Someone’s Someone

by Curious Girl

I've always been someone's someone. I will always be known as the sister of. The sister of the wonder child; the sister of the Nobel prize laureate; the sister of Princess Anastasia of Romanov; the sister of the next Queen of England; the sister of the Olympian... and the daughter of Troy and Gabriella Bolton. But I am so much more. I am Josephine Bolton.

35. Chapter 35

The heir family Down Under: The Oxfords help Australia!

On behalf of His Majesty The King, The Oxford Family has made its way down under, to offer help, support and the deepest condolences. On their first day, the couple visited shelters and later on playgroups where they brought the adorable little princesses. The Duke and Duchess are planning to keep it very low key with no walkabouts or other public engagements. Their Royal Highnesses made it clear that this is not a Royal tour, it's a humanitarian visit.

Due to security reasons, the royal Mum and Dad won't go near the fires but they will do anything in their power to offer support otherwise. Their Royal Foundation called Oxford Royal has already raised over 3 billion pounds, which will be donated to local charities. The Oxfords are also planning to work in their other jobs to help out the exhausted surgeons at local hospitals.

Duchess of Oxford knits mittens for koalas whose paws were burnt in the bushfires!

Visiting a wildlife rescue centre in Melbourne, The Duchess of Oxford brought a box full of knitted mittens for koalas. Her Royal Highnesses kept a low profile with a khaki summer dress by Topshop and ballerinas from a local designer to boots the sales. She paired the shirt dress with the Australian flag and a Phoenix pinned to her chest. The phoenix is used as a symbol for rebirth, which is particularly appropriate when referring to ′rebirth′ after a fire.

Duchess Lorelai revealed that the mittens, were all handmade by her husband and herself while they were on the plane to Sydney with their triplet girls. The royal spent over three hours chatting with the staff, helping out and taking care of kangaroos, koalas and wombats while her husband was flying a firefighting plane as it was revealed in the evening.

Josephine

I adjust the placement of the dessert spoon just as Oliver comes home after using the gym downstairs. I'm actually glad he's getting used to our home and all it's advantages. After my fever the other day, we agreed to play it safe - meaning I stay at home and do light exercises within a save environment. Maria's out with Sergej again, they picked up Caio and Johna from their school before doing a London tour a la Sergej together.

I've set the dining table exactly the way the table at the King's birthday party will look like. "Not one, but three forks can be found to the left of the setting, and three knives will sit on the right. A desert spoon and fork lies above the dinner plate pointing in opposite directions, and there will be a total of four glasses: One for water, white wine, red wine and champagne.

I'm used to eat this way. I know the order by heart but for Oliver this will be completely new territory.

"Hi! Wow, what's all of this?" My husband asks me as he stares at the walnut dining table that has been transformed into something that could stand in the Buckingham Palace. There's a white table cloth covering the wood. In any royal setting, you will find floral centrepieces along the middle of the table which are traditionally low set. There will also be tall candelabras along the centre but I don't have that. The table setting is scary enough.

One shock after another.

His sweaty look gives me weak knees. "We're dining the Royal way tonight. I ordered us a five course meal from the restaurant downstairs so I can teach you exactly how to eat the Royal way."

"Ah, I see what you're doing. You're trying to ease me into this and get me ready for Friday." He runs his fingers through his beach blonde chin long hair that's full of sweat. His black shirt and shorts are sticking to his chiselled body.

I never found a sweaty man attractive until I met my husband.

His pheromones are filling my nostrils, they awake the desire within me. I lick my lips and nod, "Wash your hands and get changed into something more comfortable. This is going to take a while."

"When will the food be served? Do I have time to shower?"

"Twenty minutes."

He turns on his heel but suddenly turns around again and pulls me into a passionate kiss.

"What was that for?"

"Remember goodbye kisses as a rule? I think we should add welcome home kisses next."

I chuckle, "Good. I like that new rule very much."

I take another sip of my water as I read through my emails while I wait for my husband to return. The party is just a few days away, so it's time to introduce him how the Royals dine at official engagements. It's not going to be easy to learn all of this and we might have to practice a few more times before he gets it right but it's going to be worth it.

Because he will attend such events on a monthly basis at least now. That's what he married into.

"Okay, I'm ready for my lesson."

I look up from my iPhone and feel how my breath gets stuck in my lungs for a moment. His damp beach blonde hair is still wet from the shower. The blonde is the perfect contrast against his olive skin tone. His usual dark forest green almond shaped eyes glow in a sea foam green now.

And his grey joggers as well as the white T-shirt do the rest of the work.

Damn, I have one bloody good looking husband.

"Who's giving the fucking-me face now?" He asks me with a raised eyebrow.

I smirk, "Well, can't I feel attracted to my own husband?"

He walks over to me and wraps his strong arms around my waist before pulling me into a passionate kiss. "You certainly can, Mrs. Bolton."

I run my fingers through his damp hair. I really like the length of it. He looks totally lush. Gosh, I fancy him so badly.

I hope our child will inherit his genes more than mine.

"You wanted to teach me how to dine the royal style." Oliver reminds me.

I snap out of my thoughts. "Right." I turned around and gesture at the table.

"This is how it's going to look at the King's party?"

"Yes there will be a centrepiece in the middle of the table. Some kind of flower arrangement."

Oliver nods before eyeing everything on the table quite closely, "I think I need a written handbook for that."

I smile. "The forks are placed on the left of the plate. The fork furthest from the plate is for salad or entrée. The fork closest to the plate is for the main course, which is either fish or meat. The dinner knife is placed on the right side, next to and 2.5cm away from the plate. The blades must face the plate. If the main course requires a steak knife, it may be substituted for the dinner knife. The entrée/salad knife is placed beside and to the right of the dinner knife. If the meal also consists of a soup then that is placed beside the entrée knife. The dessert spoon and fork are placed at the top of the plate setting with each handle facing the hand that is using it. The spoon is used in the right hand for desserts and the fork is used to push any food onto the spoon with the left hand. A small bread plate is placed above the forks, above and to the left of the where the dinner plate sits. The butter spreader is laid on the bread-and-butter plate, blades facing in. The water glass is placed in a position closest to the hand, approximately 2.5cm above the tip of the dinner knife. The white wine glass follows and then a red wine glass – these are placed in a straight line parallel with the table edge or a diagonal line angled away from the table edge. A Champagne flute will be placed behind the wine glasses for toasting during the evening. The napkin will be folded the royal way as per the King's style and placed to the left of the setting or in the middle of the setting."

"I'm sorry what?" He asks me shocked.

I chuckle before starting again, "Napkin on the far left. Then come the three forks: salad, fish and meat. Above that are the bread and butter plate with butter knife. Next to the meat fork is the main course plate. Above that plate are the cake fork and the dessert spoon. On the right side of the plate are the knives for the meat course, the fish course, the salad course. Then come a teaspoon, a demitasse, a soup spoon and a seafood fork. Above them are the cup for tea or coffee as well as a demitasse. Lastly, we've got the glasses. Water, champagne flute, white wine, red wine, sherry."

Oliver scratches the back of his head, "And how am I suppose to remember when to use which?"

"When in doubt, you always go from the outside to the inside. Or you look at me."

"Why would anyone need so many forks and knives? And glasses! Why not just one for all?"

"Because they're royals and this is how it's done. All the fine china is being brought out. At the end of the meal, a bagpipe player is going walk around the table. The Queen has started this tradition with the bagpipe player and her son wants to continue it at formal dinners and parties." I start. "There will also be a menu book that was done by the chefs at Buckingham Palace. The book was send to the King and he chose the dishes he wanted at the party. The book will then come back to the kitchen and the chefs will prepare them. The King usually chooses one vegetarian and one seafood option besides a meat option which is usually an Argentine steak."

Oliver nods, "A steak sounds good."

"You've got to say Your Majesty first, after that it's sir. Not your Excellency or anything like that. Also not Charles. Never in public."

"Your Majesty and then Sir. Got it."

"Regarding to the fine china, the King eats his meal off a diamond encrusted plate. It is a marble dish with three gold horses. The dish is encrusted in diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Thirty-something years ago it was valued at 500,000 pounds."

"You're joking!"

"No."

"Along with platinum cutlery?"

I wave with my hand. "Don't be ridiculous. That comes separate. And it's not platinum , it's golden."

"Crystal glasses?"

