Of course, it’s easy to say in hindsight that you can change things. Quite the opposite, really. I was about to find out big time. I wasn’t prepared, god knows who can be prepared when at ten you fall for a princess. It was a story your mom or dad read to you as a fairy tale. Something you grow out of. I wasn’t a teenager for goodness’ sake, so no excuse there. My dad said I had great taste. My mom said I’d move on. There was no future in that dream. That was twenty-six years ago. Today, I still love my Princess. Does she love me? That’s the big question. It’s all about protocol and what others dictate. The old fairytales never mentioned so much angst, unless there were wicked witches and dragons. I would prefer fighting dragons over not knowing how she feels about me. Is it possible to love and be loved by a princess? I was about to find out!
“Princess, His Highness requests you assign fifteen minutes from your schedule tomorrow and meet him in the drawing room.”
Sophia watched as her father’s private secretary, Henry Torvois, a wiry man with a pale complexion, wiped a finger behind a pristine white collar.
“Really, only fifteen. I would have thought my recent escapades warranted at least sixteen, Henry.”
Henry blew out his chest. “His Highness was specific. He also mentioned that it must be between nine to ten am.”
Sophia frowned. “Of course, nothing must interfere with my dear papa’s golf schedule.” She shook her head, turning to the window providing a view of the south gardens. Immaculate as always, they probably had always been that way through the centuries. She wondered how many trysts had occurred there when a garden meant something in social circles.
“I will inform His Highness of a time?”
Sophia didn’t turn; she could imagine he was weaving his hands together, waiting for her reply. A typical Henry trait when he spoke with her. Anyone would think she made him nervous.
“So be it. You can advise Papa that I will be in the drawing room for an audience at precisely nine-forty-five.” Sophia turned and gave Henry a hard gaze. He looked annoyed. “Any problem with that? You did say he only wanted fifteen minutes.”
Henry shook his head. “No, Princess.” He marched out of the room.
Sophia returned her gaze to the garden, a mass of blooms. Her late mother had had a penchant for flowers. Her father had provided her with an area earmarked for whatever she desired. He even hired a personal gardener for her, rather than the contract hires he used for the rest of the property. Though that was now a thing of the past. There had been an exodus of staff since Sophia had returned home from traveling the world three years ago.
Her phone rang, and she pulled her cell from her pocket and looked at the caller ID. Smiling, she pressed the green answer button. “Claire, I’m surprised to hear from you this early. You were totally drunk at ten last evening.” There was a muted laugh on the other end of the phone.
“Says, she who was as drunk as a skunk, ending the evening with her Jag in a ditch. Thank god your father is who he is. No one is going to prosecute you for drink driving.” Claire giggled.
“Maybe they should,” Sophia mumbled.
“What! Don’t go all pious on me, please!”
“Me, pious, hardly. Papa wants an audience with me tomorrow at some god-forsaken time in the morning.” Sophia sucked in breath. Her gaze moved to the circular water fountain. Whenever she watched the spouts of water flow from the beak of the stone swan, it made her warm inside.
“Oh, midday. Not too bad.”
“Not midday. Before ten.”
“Oh, girlfriend, that’s cruel. Doesn’t he know you have a heavy social life that must be adhered…” A female voice in the background drew Claire’s attention from her. “Got to go, Soph. Danny has just arrived to clean the house. She has one beautiful ass; I love watching her work. Tonight, at Dominico’s around seven and then Tremont’s for supper. I’ll book the table, will that work?”
“Yes, I’ll see you there.”
†
Abigail Ranger gazed at her mother. She looked pensive. Abigail clasped her hands tightly together before venturing toward where her mom was sitting.
“I miss your dad, Abby, especially now.” Her mom’s countenance became sad.
Abby moved at lightning speed to engulf her in a hug. “I know, me too, Mom. Is there something else?”
She pointed to a box on the table. “It’s finally arrived.”
“I see.” Abby walked over to the box. About a foot long by eight inches wide. Finally, three years later. She caught her mom’s expression, grief written all over her face. “How about we put the box away until the time is right.”
“I agree. Though your dad waited so long for this to be sent home. I’m sure that was part of why he succumbed to COVID. He stressed so much about your sister.”
Abby drew her mom close. “Never! Dad wouldn’t have left you for anything.”
“Thank you, Abby, for always being practical. Without you, I could never have continued the tenure. That would have broken your dad’s heart, more than it was already.”
Abby tried not to tense, but her body had other ideas.
“I’m sorry, my darling.” Her mother kissed her cheek. “His family have had the tenancy of Osric farm since…”
“1758. Mom, I’m going to work like a person demented to keep up our family tradition.” She hugged her mom closely.
“You already do, always have. What life outside of the farm do you have?”
“I catch up with friends when I can. Besides, I love the farm.”
“It’s the anniversary of the family Tenure. The head of the household meets with the Crown Prince for permission to lease the land for another twenty-five years.”
“Well, that’s not a problem. Have you made an appointment?”
“Yes. Abby, I need you to do this. You are our future.”
“No, Mom. Nope.” Abby moved like lightning to the door leading to the laundry room.
“I’m not going, Abby. It’s up to you now. The appointment is for eight-thirty.”
In her thirty-six years, she had only seen His Highness and the family at tenant yearly gatherings. She had never spoken directly to him, never.
“Please, darling. I heard that there may be financial problems at the castle. They have been reducing staff for months now.”
“Mom.” Abby shook her head. “COVID hit everywhere in the world, hard.” Her mother began to cry. “I’m sorry.”
“All I ask is that you meet His Highness and agree on the new Tenure.”
“I will. I need to wash up before dinner.” Abby frowned as she left the room. God, what will I say!
