Chapter One
James
“Can you think with anything besides your prick, James?” Bloody hell, I’m in for it now. I can’t help it if the paparazzi are leaking old photos of me. Even if this one is awful. I’m getting sucked off in a club. You can’t see anything inappropriate, but anyone with half a brain knows what’s going on.
“The Queen will be over to have a word with you shortly. This is out of my hands.” For fuck’s sake. It’s never good when the Queen has to get involved.
“I’ll be sure to let her know it won’t happen again.”
My advisor, Charles, gives me an appraising look. His bushy white eyebrows are furrowed. I’m sure I’ve given him wrinkles early in life. I can’t help it if I like to have fun.
“Will it, though? This isn’t the first time we’ve seen this happen, and I doubt it will be the last. You’re first in line to the throne now. This behaviour is unbecoming of the future King.”
“You don’t need to remind me of my position in life.” My voice is harsh as I snap back at him. Ever since my twin renounced her spot in the royal line, all eyes have been on me. Before, my behaviour was considered cute. That of a playboy prince sowing his oats. Now, everyone has turned on me.
“Someone needs to.” That voice sends people scurrying to stand and bow. It’s still strange seeing Mum as the Queen. I stand, buttoning my blazer as I do. “You all can leave. I’d like a moment with my son.”
My advisor and his staff exit on a bow. Cowards. Leaving me here to fend for myself. Heading to the tea cart, I pour us each a cuppa.
“Thank you, darling.”
I take a sip, eyeing her with suspicion. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mum?”
“As if you don’t already know.” She sits on the velvet loveseat in my office. Everything here is velvet. Quite annoying really, considering I’m the future King and it’s decorated for an old grandmum.
“Why don’t you enlighten me?” I can’t help the cheekiness in my voice.
Mum sets her cup down on the coffee table in a huff. “James, this has to stop. You are almost thirty now. You can’t keep expecting people to excuse this behaviour.”
“It’s amazing how quickly they turned on me.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. Mum’s hair was always a dark brown like mine, but now there’s more grey peppered in. It gives her a regal air. But today, it’s just pissing me off.
“If you don’t start making some changes, and soon, I’ll be forced to take action.”
“You’ll be forced to take action? What the bloody hell does that even mean?” My voice carries as I push off the loveseat. “I don’t need you controlling my life.” Shoving my hands through my hair, I try to take a calming breath.
“You have yet to prove to me that you are capable of taking on even the smallest of duties that I was doing for your grandfather when I was your age. You are just not ready to be King.” Her voice becomes quiet as she mentions him. He died almost a year ago, but it still hurts to think about him. He was one of the best Kings England has ever seen, and I know Mum is doing everything in her power to live up to his standard.
“Maybe if you’d actually give me those duties to do, I could try. Have you ever thought of that?” My hands on my hips, I stare Mum down. I hate being questioned like this. “I’m already being held to an impossible standard.”
I know I’ve hit a sore spot when Mum rolls her eyes. “An impossible standard? You were allowed to run around with no regard to the crown and get away with it. Your sister was held to an impossible standard and look where that got us.”
“That was below the belt.” Ellie hated everything about royal life. The media. The people commenting on her every move and appearance. She’s much happier living as a private citizen, but damn, if that doesn’t hurt.
“It’s true. You need to be held accountable, James. And it’s going to start right now.” She pushes off of her seat and goes to leave.
“What do you mean ‘it’s going to start right now’?”
“I am not getting any younger, James. This position has a way of aging you before you’re ready. Dad did everything he could to prepare Eleanor for the crown, but now, I’m afraid I must do the same for you.”
“Mum. I’ll do better. I promise.”
She opens the door to leave. “Until you show me that, then I’ll continue with my own plans.”
Fucking hell.
The music is tooloud tonight. Club Mayfair has always been my favourite. I get special treatment here. All the free drinks, sexy women fawning all over me, and no press allowed inside. The scotch is doing little to quell my nerves. A blonde is sitting by my side, her dangerously long nails trailing up and down my thigh. It’s doing little to arouse me tonight.