I nod, "The Royals get their glasses with a diamond rim on the edges of the glasses. The rest of the glasses have a gold rim."

Oliver shakes his head in disbelief. "What else do I have to know?"

"There are special ways to let the staff know if you're not done eating. If a member of the royal family has to use the bathroom during an official function he or she's to simply say "excuse me" and not further explain where or why he or she's going. Before the person does, though, they'll cross their fork and knife on her plate if she's not done - that signals to the waitstaff he or she's still going. If you are done with your meal there's a special way to signalise that as well. In order to do so, they have to point the handles of their forks and knives at the bottom right of the plate instead of crossing them. That's "yeah, I'm done here" in Royal. And you should mirror that."

He scratches the back of his head before sighing, "I think I'm getting a headache."

I smile, "There's more. At a dining table, the royal family - and all their guests - is to fold their napkins in half and then, when needed, use the part inside the fold to wipe their faces clean of food. That's to prevent all their fancy clothes from getting stained. The fold also prevents anyone from seeing what a mess they made."

"Got it."

"There is an entire royal team dedicated to seating. They're called The Office of the Marshal of The Court and they place everyone in their official spots for royal dinners and other major events - no one ends up out of place."

"Are there name plates on the table?"

"No. Hence the royal team to help us find the correct seat. They are responsible for making sure that the guests are welcomed at the entrance, taken to the assembly rooms and presented to The Royal Family."

"And how's the seating plan decided?"

"If it were done by rank it would be a simple matter, then we would simply go by the Court Directory. But the royal team take other factors into consideration, such as interests, language, whether guests have attended previous official dinners and who they were sitting next to then. But naturally rank does play a part, as does age. Ambassadors are seated according to the length of time they have been in their post. The Royal Court's employees sit round the table to act as mini hosts; at one end there is the First Marshal of the Court, and at the other end the Master of Ceremonies. The King and Queen always sit opposite each other at the centre of the table. The centre of the table functions as our starting point when they are organising the seating plan."

He frowns, "So that means we will be seated where exactly?"

"Most probably next to Della and Wladimir. It will be The King and his wife, The Prince and Princess of Wales, Rory and George, Char and Nate, Louis, Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie, The Wessexes, Ana and Sasha - that would be the British and Russian Royals. Then come all the other royal households - Swedish, Norwegian, Spanish, Monegasque. Japanese or Royalty from Thailand will not attend. After the royals come diplomats and politicians."

"And then us?"

"Yes. We will be seated with the Middleton Family."

"Probably at the end of the table."

"Not at the end but in the middle. We're no royals. It's the way it is."

He nods. "Okay."

"Dinner party conversations are formulaic. If you sit alone, it's commonly known you first speak to the person on your right until the second course of the meal comes; then the person on your left is up at bat."

"Good thing I won't be there alone."

"Most important: When the King is done, everyone is done."

My husband nods again.

"There is also a correct way to hold your utensils. Knives go in the right hand, forks in the left, with the fork facing toward the plate. It doesn't end there - royals are meant to use their knives to scoop food onto the backs of their forks and then balance that food all the way to their mouths. You should follow those rules."

"Who knew eating could be this difficult. Do we curtsy when they enter the room?"

I almost forgot about that. "The Order of Precedence applies to all events, dinner included. Royals enter a room in the order to which they'll ascend to the throne. That's why Meghan and Harry always entered a room last. I will have to curtsy but you will just bow your head."

"Anything else?"

"After the dinner there's always time for tea - and King Charles likes his done in a very particular way. He likes his made with loose tea leaves in a teapot, with the ratio being one teaspoon of leaves per each cup of tea, plus one for the pot. For green tea, the water should be heated to 70C degrees Celsius and it should be 100 degrees Celsius for Earl Grey. He also loves organic honey added straight to the teapot and the cups arranged just so with a teaspoon under the handle." I explain to my husband. "The royals take their afternoon cup poured first with tea, followed by milk. When stirring, it's appropriate to never touch the sides of the cup with your spoon and, of course, slurping is not allowed."

He stares at me with a confused look. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Tea's a very important thing in British culture."

"I have not once seen you drink tea! You like coffee - just like us Brazilians."

I smirk, "True. Maybe I am a Brazilian by heart." I admit. Maybe that's why I fell in love with a Brazilian man.

He wraps his arms around my waist, "Maybe that's why I fell for you in the first place."

"Maybe. But I'm serious. The King's very particular when it comes to his tea."

"Oh, I'm sure he is." My husband agrees with me before kissing me.

In the back of my mind I can hear how the doors of the lift open but I'm too wrapped up in my husband to react.

"Mrs. Bolton, your food is here!" I can hear the waiter from downstairs yelling. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

My husband breaks away from me first. I stare at the waiter who is pushing a serving cart that's full of silver covers in different sizes. The smell is absolutely mouth watering!

"Don't worry. Just leave everything here." I tell him. "We'll take care of the rest."

The waiter nods, "Enjoy your meal, Mr. and Mrs. Bolton. Just phone when you want to have it picked up."

"We will." Oliver says with a smile on his lips. "And thank you."

The waiter leaves us alone without another word.

My husband opens the first two lids, revealing salads. "Ready to start?"

I nod, "Yes. I'm going to show you how to hold the cutlery and the glasses next."

Oliver frowns, "There's a Royal way to that as well?"

"Not necessarily royal but upper class."

My husband rolls his eyes before picking up the salad plates and placing them on top of the service plate.

Oliver

I press my wife's naked body against the window front as I thrust into her from behind. She lets out a moan that sounds like it's coming straight from her heart. We're both drenched in sweat and slightly breathless as we've been chasing one orgasm after another. That's why I love her so much, with her as my partner we literally fuck each other to sleep. She doesn't moan like this when we're making love. This feels different. It is different, but it's not bad. It's equally as good.

Probably because it's that fine balance which she craves so much.

We haven't fucked like this since our wedding day, but man does this feel good!

"I'm already gonna come…" She breathes out, her hot breath digging up the glass of the window front in our bedroom.

"Come all over my dick, Tesoro." I start to thrust harder into her, my hips and ass working hard. Fucking her until she's not able to walk anymore - that's what she asked for.

And as I've promised her, I always deliver.

"God, yes…" She stops breathing for a second, her chest expanded with the breath she holds. Then she explodes, gushing all over my cock. "Oliver…yes…Oliver."

I love when she says my name. It really makes me feel like the king of her heart. I want to come, but at the same time I want to keep going. This look on her face is too beautiful to ever vanish.

Once she comes down from her high, I pull out of her and turn her around to face her fully. I pick her up and her legs automatically hook around my waist. She kisses me again as I thrust into her again.

I pound into her, pinning her against the window. My hips work hard, fucking her until she is sore. My cock slides through her overwhelming slickness, and I know she loves my cock as much as I love giving it to her. We're one.

Inside and out.

I'm going make her come again before we are done.

"Oliver…you feel so good." She kisses the corner of my mouth, a film of sweat over the skin. "I love it when you fuck me hard."

I press my face into the valley of her full breasts and inhale her beautiful scent. My tongue moves along her skin and tastes her sweetness. My cock continues to pound into her, feeling that wetness that greeted me since the first time we made love, even though she had no idea we made love.

Her nails start sliding down my back, nearly cutting through my skin as my body rubs against her clit again, stimulating the wet nub. She moans loudly, "Yes…right there."

I know her body inside out but seeing her react to me is the hottest thing ever. I look into her eyes, ready for the sight. "I'm gonna give it to you…"

"Good. I love it when you fill me…" She speaks with lidded eyes and a sex-crazed expression, looking like the sexiest woman I've ever seen.

She turns into such a vixen whenever we fuck like this. The sex has always been good, but this is phenomenal - even for me. She is dirty, kinky but she turns soft for me. She made love with me for me, but this is purely for her pleasure - at least that's what I thought in the beginning. But now... Seeing her like this makes me enjoy this just as much as she is enjoying it.

Am I crazy for thinking this way? For feeling this way?

She wants my seed deep inside her, to make her feel full. And I want to give it to her just as much.

Although we both know our body fluids have already reacted and formed a baby. A baby that she calls peppercorn.

Peppercorn. That thought makes me smile for a brief moment.

She drags her nails down my back. "Okay…I'm about to come. I want it, Oliver."

I press my forehead to hers and close my eyes, as the powerful explosion sweeps over my body. It rushes over me in waves, making me feel both alive and dead at the same time. My cock twitches as it becomes harder, and then I feel the rush pass through me.

