A Royal Engagement: The Young Royals Book 1 (20 page)

The office of Speaker was currently held by Lord Charles Bingham, the Duke of Monterey and Meredith's father, which was of benefit to me because I would be sure to be given a fair hearing, but was also a problem because he couldn't support me by voting in my favour.

The House was brought to order and the members moved to take their seats.
 
I was ushered to a visitors bench and sat uncomfortably on the leather seat to await my turn.
 
I watched in terrified fascination as the Lords argued one point or another in their attempt to get different bills passed.
 
They were nasty, degenerating to name-calling on several occasions and theatrics frequently.
 
Lord Bingham had his hands full in trying to maintain decorum among these privileged, but immature, school boys.

All too soon, it was my turn to speak.
 
I was to make a case for myself to ascend to Head of State, as every heir was required to do.
 
Usually it was a simple formality, but in my case nothing was simple.
 
I stood and walked towards the podium.
 
I spoke the traditional words of petition and then the Speaker opened the floor for discussion and questions.

The Prime Minister was the first to speak, "I have to make it known that I have reservations about this situation," he said, "We have never had a female Head of State and there is no precedent for such a thing.
 
We need a stable, firm and reliable leader and I do not believe that a young, twenty-something girl fits the bill."

There were murmurs of ascent from the ranks of men, regardless of what side of politics they fell on.
 
It may be the first time that these two parties had agreed on anything.

Lord Bingham motioned for me to make my rebuttal.

"While I understand your concerns," I began, my voice wavering with nerves, "I can assure you that neither my age nor my gender has any bearing on this appointment.
 
I was born and raised a St Benét and I have the experience of centuries of forebears to fall back on, not to mention the very real experience of being raised by arguably one of the best Kings to have ruled our small country.
 
I am also university educated with studies in International Relations and have a good understanding of the political climate of our region.
 
I may be twenty-four and a female, but I am also capable, intelligent and reliable."

"But you have not lived here in over four years," another of the members yelled from his bench.

I nodded, "That is correct, but Merveille is in my blood and I want the best for her."

Jordan's father, Major General Elijah Wicks, stood to his feet and waited patiently to be acknowledged by the Speaker.

"Princess Alyssabeth," he began, "You have certainly gown into a fine young lady, I'm sure we can all agree.
 
You are indeed intelligent and educated, and while you are young, no one denies that you have had a stellar upbringing.
 
But the fact remains that you are female and we have never had a female Head of State.
 
While we don't deny your fervour for our dear country, being that you are female puts some restraints on the role you can successfully hold.
 
The idea of becoming our Head of State may be a pretty bauble for you right now, but what about when you change your mind or something else comes along to catch your eye.
 
What about when you meet someone and fall in love?
 
Men have the ability to keep their feelings separate from their business, but we all know that that is not the case for a woman.
 
I bet every man here can attest to a time when his wife's emotions got the better of her.
 
And if you do successfully fall in love and marry without it affecting your role as Head of State, what about when you have children?
 
Surely your interest will wain then and you will want to spend as much time with them as possible.
 
And what of your husband?
 
Even without the children in the equation, what role is he to play?
 
His he to fulfil, what would traditionally be, the Queen's duties?
 
Meeting with the Ladies of the Court while you discuss Crown business with the Lords?
 
And how is he meant to be the head of your household, as all good husbands should be, when you are, in effect, in authority over him?"

I stood there completely dumbfounded.
 
The man spoke with eloquence and aplomb, but his words were condescending and patronising.
 
His disdainful view of women was medieval and draconian.

"On the other hand," he went on after a small pause in which the entire House was silent, "If you were to marry and were willing to allow your husband to take the role of King and therefore our Head of State, then there would be no reason for us to deny your ascension to Queen."

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.

There was a rousing clamour of agreement from he other Lords as the General took his seat.
 
I made a pretty good impression of a gold fish as I tried to make sense of what he was saying.
 
The Speaker banged his gavel to bring the House to order and I cleared my throat as I took to the podium again.

"So, what you are saying," I croaked, "Is that if I marry a suitable man who can fulfil the footsteps of my father and brother, you will approve my petition to be Queen?"
 
I threw up my hands in defeat.
 
"And if I refuse?"

The General smirked at me and shrugged his shoulders.

"Shall we take a vote?" Lord Bingham asked, "All those in favour of granting Princess Alyssabeth her petition of ascension, say aye..." there were a couple of half-hearted ayes of which Lord Bingham noted, "All those opposed?"
 
This garnered a far greater reaction and I felt my stomach drop.

Lord Bingham banged his gavel once more to bring order to the ensuing noise.

"Princess Alyssabeth,"
 
he intoned, "You have thirty days to appeal this decision or to provide us with your intent to marry." He banged his gavel and then moved on to the next order of business.

Jordan was waiting for me when we arrived back at the palace.
 
I raced past him, up the stairs and in through the doors, jumping into the elevator before he could stop me.

I was mad.
 
So mad I wanted to scratch someone's eyes out.
 
