Royal Line (Tattered Royals #1) - Carrie Ann Ryan Page 0,1
same boarding schools. Had all the same friends.
I’d leaned on her a lot after Mom died. And in turn had held her hand when her father passed away two years ago. I’d also threatened to maim and dismember Jamison Croft, the financier who had broken her heart. Or rather their engagement. But I knew her heart had always belonged to my brother, Wilder.
It didn’t matter how much Wilder doted on her like a little sister. Rubbed her head like she was one of the lads. She still looked at him like the sun shined out of his rear end.
I knew she couldn’t understand what I was doing or why I was doing it. Kate loved the pomp and circumstance of the court. And for the most part, I loved the tradition too. But some of the rules just didn’t make sense.
For so long, I’d wanted to please my brothers. I wanted to do all the right things. But there were moments when I felt like I was choking on all the right things. There were moments when I knew doing the right thing would require breaking a rule or two.
And tonight was one of those moments. I’d been given a photography assignment as a junior stringer for the BBC’s environmental division. I’d applied under one of my aliases. To them, I was London Smith. Plain Jane photographer from Sydney. For the most part we corresponded online, and nobody was the wiser. And I loved it.
By and large, if I was traveling out of Alden, I’d notify the team, tell them where I was going, and I would be given small assignments. It was always a bit tricky trying to do those assignments with constant bodyguards in tow. But I’d managed it pretty well for the last nine months.
But this was my first major assignment. I was being sent to Brazil to photograph Immanuel Sosa, the newest mayor of Sao Paolo, about his Green Earth initiatives. It was my chance to really prove myself. But somehow, Roman had gotten wind of it before I’d even been able to present my case.
I still didn’t know how he’d managed that.
A week ago, he’d come to me and told me not to even think about it. We had words, and then, like some kind of authoritarian dictator, he’d told me to know my place. My place. My brother, who I loved with all my heart, had looked me in the eye and told me it was for my own good to stay put. For my own good to do as I was told. For my own good to give up this dream. And I knew that I couldn’t.
It didn’t matter that I knew he was doing it only to keep me safe after we’d lost so much, but it didn’t make it right.
Mom had walked away from her dreams for love. Dad had given up his dreams for duty.
I was their fourth child. I had three older brothers. They had the duty thing down pat. And I knew my parents would be proud of me. Mom in particular. She’d always encouraged me to make my own way. Encouraged me to follow my own dreams.
But then they died.
And everyone had rallied around us like we had to be protected and, in my case, cosseted.
The most difficult part was that I knew Roman would be proud when he eventually saw the photos. He’d once told me my photos always reminded him of Mom. If I could just get to Brazil.
Kate must have realized I was making some good points. She tried another tactic. “Do you really intend on missing your own birthday party? Your aunt worked so hard on all the details to make them perfect.”
We finally reached the parking lot, and I sighed with relief. My roller bag was heavy, but God, my camera kit with every single lens I owned dug into my shoulder. “Kate, let’s be clear, she planned this whole party to impress King Gustav from Sweden. Remember three months ago when I said that I didn’t want to have a party and I would much rather have vacationed with my brothers and you? And she made that face that said, but King Gustav will be here this week. That it was important that we did something to commemorate his visit. It happens to look important if he’s invited to one of our birthdays.”
Kate winced. “Fair enough. Yes. This party is probably mostly for King Gustav. But you’re expected there.”