Royal S.O.B. (A Bad Boy Romance) (24 page)

Addie
never got up from bed the next morning.

Every
bone and every muscle in her body was aching. But more than the physical hurt,
the emotional pain was excruciating.

She
had gone totally wrong. Terribly, unpardonably. Addie, who was the most careful
person on the planet. How could this have happened to her? It was not an error,
it was not a mistake, it was the most colossal blunder of her life. How could
she face herself in the mirror?

This
wound, she knew, would not heal so easily. Even time, who was the ultimate
healer, would find it tough.

Everything
that she'd feared, had happened. Everything that happened to hundreds of women
before, had happened to her. Everything that should never have happened, had
happened.

What
was the big deal about her, anyway? For someone like Kenrick, from his powerful
position, all women looked the same. Felt the same. Even fucking them was the
same experience.
And she was just like the rest. Fucked and discarded. Thrown out of his
four-poster bed, just as he had declared. Shame on her!

In
one terrible aspect, she was worse off than the rest. At least the other women
could run away from him with their bodies and egos bruised. But she was unlucky
– she could not! She had to live with him in the same palace, and even see him
and interact with him often – as if nothing had happened.

This
would be torture!

*****

The
previous evening, after the marathon sex session (she thought it was
lovemaking, but it was not), Kenrick had left before her. He had flung her
clothes at her face, and asked her to get the fuck out of there.

Addie,
still wondering if he could be so rude to someone he was 'dying for', had no
clue what to do. It was already getting dark outside – yes, their session had
lasted well over three hours. The entire Gallery was empty; there was not a
soul in the premises. And she needed to get out – before she was discovered in
her state of disarray. That would definitely be a scandal, involving her for
the first time, and she wanted none of that. She shuddered to think what her
mother would have had to go through.

Gathering
her wits about her, and her things, she quickly got into her clothes, picked up
her bag and stepped out of the private cubicle. The empty corridors and halls
put the fear of the unknown in her. And getting out, the fear of the known. All
that was needed was any palace official to spot her; in fact, she dreaded,
Kenrick might have even planted someone strategically to catch her coming out.

Fortunately,
there was none of that. She walked out and took the detour via the workers'
quarters to her chambers. This was as much as to avoid running into anyone on
the main route, as to walk through what resembled her neighborhood where she
used to live.
  

It
was the second time she had used it as a thoroughfare. And now, being evening,
the place was livelier: Children were playing, the women were out for a walk
with their babies in prams, and the elderly were sitting on benches lining the
avenue. There was chatter everywhere. There were birds flying home in
formation. There was life there.

She
sighed. For all her lofty thinking and loftier ideals, this had to happen. From
what heights had she fallen, and from where she had reached!

As
she walked by, surprisingly alone from their point of view, everyone stood up
and curtseyed. And in spite of her delicate state, she nodded at all of them,
and had a smile for each. They knew that she was a simple middle class girl, so
they suspected that she had a soft corner for them. They were not wrong.

This
was a lesson for her, she ruminated. A bitter lesson for someone who only
talked but never walked the talk. To her, it seemed destined to occur, a timely
if tough reminder for her to stay grounded, to not take this royalty circus
seriously.

As
she entered her chambers, Mrs. Bradford came running to her.

"I
was worried, my child!" she said, concerned.

Addie's
pathetic state would never have missed her keen eye.

"I
left a note," the princess said as explanation.

"I
got the note, but you said one hour," replied the old lady.

"I
didn't know if it was proper to come and look."

No, it wouldn't have
been
,
said Addie to herself.

And glad you didn't
come.

She
went straight to her bedroom and fell on the mattress. That was as far as she
could hold on. She must have fallen asleep at once, and she slept through for
the next sixteen hours straight.

She
was lying on the bed half-awake when Mrs. Bradford came up to her.

"Good
morning, my child," she said cheerfully.