I stormed into my suite, through the sitting room and into my bedroom.
 
I pulled off my clothes and pulled on my Levi's and t-shirt, along with my riding boots and a hoody.
 
I needed to go for a ride.
 
I needed the wind through my hair and the fresh air in my lungs.

"Alyssa," I heard Jordan call from the sitting room.

"I don't want to talk to you," I yelled back.

He came to the door of my bedroom and leant against the doorjamb, "Please, Alyssa, tell me what happened."

"You know very well what happened," I ground out, "They denied my petition because I am a woman.
 
So unless I can come up with a reason why that shouldn't matter in the next thirty days, or get married, then I won't be Queen."

His lips tugged in a small smile, "So, let's get married."

I stopped my tantrum and looked at him like he was insane, "What did you just say?"

He walked towards me and took my hands in his, "I said," he lifted his hand and brushed a stray hair from my face, "Let's get married."

"Are you kidding me?" I yelled, pulling my hands from his and stepping away from him, "Don't you understand?"

He looked genuinely puzzled, "No, I don't understand what the problem is.
 
You need a husband and I can be that for you.
 
I love you Lys, don't you know that?
 
If we get married, we both get what we want."

"No," I said, "We don't.
 
If I get married, I have to give up being Head of State and let my husband have that role.
 
That is not getting what I want."

"Don't you love me?" he asked.

"That is not the point," I growled at him, "The point is that I am the heir to the throne and I should be the one to sit on it."

"But you still get that," he said, "You get to be Queen and I'll even change my name to St Benét so that the tradition of your family continues.
 
I don't see the problem."

"The problem," I said, "Is that I will be handing over my birthright to you and that is not what I want.
 
Why should it matter that I am a woman? And why the hell can't you support me in this?"

"I'm offering you a solution," he said, his anger finally becoming known, "That is being supportive."

"No Jordan, that is serving your own political agenda.
 
Is that what this whole relationship has been about from the start?
 
You just want me because of what I can do for your career?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed, "I thought we were heading down the aisle anyway, so why not achieve two things at once.
 
You need to get married in order to become Queen and I can do that for you."

He came towards me again, but I batted his hands away, "Leave me alone, I need to think," I said, racing out of the room.

I ran past my body guards, who looked a little worried, but I signalled them that I needed some space, so they stayed where they were.
 
I raced down the corridor and opened the first door I came to, it was a stair well.
 
I jogged down the stairs, rounding each landing and continuing down until I came to the bottom.
 
I pushed out of the emergency door and found myself in the yard near Mistborn's stable.

The wind whipped through my hair and pulled at my clothes, the sky rumbled with thunder and the rain beat down.
 
I ran across the lawn to the stable and walked inside the dim space, taking a big breath of hay and horse.
 
Mistborn stood tethered and saddled, an unusual occurrence, but one I didn't think too much about.
 
I gathered the reins and swung up onto his back.
 
He snorted and danced under me, not happy that I had taken control of him.

I turned him towards the stable doors and urged him on.
 
He jumped out into the storm like a racehorse from a gate and we took off towards the paddocks.
 
I gave him his head, gripping with my thighs and threading my fingers through his mane.
 
He was fast and his thundering hooves combined with the stormy weather had a cathartic effect on me.

I had been angry enough to spit bullets when I left Parliament, but after talking to Jordan, my fury had consumed me.
 
How dare he offer to marry me like he was sacrificing himself on the altar for me.
 
He knew what was in it for him, he'd probably known before I had even left for the meeting.
 
He and his father had most likely discussed the best way for things to go and had come up with this plan weeks ago.
 
And I had fallen hook, line and sinker for it.

I couldn't believe how gullible I'd been.
 
I had leant on Jordan after losing Father and Jacob and he had taken advantage of me.
 
I should have listened to Carlos when he tried to warn me, but my damn stupid heart had betrayed me.
 
I thought I was falling in love with Jordan, but now I was finding out it was all a lie.

A bolt of lightening streaked through the sky followed almost instantaneously by a loud crack of thunder.
 
Mistborn, spooked by the sudden brightness and loud noise, reared, throwing me from his back.
 
I tumbled through the air and landed hard, hitting my head and then the world went dark.

Chapter Fourteen

I was dreaming.
 
It wasn't the first time Will's face had a appeared to me in a dream, it was the first time, though, that he had been dripping wet.
 
His face filled my entire vision, the edges soft and blurred.
 
The light was soft, like the tail end of twilight and a soft breeze ruffled the dark curls that haloed around his head.

"Will," I whispered and smiled, reaching up to touch his face.

His eyebrows were pulled together in a frown and his clear, blue eyes full of concern.
 
I preferred the dreams when he smiled, when he looked at me like I was his everything.
 
Now he looked at me like something was wrong and I didn't like it at all.

My hand cupped his jaw, the rough whiskers rasping against my palm.
 
He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand.
 
This dream was much more tactile than anything I'd previously experienced and I relished the warmth of his skin on mine.
 
My eyes fluttered closed and I sunk back into darkness.