I come with the most powerful groan, filling her pussy with as much come as I could give.

Once she felt it, she moaned louder, coming with me. Her pussy guzzles all of it, gushing around me at the exact same time. "Oliver."

"Tesoro."

I kiss her, stick my tongue in her mouth. I suck her lips, kissed her mouth, and give her my tongue as she gives me hers. I've never fallen so deep into sex, have all of my surroundings fade away until there was nothing but the two of us. The experience is spiritual, existing on a different planet that was higher than reality.

So fucking good.

It takes us a few minutes to catch our breathes again but the smile form our lips never vanishes.

One of the best orgasms we ever had.

"Welcome to the dark side, Babe." She whispers against my lips before kissing me quickly.

"Babe? That's my nickname?"

She runs her fingers through my chin long hair that's sticking to my neck. "No, that's what I call you when you fuck me. And now don't say you didn't enjoy you. I know you did."

"I did." I admit as I run my fingers through her chestnut curls. She's just as sweaty as me. I place my hands on her lower back and start walking into the en-suite bathroom.

"Good." She smiles at me again, "And now let's get clean for bed."

I open the door of the shower before stepping it. Then I place her on the white marbled bench before closing the door again.

A part of me can't understand how much I enjoyed the hard sex. I was a love making kind of guy before I met my wife.

But she's pushing buttons I didn't know I had.

Josephine turns on the two rain shower heads before stepping underneath the jet. I watch how the water runs down her stunning body. She hasn't realised it yet but her body has started to change, to adapt to our baby's needs. Her tits have grown and her hips are a bit wider as well. She's started to gain weight there as well as her thighs but her stomach is still flat and toned.

"What's wrong?" She asks me after she has soaked in the water for a moment.

"You're right. I did enjoy it." I breathe out.

She walks over to me and runs her long slim fingers over my forehead, "Why are you frowning then?" She asks with concern in her voice.

"Because I know this wasn't enough for you. You want more. You want whips and chains... You want it even harder."

She licks her lips, "I'm okay with what we do now."

"Yeah and that's my problem. You're okay with it now but what if one day you're not okay with just that?"

My wife shrugs, "I don't think this day will come. I'm also more than fine with lovemaking."

"But you don't smile like you just smiled when we make love. You don't grin the way you grinned. You crave this." I place my heart on her chest. "Your heart craves this."

Her long fingers fondle my right cheek. "Maybe we can start small."

"Start small?"

"Yes. With silver balls and feathers. Something that doesn't scare you to use it."

"I'm surprised you're not wanting to take the reins into your hands here as well."

She licks her full lips again, "That's the only part in my life where I'm not dominant. We could also visit a club if you want. So you can see what it's like."

"A BDSM club?"

She nods, "You could talk to other... other doms."

"A dom? That's what you want me to be?" I ask her with a raised eyebrow. My wife's not one to be conquered by anyone.

But she's chosen to get conquered by me.

That's reason alone for me to give this another try.

"Only when we fuck." She says with a grin on her lips, "Other than that we're equals."

I place my hand on hers, "Yes we are."

"But I really... I really think you should give it another try. Because the last time we talked about it..." she inhaled deeply, "We were in a different position. We weren't married. I was seeing you as a toy. A very special and dear to my heart kind of toy, but a toy. Whereas now... now you're my husband, the love of my life, my second half, my soulmate... my equal. We've changed. We've evolved so perhaps... just perhaps you could give it another shot. If you don't want to I understand. I really do. I want you to know I won't take it badly or-"

"Okay."

"What?"

"I'll give it another shot. Let's visit that club in London."

She gives me the most wonderful smile before kissing me. "It's not just one club here in London, you know... We might have to try out a few before you get comfortable with the idea."

Why am I even amazed?! "Okay. I'm willing to try. You know I'll do anything for you."

She nods, "I know and I would do just the same for you. You are my lover. My best friend. The love of my life. And my soulmate."

Josephine

Mexico City's highway pillars are vertical gardens that help fight air pollution. Via Verde is a project in Mexico City that strives to turn 1,000 highway pillars into vertical gardens. Different kinds of plants are planted inside the "pockets" of felt to make the city greener and its air cleaner. The hydroponic system collects rainwater to cover its needs and each garden is equipped with sensors to allow its remote monitoring.

I look up from my MacBook Air as George walks into my office at Oxford Royal. "Hi!"

He closes the glass door behind himself. "Hi there." He greets me before sitting down across me. After much consideration, George and Rory have decide to fly back to London before flying back to Australia after the King's birthday party. They plan to stay down-under until his private birthday party at Highgrove House, which is in three weeks. The press coverage and the feedback of their work in Australia has been remarkable. They're now the most popular royals, especially since some paparazzi caught them walking at a private beach on an afternoon with the girls and the little princesses were picking up plastic litter. The photo went viral- with the headlines from Princesses already following their parents steps to Princesses taking care of the Commonwealth their way. It's the kind of PR that can't be staged. It just happened naturally. "What are you working on?"

I turn my golden MacBook Air around. "Via Verde."

"What's that?"

"The Via Verde project has focused on turning Mexico City's grey to green through the construction of vertical gardens on columns along the Periférico highway, which rings the central city. The specially chosen plants act as air cleaners."

"Pretty incredible."

"Think about bridges all over the world with green pillars." I tell him. "Or you know even the pillars at bus stops... street lamps even. The possibilities are endless."

"That would be perfect for the Protection Shield pillar of Oxford Royal."

I nod, "It's why I've set up a meeting with the founder Fernando Ortiz Monasterio. I asked Jason to block your schedule tomorrow morning at eight."

George smiles, "You like to hit the ground running, don't you? It's your first day back at work and you've already found two new projects for Oxford Royal."

I shrug, "I'll have to order pizzas for tonight's conference call with Shelter Suit." Rory's going to join me for the meeting. It'll be the first time we see each other after their trip to Australia.

"I thought about bringing the girls to Oliver and hang out with him while we wait for you guys to come home. To, you know, get to know him a bit more."

I smile, "He'd love that."

"He seems like a great guy."

"He is."

"But he's also quite different from Edward."

I roll my eyes, "How much longer will I have to justify my decision to choose Oliver over Edward?"

George holds up his hands, "I was just pointing out the obvious. Oliver's not from the same background as you, actually it's the opposite. It's going to be interesting to see how he's going to adapt and act around my family - and deal with the scrutiny of the press."

"The press hasn't found out about it yet." I tell him.

"And rightfully so. With Edward you went public with a bang a moment after you told us. I'm just wondering how you're going to approach it this time."

"I don't know yet. I haven't spend a thought on making a plan. All I want is make sure Oliver gets accepted by your grandpa and the rest of the Royals. It's important to me that they like him."

"Because they loved Edward?"

"Because he is my husband." I counter. "I didn't marry Oliver to get back on Ed. I thought I loved Edward but I didn't. I care about him deeply but I didn't love him. I projected my feelings of Oliver onto Edward and that was wrong. Very wrong. And I'm deeply sorry for that."

"Have you told Edward this?"

"I've written him a letter where I elaborated on my decision but at that time I wasn't aware of my emotional state. I've only come to realise that very recently."

"Well, I think you're going to see him and his family on my grandpa's birthday party on Friday."

"I know."

"If you want to I can ask grandpa to uninvite them."

I shake my head, "No, I can't ask you of that."

"You're not asking. I'm offering you my help. We both know you guys will meet sooner or later but frankly, this might be a little too soon. It would take the pressure off of Oliver. At least a significant amount. It would put you at ease and therefore Rory... and therefore me."

George really is the second bigger brother I have. "Okay. Talk to The King. It would actually come in handy very much."

My brother-in-law nods, "Consider it done."

"Thank you."

"You're family and now he's part of my family as well." George simply explains. He knows that family means everything.

And you protect those you love from those who want to do harm.

"Oh and by the way, the King has chosen to change locations. Royal Albert Hall for the party with a full celebratory show for everyone to watch and cake afterwards for the close circle."

My eyes widen, "Why didn't you say that earlier?"

George shrugs, "I was caught up in that whole Via Verde thing."

I roll my eyes and run my fingers through my hair, "So the six of us on stage then?"

George nods, "That's Life by Frank Sinatra this year."

