear as
daylight that he was caught with his pants down, in a manner of speaking; there
was no doubt what business was being transacted there. No sir,
he
was the guilty party, there was no
two ways about it.

And
now, he realized with a heavy heart, his attempts at getting closer to Princess
Adelaide would be that much harder. Any goodwill in his account would have now
vanished, he thought; then again, any goodwill in his account was unlikely. He
had not done much good to earn any brownie points in the first place.

It
was most ironical, this situation. He was plagued by thoughts of Princess
Adelaide; she was the one who took away his peace of mind and snatched away his
sleep. It was thanks to her that he had even thought of a 'revenge romance'
ploy like this one. It was because of her that he had to vent his anger on
someone, to punish some women with his machismo, to drop his semen of fury in
some pliant vagina somewhere. And now, that itself had turned back like an
uncoiled snake and struck him.

In
turn, he'd been punished with merciless exposure – to the same person whose
favors he was seeking. What could be more severe than this! He just sat there
at the desk with his head in both his hands.

Now what?
he wondered.

What
was he to do now? Should he renew his invitation again? But to be fair to
Princess Adelaide, she had already accepted his earlier invitation and come to
his chambers. If he was away again at one of his exploits, what was she to do?

A
flurry of embarrassment came over him. He had no face to invite her again. In
fact, there was no way he would meet her again – okay, that was a huge
statement – but definitely no meeting her in the near future. This whole affair
was so pathetically ugly, he felt like running away and hiding somewhere –
perhaps in some other country.

If only Pat were here!
The same thought came
to him again.

Pat
would have known how to handle a sticky business like this. In fact, if he was
here today, this nonsense would never have happened at all. That bastard had to
go at this time; he was never there when Kenrick needed him the most.
Bitterness filled his being like water filling a glass.

Yes,
surely that would do the trick. Maybe he needed to get out for the time being.
Everything possible was going wrong for him, and if he got into any more
trouble, it would reach his old man and that could spell even further disaster.

*****

Next
morning.

Kenrick
had had a disastrous night. Lately, his nights were mere echoes of other
nights, sleepless and restless. What was happening to him? Where did that
happy-go-lucky, carefree prince vanish? And in his place, who was this boor,
this moron, this whoreson who was the antithesis of Midas – everything that he
touched turned into a tragedy?

Though
he had thought the night before that leaving the country was a practical
solution to all his troubles, the morning after brought the prince a whole new
perspective. For one, he did not want to leave without having reconciled the
Princess Adelaide situation. For another, running away from problems only
multiplied them – he had learnt this the hard way. Best was for him to stay
put, but lie low, till the winds of catastrophe blew over, and the dust
settled.

That
seemed like a sensible course of action. Meanwhile he needed to lighten himself
up; he needed to get it all off his chest.
 

"Pat."
He was on the phone, long distance.

"Phantom!
What a surprise!"

Pat's
boisterous tone was enough to brighten up the chamber.

"How's
your adventure going?" asked Kenrick.

"Pretty
good," came the reply, sensing something was up.

"But
I'm at a point where I can abandon it for a dear friend who needs me."

"Then
do it."

*****

Pat
arrived that night. It was late, and Kenrick was not allowed to go to the
airport as usual, so he waited it out at his chambers.

His
friend was in by about one.

"Ah,
the Phantom waits for me… the ghost who walks."

Pat
brought instant sunshine with him, even if it was the wee hours of the night.

"Pat,
so glad to see you!" Kenrick said, giving his friend a hug.

"Same
here, old chap," replied Pat.

"Just
give me time to have a wash, then I'm all yours."

*****

Ten
minutes later, they were sitting in the chamber. Pat was all ears, and Kenrick
was all set to give his friend the lowdown on events leading up to his latest
restive phase.

A
full three hours passed. In the interim, Kenrick appraised him of everything,
including the calamity that happened in the servants' breakroom.
 

"That
was terrible!" Pat exclaimed.

"Yes,"
agreed Kenrick.

"Of
course," added Pat.

"You
can't be blamed for it. It was just bad luck."

For
the first time, Kenrick felt good. Here was someone who understood the exact
predicament he was in. That was why Pat was his best mate – the only one he
had.

"Then
of course the mystery of her note, and the forced civility in it," Pat added.

"Yes."

"It
means just one thing. She's a tough nut to crack."