"Morning,
Mrs. Bradford," Addie mumbled.

"How
are you feeling now?" the old lady asked.

"Why,
what happened to me?"

"You
seemed to be so tired, sleeping like a log since last evening," Mrs.
Bradford explained.

"I
tried waking you up for dinner, but you were just groaning."

Addie
groaned once more and turned on her side.

"Let
me sleep some more," she sputtered.

*****

"Addie!
Addie!" Someone was calling her.

Groggily
she opened her eyes. A face was in front of her, blurred. Gradually, like a
camera focusing itself, it became clearer. Cate.

"Addie,
are you okay?" she was asking of her friend.

"Yes,"
Addie replied.

"I've
been ringing you since last evening," exclaimed Cate.

"And
since you didn't reply, I spoke to Mrs. Bradford. She told me you were unwell,
so I came straight away to check on you myself."

Addie
didn't say anything. She just reached out and held her friend by the hand, then
she pulled her towards herself, and hugged her tight.

Without
saying a word.

"So
that was how the pompous bitch was taught the lesson of her life."

Kenrick
was telling his best comrade about his own life's biggest sexcapade.

They
were sitting in the prince's chambers, breakfast was done, and there was plenty
of time to kill. For the past two hours, Pat had listened to the nitty-gritties
of how, according to Kenrick, the shrew was tamed and how, at each stage of the
process, he had the upper hand. The latter's 'gory details' went overboard. He
sat quietly as Kenrick had droned on and on. It disgusted him.

It
had been three days since it'd happened, and there'd been no more contact
between them. Addie, of course, was the aggrieved party and hence, could not be
expected to stay in touch. Kenrick, being the aggressor, couldn't care less. As
far as he was concerned, yet another episode was over, yet another woman down,
and that was that. He had to move on.

"Say,
Pat," Kenrick thumped his friend on the back.

"How
about taking off on a tour? Let's do the continent."

Pat
was too preoccupied to answer at once. His mind was full of the hapless Addie –
what could she be going through.
That
girl must be shattered
, he thought.

Maybe
he could find out from Cate later; of late, he had been exchanging calls and
messages with his childhood friend. He always had a crush on her, and now their
paths had crossed once again. Who knew–

"Pat!
What, are you lost, man?"

When
Kenrick appended 'man' to a question, it meant he was furious.

"Yeah,
Phantom. Sorry, I was…"

"Yeah,
that I could see!" he snapped.

"Are
you commiserating over that full-rounded bitch, by any chance?"

Kenrick
was accurate, of course. But no way Pat could agree with him.

"No,
I was just… So what about that tour?" Pat's presence of mind kicked into
action.

"Yeah,
I was saying. Let's go to mainland Europe. It's less crowded in this part of
the year."

*****

That
was how their fifteen-day European tour happened.

It
was a habit with Kenrick: He said Europe, but his only destination was France.
Their itinerary would be Paris, Nice, Cannes and the Riviera. But mostly he
would be in the capital, eyeing the fashionable femme fatales that crawled the
city like ants on a molehill. There he could pick and choose, use and throw.

Of
course, he never revealed his royal credentials – employing them only when
deemed necessary. Mostly he went by his own physical qualifications – looks,
charm and dick, though not always in that order – and more often than not, this
armory did the trick for him.

Pat
found these trips monotonous. He did have a roving eye, in good measure, but he
thought he was far more choosy and conscientious. Not for him was a bargepole
in a skirt and top, which worked for Kenrick. But then, Pat was no cock
machine, either.

But
this time, Kenrick did not seem his usual arrogant self. He snapped at Pat as
always, but something was amiss. Nor did he bother much with the girls, too.
That, in Kenrick, was a major departure.

Kenrick
found himself brooding more than usual. He was sitting up in bed and thinking,
resembling a sick man, or lazing in the easy chair with newspaper in hand, but
not reading. Or he would be at the window of some unknown hotel (helps with
anonymity), its glass pane latched up, and gazing out at the street scene.