We always perform a Frank Sinatra song on the King's birthday party. It's always lots of fun but this year it's a bit nerve wreaking. Standing on Royal Albert Hall's stage is a whole different thing.

But at least I've got Rory, Nate, George, Char and Louis with me on stage. This started when we were still the Bolton triplets and the Cambridge three. We've been doing this for over ten years now.

It's something the King expects of us. And we serve our duty with wide smiles on our lips.

Oliver

Working for the Bolton Foundation is nothing like I expected it to be. I thought it would be a ruthless leader company which kisses asses of many moguls in order to get million-donations. But it's the opposite. It's a well oiled machine, a big family that work on a base with deep sympathy, trust, passion and recognition. It's absolutely not what I thought it would be.

And I feel so honoured to be part of the team.

As this is my first day here, I'm working with Clara. She's been here as long as Ryan Evans, the Co-CEO of the foundation and Josephine's uncle. I met him briefly because he rushed by me as he was on his way to a meeting outside the city but I like him. He called me mate and embraced me. He's nothing like Troy.

I've been reviewing the different projects that the Bolton Foundation is involved it. I had no idea their portfolio was so big! They built water wells in Nigeria, India, Chile and Argentine. The Brazilian project - as they labelled my wife's time there - was a huge success as well. Josephine's photos are stunning and will be published on the website soon. Seeing her photographic work again, reminded me of her outstanding talent. More people should be able to see what I am. She's so gifted and she shouldn't throw it away.

I tear my gaze away from the iMac and look at Clara. The blonde woman is reviewing financial charts, highlighting some passages with a bright yellow marker. On the bridge of her thin long nose sit black framed glasses. Just like everyone else here, she is dressed rather casual than business like. Jeans and sneakers are accepted as much as a pencil skirt and a suit. Everyone is welcomed here with open arms. There are even people working here that used to be homeless, addicts of any kind or had financial troubles.

But as far as I'm concerned Clara is none of them. She studied at Cambridge. Sociology and politics. The Bolton Foundation hired her before she even graduated. How they got a hold of her, I don't know but this woman seems more than capable of her job.

"Clara?"

The woman in her early thirties looks up from the papers, "Yes?"

"Any chance you have a collection of Josephine's photos?"

Her deep red lips stretch into a smile that reveals her white teeth, "She's quite talented, isn't she? Before she started to take the photos for the Bolton Foundation, her father was our main photographer. Mr. Bolton has clearly gifted his daughter with that talent."

Troy and Gabriella are referred to Mr. and Mrs. Bolton here. "Yes. I actually thought about doing a vernissage with the best photos of the Brazil project and maybe a few more. To raise awareness of the change that was created and to show what happens with the donation."

Clara thinks for a moment, "That's actually a good idea. We could turn that into a fundraising gala."

And Josephine would get the recognition she deserves. "Yes."

"I'm just afraid I won't have the time to make that possible. It would be quite hard to find a proper location for that."

"I can take on the work. Phone some hotels and see if anything's available."

Clara nods, "Okay. See it as your first project then. I suggest you make a proper plan before showing it to Ryan."

Suddenly my iPhone starts ringing. Shit, did I forget to put that on vibration only?! "I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't worry about it. As long as you're in no meeting you're allowed to take calls."

I can't believe this is actually work! They're so cool! I look at the display of my iPhone and see George's face. "Hello?"

"Oliver, hi! It's George. I'm calling to ask you if you're free tonight."

As Josephine called me earlier to tell me she'd be having a long night at work with Rory because of a meeting with Shelter suit, I actually am free. "Yes."

"Sweet! I just talked to Jo. Since both of our wives are stuck in a meeting tonight, I suggest I'll grab the girls and we do our very own men's night."

I chuckle, "Sounds like a fun way to spend the evening."

"Great. I'll be there at around six. We can cook together."

"I didn't know you like to cook."

"Rory taught me at school and by the time we started at uni, I was basically a pro."

"Good. I'm looking forward to it."

"Don't start cooking without me." George says before hanging up.

I stare into space for a moment. Did I just arrange a babysitting date of the three future Queens of England with the next King of England?!

"There are more photos by Josephine in our archive." Clara's voice reaches my ears but it takes me a moment to process it.

I am an in-law of the Duke of Oxford, the heir to the throne. I am an in-law to the little Princesses, the future Queens. It's bizarre but also the truth.

I have one foot in the Royal Family.

The British and the Russian.

Josephine

I pay the pizza delivery guy before shutting the front door close with my right foot as I'm carrying eight boxes of pizza. Being alone - well, with four security men but other than that alone - at Oxford Royal is strange. The building looks so lonely with all these empty desks. Even all the green plants look lonely. I walk past the desks before reaching the big conference room. The security men are sitting in another room close by. I decide to go there first and give the men their fuel for tonight. I knock against the glass door with my free foot and Karl opens the door for me. The TV in the conference room is showing the Football League Championship. Liverpool is playing against Arsenal tonight. A classic that's always exciting and I feel quite bad for making them work tonight. But at least they can see it here as well. "Dinner for tonight." I explain before placing six pizza boxes on the table. "There's the classic margarita, salami, ham and mushroom, a veggie one, a vegan one and an Indian one. I hope there's something you like." I explain. "Water's in the kitchen."

All four men smile at me. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Bolton." Karl says to me with a genuine smile.

I look up at the TV. The game has just started. "We should be done in about two hours."

They all nod. "Don't worry. You're taking care of us very well." This time is Jeffrey who comments.

I show them one last time before turning on my heel and walking into the big conference room next door. Rory's working on her MacBook. There are sheets of papers everywhere on this glass square table. The conference call with Sheltersuit was just finished. It was good and very constructive. The founder voiced the issues he currently faces with the production and we offered our support. I'm confident this will be a long-standing commitment.

"Pizzas. Veggie and classic salami with extra olives and cheese." I announce before shutting the door with one foot.

My twin sister just nods, "I'll be right with you."

Really, and people think I'm a workaholic! Rory's just as bad as me! I open my box and start eating the veggie pizza. I decided to not get my usual tuna pizza because I'm not sure if I can have that fish. Just to be safe. Veggies are always good. "Rory, I didn't bring the pizza so you would eat it cold. Call it quits for tonight and eat."

My sister growls before shutting her MacBook Pro and sliding it towards the middle of the table. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?" She asks me as she opens her pizza box.

I stop eating. "Why do you think there's something to talk about?"

"You're eating a veggie pizza and not your usual tuna. Something's up with you."

Shit. Maybe I should've let her work and eat in silence. "I wanted a change. Is that so bad?"

"Usually, no. But with you, yes."

I take another bite of my veggie pizza slice to avoid her intense gaze. I don't know why I thought keeping this pregnancy a secret would be easy. I'm at week four and it already seems to be a too big of a secret. "I don't know what you mean."

She leans back in her chair, "Jo, what happened after George and I left at the movie night?"

"We started working on the fund raiser."

"No, I mean with Char and Nate. Was she really so hurt and angry?" She asks me before biting into her pizza slice.

I gulp my food down before answering. "She's still pissed but I think she's having a meeting with the King next week or so. She wants to face him and pour her heart out. She's really struggling playing the second pipe, you know. I mean, she's got her girls but with these constant city trips there's not much time left at the end of the day."

"She's afraid they're going to be raised by their nanny rather than them."

I nod, "Don't worry too much. They'll be fine."

"I really hope so."

"But at least you're not worried about your girls."

My sister waves with her hand, "They've got George and Oliver. They'll be fine with their Daddy and uncle."

Uncle. Right. Oliver's now their uncle. And I'm breeding their cousin. Oliver's a Daddy himself. I am a Mummy!

The thought makes my eyes well up with tears. I try to not think about the pregnancy too much because it's very early on, however at moments like these I just can't help it.

"Jo, what's wrong?"

I shake my head, "Nothing."

"It's not nothing. You didn't have coffee during the meeting. You haven't ordered your go-to pizza. And you're awfully tired."

"That's because I didn't have any coffee today."

My sister finishes her slice and wipes her fingers clean with a napkin. "No, that's not what's going on." She says before suddenly rising from the chair. Then she starts walking into my direction.

What the hell is she doing?

My sister wraps her arms tightly around me and squeezes me. "Ouch!" I cry out as my tender boobs feel the squeeze more intense than other parts of my body.

"I knew it! You're pregnant!" She cries out before letting go of me.

Shit!

Oliver

My three little nieces-in-law are so adorable! They're real bundles of joy, running from east to west through the main floor of the penthouse as George has prohibited them from climbing up the glass staircase.

George brought lots of books to read with them and crayons to draw. He wanted to use the playroom that we have but I just told him to use the dining room. It now has a few colourful strikes on the well oiled walnut but I think it makes it even more beautiful.

Not once has George turned on the TV or had a look at his iPhone. His focus was on his girls, even when we were cooking together. We made Spaghetti Bolognese, which was loved by the girls. George called it a big mess that was left on the kitchen island, but I just call it family time. Seeing him as a Dad gives me a whole new perspective. It's not daunting to be with the future King and Queens of the British Empire.

It's spending time with family.

My life's so crazy!

Even being all snuggled up on the couch with my three nieces while their father reads them the story of Snow White, feels a bit surreal - but also weirdly normal. The fire is cracking in the fireplace and the lights are dimmed as the sun has already set. We watched the sunset on the rooftop garden together and the girls were in awe of the intense colour play tonight. They're so little but also very grateful already. George and Rory really teach them values instead of letting a nanny do that.

"Okay, I think they're finally out." George says with a smile on his thin lips.

"Are they always so energetic?" I ask him as I look at the three little princesses that have fallen asleep around me.

"You think that was energetic? They're even more enthusiastic when they're at home with our garden and lake."

"You're a really good father."

"I'm doing my best. I can't be with them as much as I want to but the evening and early mornings are usually just the family. Unless there's an emergency of course."

"Of course. The crown comes first."

"No. I meant family emergency. Whenever someone from our family needs us, we're there. The crown doesn't come first. Family comes first."

I nod, almost embarrassed by my presumption.

"Just because my position requires me to rule over the British Empire one day, doesn't mean I am not a father at heart. These three girls are my everything. Just like their mother. I'd be nothing without them and if ever any of these three say the word, than I will abdicate and give the throne to Charlotte. But to be honest, while she may be a taurus like granny, it doesn't make her more qualified for this position than me. Especially with the recent quarrel with grandpa. She's been a shy mouse not a woke Queen."

"Perhaps she's just afraid to make it worse."

He licks his lips, "Well, sometimes it has to become worse before it gets better. Let's take your and Josephine for example. You guys had to break up to get ultimately back together. Your breakup was necessary for your individual growth, though I think more hers than yours. But when you met again, she didn't think twice. She followed her heart very clearly."

"It was the first time she listened to her heart." I say without thinking. I can't believe I'm talking to the future King, my brother-in-law about this. But frankly, he and Nate are probably the closest to a friend that I have. I haven't heard from my former flat-mate which turned out to be a Swedish prince again. I have no idea where he is and I couldn't care less.

"See? That's what I mean. And the same applies to Charlotte. She needs to stand her ground and stop dancing along the King's pipe."

"But he's the King."

"That doesn't make him unimpeachable. Monarchs can be dethroned. It happened in the past, so people know what to do if they'd had enough. The monarchy has only survived this long because it's constantly evolving. Not changing. Not adapting. But evolving."

"And you want your sister to start the next phase of this evolvement?"

He nods. "It's the only way. I love her very dearly, I do. I just want what's best for her."

"Your life wasn't always easy, was it?"

"No but I never complained. I never could. Our backgrounds couldn't be more different. Your upbringing was hard - mine was privileged."

It's remarkable how down-to-earth he is. "True. I didn't grow up in palaces and go to private schools."

"Did you go to uni?"

"No. I always wanted to and I even had a scholarship but then my Dad died a day after I graduated from high school. So, I had to provide the money in my family. I took on several jobs around and in Rio."

"That's very sad to hear. I've never lost someone in my life, except for Nona and my granny. However I never met my granny but my parents made sure to keep the memory of her alive. As far as granny goes, she left a big hole in all of our hearts. But losing a parent is different."

"Yes."

"How did he die if I may ask?"

"He was on his way home from the farmers market. He got shot and robbed because of the full grocery bags."

"He died because of the food he was carrying?" George asked me with a shocked expression.

I nod.

"I'm so sorry!"

"Rio is not London." I say with a shrug. "And Rocinha is not the City of Westminster."

"No, definitely not. What was your scholarship for?"

"For med school actually. I wanted to become a doctor. An emergency surgeon."

"Why don't you do that now?"

"What?"

"Go to uni. Say King's College so you stay in London. Study medicine and become what you've always wanted."

"No. I'm happy where I am. Working for the Bolton Foundation is great."

"But it's not what you really want." George says with a shrug. "It's never too late to follow your dreams."

Maybe. Maybe not.

Suddenly, the doors of the lift open and I can hear how my wife and George's wife walk in. I didn't expect them to be home so soon. I carefully get up from the couch and so does George from the armchair across the couch. A moment later, our wives walk down the hallway.

While Rory grins like a Cheshire Cat, my wife looks a little worried.

"She knows." Josephine breathes out.

"She knows?" I ask her back shocked. I thought we wanted to keep it a secret until week twelve or so!

"I know." Rory confirms with the same grin on her lips.

"Know what?" George asks confused.

"Can I tell?" Rory asks us with a bright smile.

Josephine rolls her eyes while nodding, "It doesn't matter now anyway."

"Jo's pregnant!" Rory breathes out.

"What? You're expecting?" George asks us with a shocked face. "We just talked about it the other day! Why didn't you say anything?" He asks me.

"Because we're only in week four. It's too early to even think about it." Josephine says before grabbing my hand.

"What she said!" I tell George with a shrug.

"Well this is wonderful news! I'm very happy delighted." George says before embracing my wife. "The girls will be over the moon and very excited to meet their cousin."

"No word to anyone!" Josephine warns him. "Not Mummy and Daddy. Not Della or Nate. Not Catherine and William. No one!"

"What about Ana?" Rory asks us.

"She knows. I guess she saw that when she painted my birthday gift."

"Oh, the one in the hallway?" Rory asks.

We both nod.

"That's really pretty!"

"Not just pretty but accurate." I tell her.

"That really happened?" George asks us.

My wife nods before holding up her left hand. "She even got the rings right."

"Well, isn't that interesting."

"How did you do the stem cell extraction then? You couldn't have gotten anaesthesia because you're pregnant." George asks her.

"I didn't had any anaesthesia. I was awake the whole time. They used a numbing cream which worked very poorly. Ana was with me. She told me everything she knew about my future to keep me distracted. Weirdly that and her big green eyes worked. It kept me somewhat okay."

She never told me that.

"Really? What did she say?" Rory asks her with wide eyes.

"I won't share. I promised to not share any of it."

"You're such a killjoy!" Rory complains.

Josephine sticks out of her tongue.

"Anyways, how are the girls?" Rory asks her husband.

"Good, just fell asleep."

"They kept you busy, didn't they?" My wife asks us with a smirk on her lips.

"It wasn't boring." I answer.

"They seem to be quite fond of Oli." George tells them.

"Oli? You're already calling him by a nickname?" Rory asks her husband.

"I got the official okay."

"Why don't you call him that?" Rory asks her sister.

Josephine shrugs, "Because I don't."

"Can I call you Oli?" Rory asks me.

"Sure."

Rory nods, "Okay. Then you guys are going to babysit the girls when we're doing that thing in Wimbledon."

Josephine and I nod.

"What about Malta?"

"That trip has been postponed by The King."

Josephine frowns, "What does that mean? You're not becoming president and vice-president of the Commonwealth Trust?"

Rory and George both shrug.

"Everything has been put on hold. For now." George explains.

"That's strange." Josephine thinks out loud.

Rory shrugs again, "It's the King's decision. We would be very honoured to get the positions but we can't influence him by any means. We support him."

"Do you think Charlotte and Nate are going to get the offer?" I ask them.

George shakes his head, "Highly unlikely by the way she's been acting and he has been treating them."

"Highly unlikely but not impossible." Josephine thinks out loud again. "Very strange."

Oliver

I bite on my lower lip as my hand hovers above the door handle of my wife's red room. It's the room she uses to develop her photographs. At first, I thought doing this vernissage to surprise her was a good idea but now I'm really starting to have doubts. Her uncle Ryan, somehow convinced me into using her private work as well as the work she did for the Bolton Foundation. But standing in front of this room makes me doubt that decision.

Especially since I'm doing this behind her back.