*****

It'd
been seven days since their arrival in Paris. And it'd been one week since
Kenrick had stirred out of his hotel room. Pat, of course, went around town a
few times, even picked up a girl once. In contrast, his friend seemed to be an
alien from another planet this time.

Even
the prince could not place this erratic behavior in himself. This was Paris,
the home of the young and beautiful – and the hotbed of the brave. The place he
always called his second home. The place where he had the hottest sex. Paris
was all this and more. Yet, none of that excited him now.

He
tried to trace the roots of his melancholia. He hated to admit it, but it had
to do with Addie. But he could not pinpoint the emotion –
was it guilt at the treatment he had meted out to her?
Or was it
something else?

It
was true that Addie's face had been haunting him throughout. That innocent
expression, bereft of any malice. It was like a baby's face, he thought, and as
vulnerable. It was like a tender petal, or a thin film of glass… You wouldn't
want to break it, he noted. And yet – he had smashed it into smithereens.

Addie's
visage followed him wherever he went. In fact, it had begun back when he was at
the palace; that was why he wanted to get away in the first place. But the
haunting face chased him across the seas. There was no peace for the haunted.

He
was sitting by the window, open now, purportedly gazing at the life moving
outside on the streets of this romantic city. But his eyes were not seeing
anything, and his brain was registering nothing. Because Kenrick was away, back
in his palace, back in the Royal Gallery, back in that private cubicle. And he
was with Addie.

Suddenly
he sat up. A piercing thought had stabbed him like a knife.

Could he be in love
with Addie?

That
was a kicker. Of course, he had pooh-poohed love as a spineless emotion meant
only for sissies. But how else could he explain his unpleasant disposition,
this constant depression?

His
equally arrogant mind now turned inwards.

Kenrick
, he demanded of himself.

If you are in love, you
need to accept it first. Be man enough to acknowledge it.

"Phantom!"

That
was precisely when Pat walked in from one of his walks around the place.

"Phantom,
are you there?" He sounded more excited than normal.

Pat
came running to the prince and thrust a newspaper into his lap.

"See
this!" His thin index finger pointed to a news article with a photograph
in it.

Kenrick
looked at it disinterestedly. Whatever it was, however earth shattering, this
was hardly the time for it. He said nothing, in contrast to Pat's enthusiasm,
and his eyes wandered around the newspaper without seeing anything.

"Phantom,
have a look!" Pat was egging him on.

Then
it registered. It was Addie's picture.

Suddenly
he was interested. He grabbed the newspaper and brought it closer to read the
headline.

From Royal to Commoner:
Princess Adelaide Sets up Charity

Underneath
was Addie standing next to the logo of her newly formed charity organization.
There was a royal entourage in attendance, and the media.

Kenrick
glanced through the article.

Apparently
the princess, who was a commoner herself till she became a royal by relation,
had wanted to do something for the common folk for a long time. Now she'd taken
the first step and had set up an organization that would bring with it a
structured program. The objective of the charity was to work for the poor and
underprivileged, especially those on the fringes of society…

"Well,
Phantom," exulted Pat.

"What
do you think of it?"

"Nothing,"
he replied. He flung the paper away.

Pat
picked it up and walked out, wondering what was up with his best friend. What
could be causing him such prolonged consternation?

Kenrick
kept sitting there; now his mind had even
more
things to think about.

What
was Addie up to? Was this her way of getting back at him? Was she doing this to
gain publicity, and to trump him? Maybe she wanted to promote her goody
two-shoes image, and contrast it with his image of a rogue and rascal. This
needed more thought, he told himself.

For
all his aggression, Kenrick was an honest individual. He was not double-faced –
what you saw is what you got. If there was something inside him, it would come
out sooner or later. And in this case, it was sooner.

Yes, I'm in love
, he confessed.

I'm in love with Addie.