Behind her back - we've never had secrets. Not since we got married anyway. If I learned one thing than it's that secrets always come out.

And I know how much Josephine hates secrets. She loathes them. Besides, we vowed to be honest to one another.

And this is not being honest. This right here is being dishonest. Secretive.

I inhale deeply before pushing down the door handle. I switch on the lights and get greeted by a rather small room. There are different square shaped bowls which are empty on a row of square shaped table across me against the wall. Above the bowls is a string and lots of wooden pegs. But no photos.

I look around and see there's nothing more in here expect for a sink and a wooden drawer. I walk over to it and pull the drawers open one by one, but all I see are extra equipment and old cameras. Still, no photos.

Where the hell is she hiding her brilliant work?!

I walk out of the room and close the door again. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe I should concentrate the vernissage on just her professional work. I've already looked through her work from the last five years and I was stunned by what I saw.

Josephine's talent should be seen by many more people.

Josephine

I adjust the straps of my icy blue silk dress by Carolina Herrera. It has an open back but no cleavage is shown. I haven't worn Carolina Herrera since the day I was planning to wed Edward. That day I wore a very pompous dress but this is the total opposite. It's sleek and elegant. It's sexy. My chestnut curls are wrapped into an up-do. Diamond earrings are sparkling on my earlobes and I'm also wearing a diamond bracelet on my left wrist. It's the same I wore when I met Oliver at the Ritz.

And now, I'm going to wear it to Royal Albert Hall and Buckingham Palace.

"Ralph's here!" I can hear my husband calling me.

I take on last look at my profile in the mirror. The icy blue dress fits my body shape flawlessly. The silk is gliding down my body. There's no bump to be seen but I have noticed my sore boobs over the last days. They're growing. Guess my body has decided to keep and nourish the invader, the peppercorn.

I still won't say a word to anyone until I've reached my second trimester. It's just not safe. But I guess I can't hide the signs from the doctors in my family. Unfortunately, there are lots of doctors. So I might have to put on my mask for tonight and show my bets acting skills around Della, Wlad, Mummy and Daddy - and the rest of the party guests, including His Majesty The King.

Should be a piece of cake.

"Tesoro,"

I look over my shoulder and stare at my husband who is standing in the open door of our walk-in closet. He looks absolutely sensational in that black Dolce Gabbana suit with a black bow. His beach blonde hair looks shiny and his freshly shaved chin marvellous. But the best thing is that platinum ring around his left ring finger.

I have one bloody good looking husband.

"You look breathtaking." Oliver breathes out as his sea foam coloured eyes dance down and up my body.

"You do as well." I say with a smirk before walking over to him. I'm wearing silver stilettos with the dress but I know I won't dance the night away. I haven't worn anything with a heel since eight months so it feels rather strange. I adjust my husband's bow and brush through his chin long hair. I check the temperature on his forehead with my hand. He's still quite warm. "Are you sure you want to do this tonight? I could go alone."

"No. We're married wherever you go, I go."

"But your temperature has risen. I think you caught something from Johna." I think out loud. Johna is laying at home in his bed as well. It's the time of the year to get sick with cold and wet autumns. Plus, the transition from sunny and warm Brazil was tough on their immune systems. Sooner or later they are all going to get sick.

Still, the timing couldn't be worse.

"I'll be fine."

I sigh. This might turn into a serious cold within the next hours and I don't want him to collapse at the King's birthday party. That would be one hell of an introduction. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

He nods, "I was aware of the public interest in your life when I signed the marriage license."

"It's not going to be an official outing. The press won't get any photos of us tonight. The only opportunity to snap a photo will be at the gates of Buckingham, when we arrive and when we exit. As we're sitting in the back with black windows, the chance of getting a photo is small and Ralph's very good at keeping my private life private." I try to calm him down.

"Okay, that's good. Because I can't imagine the pressure of the press right now."

"We will drop the bomb when we're ready. This is a private party. The people attending tonight's birthday won't talk as they all sign a NDA before entering the room. No word gets out, from no one. The guests remain mostly anonymous. The photographers don't snap pictures of everyone attending. There are side entrances but we have to take the main entrance as we're part of the extended family."

"Sounds complicated."

"Don't worry. I taught you how to wine and dine with the royals, politicians and other millionaires. It's going to be fine. Just remember to keep to conversation light."

Oliver

Ralph is our chauffeur for tonight. We're sitting in a sleek Jaguar with blacked out windows. The drive from the Landmark Place to Royal Albert Hall is not long and London shows itself in the most beautiful lightning tonight but all I can think of are the zillion rules that Josephine explained to me earlier this week. From eating the proper way, to using the proper cutlery, making small talk with your table-mate, sitting the correct way... at least, I can dance. Even so well that it's good enough for the King's birthday party.

Josephine squeezes my hand, "Don't be nervous." She whispers to me. Her dangling diamond earrings are catching the dimmed light from the streets as we drive through London. She looks absolutely breathtaking tonight. Especially in that icy coloured silk dress. It has a fitted cut and a free back, which shows the edges of her scars from the stem cell donation she did to safe my Mama's life. I don't know what I find sexier, the fact that she saved my Mama or the fact that she's so proud of what she's done that she chose to show off the scars, knowing it will spark conversations probably the whole night.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

She shows me a smile, "Careful, I might fuck you in this car on our way back home."

"20 minutes are not enough for us." I counter.

She chuckles before lifting our entwined hands and kissing the back of mine. "True."

"We're nearly there." Ralph announces from the front. "Divider up or down?"

"Up please." Josephine says and a second later a divider separates us from Ralph. That way no one will know who is in the car. "I just don't want the press to write about us on the King's birthday party. He's the star of the show. We're all just playing supporting roles." She says as we reach the impressive building that's Royal Albert Hall. London's most iconic venue. The Royal Albert Hall is a concert hall on the northern edge of South Kensington. One of the United Kingdom's most treasured and distinctive buildings, it is held in trust for the nation and managed by a registered charity which receives no government funding. It can seat 5,272. "And I'm not hiding you. Just to set the record straight."

It sure as hell feels like it but I hold my tongue. Tonight's about The King and not our private feelings for each other. The fact that she's attending this party with me by her side is statement enough. "Remind me, why again has the King decided to move his party to here?" I ask her as Ralph stops at the side entrance. It's the same entrance that's used by the Royals when they arrive.

"I don't know. George didn't explain it to me. But we will go to Buckingham later on." She says as the security opens the doors of the car.

We step out of there sleek Jaguar and walk into the building. It's completely empty and free of any media, except for one photographer but he's only making photos if asked I assume because he doesn't go crazy when he sees us.

A man in a black suit walks over to us, "Welcome to Royal Albert Hall, Mr. and Mrs. Bolton." The blonde man with blue eyes says to us. He seems to be in his late sixties. "My name is Winston." He shakes our hands.

"I hope we're not too late." Josephine says with a smile on her lips.

"Oh, no. But your parents, siblings and in-laws have already arrived." Winston says with a smile on his thin lips. "Shall I show you the way?"

But my wife shakes her head, "Oh, no. I still know the way. You can greet the next guests that arrive."

"Very well. Enjoy your evening." He shows us another smile before Josephine grabs my hand and drags me up the staircase in the marbled room. I look around and see that Ralph doesn't follow us.

"Is Ralph not following us?"

"No. He's going to park the car before waiting for us upstairs."

"He won't see the show?"

"He will. Just not from our box. He will see it from right underneath the Dom. That's where people can buy tickets for on the day of the show when the King's not in here. Basically you get them for half price or something like that. All private security watch the show from there." She explains as we walk down the second tier corridor. It's red carpeted and there are lots of framed photos hanging on the walls between the many doors.

"We are seated in a box?"

"Of course! We actually own a box here. Right next to the King's box so the view is pretty good. The Middleton Family owns a box on the other side of the King."

"Did the King gift them to you guys?"

"No. We bought it ourselves."

"How much did you pay?"

"Six million. It was an occasion of a lifetime. These boxes rarely go on sale. The one we bought has been in the family who previously owned it for decades. In 2011, a five-seat box on the second tier was put up for sale for 550,000. A ten-seat box on the Grand Tier was offered three years earlier for 1.2 million. So it was even a bargain."

"Wow..."

"The box is ideal for entertaining, with its twelve seats, and provides enviable views over the main stage and auditorium. We use it pretty regularly as there's always something worth watching going on in the Royal Albert Hall. We watched ballet, viewed concerts and enjoyed the Cirque du Soleil here. We can watch the Circe du Soleil with your brothers and Mum when they're back in the program."

"That sounds like a great idea."

"There's no reason for you to be nervous." Josephine tell me again.

I look at her, "I'm not nervous. I think you're the one who's freaking out here."

She blushes, "Okay, fine. Maybe I am a little nervous."

"Are you afraid someone is going to leak it to the press?"

"No. As I've said, the people here have all signed NDAs. Nothing gets leaked to the press."

"Then why are you so nervous?"

"Because we will see my Daddy again."

Right, the man who has kept an absolute distance since seeing her in a hospital bed two weeks ago. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." She echoes me. "He's not going to make a scene or anything. He will be polite and act accordingly. But God knows what's going on in his head. He might picture killing you and that's what's bothering me."

"Well, then maybe I should try to get Della and Wladimir on my side then. Perhaps this will influence his view of me."

Josephine bites on her lower lip, "Either they like you or they don't. The same goes for my father and we both know how he has decided. He hated Wlad for a while as well."

"I can imagine. It must've been hard to find out your daughter is sleeping with her bodyguard."

"It wasn't that. It was the fact that they kept it a secret for over seven years. If there's one thing my father can't stand than it's dishonesty."

"Good thing we were so honest then, huh?" I can't help my sarcasm.

"Yeah, that might've add to the problem we're facing now." She sighs as we get closer to the box that's owned by the Bolton Family.

"How long is this going to go?"

"About two hours but as I've said there's a more private birthday bash afterwards at Buckingham. That might be another hour or so. Whenever the King decides to leave, that's when we can leave as well. Most people stay though. Some guests even party until one or two in the morning. With free champagne and caviar, it's hard for most people to find their way home."

I grin, "I can imagine."

"But I suggest we head home as soon as the King has left. I'm quite tired, actually."

I nod, "Okay."

She stops at a wooden door. "This is ours. A Grand Tier box called The Golden Box right next to The King." With that she opens the door and reveals a breathtaking view of the stage.

Troy, Gabriella, Adaline and Wladimir are already occupying four of the twelve red seats. They all turn their heads and eye me more than her.

"Late as always." Troy comments which earns him a pretty dark look from his wife.

Gabriella raises from her chair. She looks elegant in her dark green dress that has long sleeves and lace all over. Just like her daughter, she's wearing her curly hair up and diamond earrings. "It's so good to see you two again. You look fabulous!" She says before embracing her daughter tightly. Then she turns her attention to me. "Oliver, you look really handsome tonight." She smirks before embracing me as well. I can feel her hot breath against my left ear, "This might not be pretty tonight but just wait it out. Troy will come around. Trust me on this." She whispers while rubbing my back.

And then she lets me go and I suddenly stand across Wladimir. A tall, brown haired and silver eyed man with clear Russian features. He's definitely not someone you want to mess with. "I'm Wladimir." He says before holding out his hand. Even in these two words, I can hear the heavy Russian accent.

I shake his hand firmly, "Oliver. But you already know that since you investigated me."

Weirdly, that causes him to smirk when he lets go of my hand. "I like this guy. He's not a pussy like that Rothschild kid."

I chuckle, did he just call Edward Rothschild, one of the most important people in the world, a kid?!

"Good. Then maybe you can convince Daddy to give him a break and I don't know maybe accept my choice of a husband?" Josephine hisses back at him.

"One can always hope." Wladimir answers before embracing her.

His wife comes into my view. Equally as tall as her sister and definitely as beautiful. But she looks like the female version of Troy just like Nate's the copy of their father. It's crazy how genetics work.

I wonder whom our child is going to look more alike. Maybe it's mother but maybe also it's father.

"Adaline, but you can call me Della." She has a wide smile on her lips. She doesn't sound like a wonder child to me.

I smile at her, "Nice to finally meet you."

"How come you're here anyway? I thought you were working on the breakthrough to finding a cure for Alzheimer's." Josephine says to her sister before embracing her. "Besides, this is not your cup of tea anyway."

Della smiles before eyeing her husband who smirks. "Thank Wlad. He dragged me all the way from Geneva to London. I'm only here for a couple of hours, until this whole shenanigans are over."

She's working on a cure for Alzheimer's?! That's bloody amazing!

"But don't worry, we're getting there. I'd say a few more tests and we can announce the news."

"You've found a cure?" I ask her shocked. She really must be a wonder child!

Della nods, "It's quite a complicated procedure and while it can't reserve the disease, it can stop it if it's discovered in the early stages. My boss wanted to release the happy news months ago but I kept using my veto right... However now... now I'm reconsidering my veto. It's not the cure for all stages but it's a very good start."

"That alone could save hundreds of thousands of lives! Just think about the genetic tests people could do and then get treated prior to the disease erupting. It's huge!"

Della smiles, "I'm defiantly sitting next to you during the next hours. I have a feeling we're going to get along quite well."

"You want to switch seats?" Wlad asks her.

"Hell yeah! If we're talking too loud we can always sit in back." She rolls her navy eyes at her husband. "Are you okay with that?"

I nod, "Sure, I want to know everything about your work."

"Brilliant! You don't mind me borrowing him for tonight, do you?"

My wife shakes her head, "He's yours. At least that way Daddy won't eat him alive."

Josephine

The celebrations are in full swing. The jokes are funny, the shows are excellent and everyone is having a good time on stage and off the stage. I'm watching the stage from backstage. The Cambridge three and the Bolton triplets are next. The Royal Albert Hall is quite full. The only empty seats are in a box on the second floor on the far left. That's the Rothschild's box.

Now I know why the King changed the setting. George told me he didn't even invite the Rothschilds this year. Clearly because of me and my breakup with Edward.

But I didn't expect him to make such a big statement. Everyone in here noticed the empty box because it just stands out at this otherwise full building.

And now everyone knows that the Rothschilds are unwelcome. Uninvited.

Irrelevant for Great Britain and the whole British Empire.

I'm actually very flattered.

"Mrs. Bolton, you mic."

I snap out of my thoughts and grab the simple black microphone from one of the sound assistants. "Thank you."

"So, the rumours are true. You really did get married in good old Rio."

I turn around and Louis' voice and grin at the British prince. Just like his old brother, he has blonde hair and warm chestnut coloured eyes, but Louis is a few pounds heavier than the future King. St. Andrews suits him. "Haven't seen you in forever!"

He embraces me tightly. The press tried to put us together because that would be the perfect story but Louis and I have always been just friends. I've never felt attracted to him and I assume he has never felt attracted to me. We're more like brother and sister. "Can't wait to meet your husband after this tonight."

"Be gentle on him, okay? He's new to all of this Royalty."

Louis nods. "Pinkie promise."

I grin, "How's uni?"

"Brilliant! I can't test the waters like every other student, though."

"Snatched yourself a women yet?"

He shows me a kind of grin I know all too well. "Maybe."

"I want to know everything!"

"You sound like Rory."

I shrug, "Guess that's the twin gene. Will I meet her tonight?"

He licks his thin lips before nodding, "Yes."

"Is she here right now?"

"Yep."

My eyes widen, he actually brought her here? That's basically saying he's ready to put a ring on her finger! "Where?"

Louis grabs my hand and pulls me a little further right. "Third row from behind. Sixth seat counting from the left." He explains to me.

My eyes follow his direction and stop at a beautiful woman with lush black hair that's styled in perfectly volumes curls. She has dark big almond shaped eyes, a small pointed nose and full lips that are coloured in a bright red. Her face is rather long and her skin tone is clearly a deep olive tone. There are a few golden bangles on her wrists and her hands are decorated with henna. She looks like a movie star. Unlike most female guests tonight, she's wearing a special gown. A traditional Indian gown. It's a beautiful indigo and grey coloured gown with long sleeves and a sheer Bandann over her shoulder. Some of the most common traditional dresses of India for Indian women are sarees, ghagra choli, and salwar kameez.

Louis' stunning girlfriend is wearing a salwar kameez.

"She's from North India?" I ask him.

"What? Oh no, no. Not the Indian diplomat's daughter. Fourth row. Sorry, my fault."

I nod before looking in front of the Indian beauty. There's a beautiful black haired Philippine sitting there in a dark green dress.

"The one from the Philippines?" I ask again. I know Louis' taste is quite wide as he has dated lots of women from different ethnicities, backgrounds and skin colour. He loves women.

He's just like me before I met Oliver.

Louis nods, "Her family is originally from there. How do you know?"

"The facial features." I explain. Once again, I have to thank Wlad for our lessons. He taught me so much about reading the people around me. "She's very pretty."

"And quite smart. She studies politics and economics."

"Quit talking! We're up on stage in five seconds!" Charlotte hisses at us. Just like all Royals she's wearing a tiara. While Rory's wearing a sapphire tiara that matches her dress, Charlotte is wearing the Cartier tiara that her Mum wore on her wedding day. She looks very pretty in her pink one shoulder dress.

Nate comes up behind her with a grin on her lips, "I can't wait to talk to your girlfriend!" He teases Louis, who rolls his eyes at his words.

"There are moments when I wish our family wouldn't be so big..." he whispers into my ear and I chuckle.

I place my hand on his shoulder, "I feel you, mate."

Oliver

Josephine leans on my shoulder as Ralph drives the Jaguar from Royal Albert Hall to Buckingham Palace. The birthday celebrations lasted for good two hours with the highlight being my wife, her siblings and in-laws performing on stage at the end.

The King looked very delighted, just like the rest of the guests.

And I was stunned that my wife has actually been on stage. Singing. Live!

She was bloody amazing!

I fondle her cheek as she slowly drifts into dreamland. I'm still feeling quite hot. The fever hasn't gotten down but I promised her to do this. Especially this occasion. She told me to keep her awake but I don't like to talk like a waterfall. I'd rather watch her. She should get all the sleep because God knows sooner than later we're going to walk around like zombies because we're so sleep deprived.

I can't wait!

"We've nearly arrived. I suggest you wake her up." Ralph tells me from the front.

"Can't you drive around for another five minutes?" I beg him. She looks so peaceful when she's asleep.

"I'm sorry but everyone's going to arrive at the same time. It would make a very bad impression if you came late." Ralph says before putting up the divider.

Of course it would. I don't want to embarrass her so I slowly shake her awake. "Tesoro, we've arrived."

She slowly opens her eyes and looks at me with a worried expression.

"You fell asleep." I explain.

"No, that's not what I'm worried about. You're hotter than a lava." She says before touching my forehead. It is only then that I feel how cool her fingers are. "You're glowing."

"I'm okay."

"No, you're in the middle of developing a very nasty cold. You belong in a bed." She argues with me as Ralph drives through the impressive gates of Buckingham Palace and I can see how at least 50 photographers try to take a photo of us. The flashlights are so bright that I fear they might catch a glimpse of us through the blacked out windows somehow anyway.

There's lots of yelling and cheering but a moment later, once we're within the safe walls of Buckingham Palace, the noise stops.

"It is always like that?"

"Don't change the subject." She hisses at me before putting down the divider by pressing a button in the door. "Ralph, turn around. We're driving home. Oliver's not doing good."

"Yes, Mrs. Bolton."

"No!" I complain. "We will stay. How long is this going to take? Another hour?"

Josephine shakes her head, "Don't overestimate yourself."

"We'll go in. Stay for an hour and then go home. It would look very bad if we just drive home like that." I remind her.

"It would also look bad if you'd break down in the middle of the room."

I decide to stare her down.

She sighs, "Fine. But not more than an hour and if you start feeling worse give me some sort of sign."

"I promise."

The car stops at the official entrance. I recognise it from the wedding photos of Catherine and William. Two royal servants in red uniform open the doors of the car and both get out. It's weird to be back here. Especially since it's such an important and official event.

Josephine grabs my hand and we walk down the long red carpeted hallway with lots of royal oil paintings, sculptures and hanging crystal chandeliers. It's so beautiful and historic!

We walk for about five minutes in total silence. The hallway is also completely empty. Eventually, we stop at a side entrance to the state banquet room. It's a massive room that's full of people in exquisite designer clothes. The women are all in floor length dresses and the men are in suits just black me. Everyone is chatting with a glass of champagne in their hands, sparkling diamonds on their hands, wrists, necks and ears for the women and expensive watches for the men.

It's the party of the Crème de la Crème.

I don't know why but the people seem so small in this never ending room. A big band is playing on the stage. Perfectly made tables are at one end of the room with a throne like chair for the King and the Queen.

It's bizarre to be here - but also kind of cool.

"Ready?" Josephine asks me for the hundredth time.

I nod and squeeze her hand softly, "Let's get this party started."

"Remember to tell me if it gets worse." My wife gives me a small smile before we step in. People start turning their heads and staring at us immediately. Suddenly, we're more interesting than their neighbour. It's weird.

It feels like I'm being handed on the silver platter.

How is Josephine doing this on almost daily basis?

Suddenly a man in a black tuxedo approaches us very discreetly. He must be one of those royal team members that take everyone to their seats. The Office of the Marshal of The Court or something. "Mr. and Mrs. Bolton,"

"Yes?"

"His Majesty has asked for a private meeting." The man says. "If you would follow me. I'll escort you to the Throne room."

Josephine

We follow the staff down a red carpet hallway, passing many transom windows of this magnificent old building. Eventually, we stop at big wooden doors and the staff knock before opening the white double doors. Oliver and me step into the throne room at Buckingham Palace. The Throne Room at Buckingham Palace summons up the history and pageantry associated with the working Monarchy like no other space in the building. Over the past two centuries, the room has had many uses: from the setting for spectacular balls in the reign of Queen Victoria to Investitures held by King George V. Today it is a place where members of the Royal Family host occasions for the general public and international political figures as well as their own personal special occasions. It's a room for small state dinners and big meetings. I haven't been in here a lot but I know it's used for official purposes only, which is why this choice of room is so worrying. I have no idea why The King would call Oliver and me in at all and especially today as it's his official birthday party. He should be in the state banquet room but instead he ordered my husband and me here. Really, what's going on?! Maybe to congratulate us on our marriage in private? To plan a party in our honour?

It's just so confusing!

We turn around and stare at His Majesty, The Prince and Princess of Wales, The Duke and Duchess of Oxford and The Duke and Duchess of Windsor. What's up with all these HRH?

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid I don't know what caused this... great honour." I mumble, totally confused. Is this about another royal baby announcement? A royal tour? Is this about the commonwealth countries? Or Oxford Royal?

"It's time to reveal my gift to you." Charles walks over to us and embraces us each. "I'm very delighted about this marriage."

"A gift for us?" My husband's just as confused as me.

"Yes. I've spend a very long time thinking about how to honour your outstanding work and the hard labour that you've been putting into The Royal Foundation of the Oxfords." Charles starts explaining this get-together. "As you know, the positions of the Commonwealth Trust are still open."

"I thought they were for Rory and George." I think out loud. Or maybe he has given them to Nate and Charlotte.

"They were but we came up with a better idea." George says with a smile on his lips.

"I've come to terms that the position would be perfect for you and your husband."

"Us?" Oliver asks shocked.

The jobs as president and vice-president of the Queen's Commonwealth Trust are huge! It involves doing the Commonwealth Games, the Commonwealth Championships in Taekwondo, Fancing, Judo, Rowing, Sailing, Shooting, Pool Lifesaving and Boxing; the Commonwealth Foundation, the Commonwealth of Learning, the Association of Commonwealth Universities and Commonwealth Local Government Forum. It's a job that enables you to do things most people can only dream of. Doing good in the name of the crown is a dream.

But one I never had.

"Your Majesty, with all respect, this position can be held by anyone from the royal family."

"No. I've decided to cut the funding of most of the royals except for the heir family and it's members."

That means Beatrice, Eugenie, the Wessexes, The Earl Of Essex and his kids, Zara Philips and her kids, Peter Philips and his kids are all out. Harry and Meghan would be as well if the King hadn't taken their title and thrown them to wherever as an exile. But at least Nate and Char don't have to worry about their funding being cut off, not that they don't have enough money themselves.

"I see." I mumble. "But what about Charlotte and Nate? Or Louis?"

"I've got different plans for them." The King answer's my question.

Other plans. I don't know if that's good or bad. The Prince is still studying at St. Andrews. But Char and Nate would be open for the position - if the King didn't have those plans.

And I won't know about these plans until the King has decided to let us in.

"I'm very honoured to have been offered the brilliant job, I think we both are, but no one can have this position without a HRH title. Oliver and me wouldn't be qualified." I think out loud. Such high positions stay within the royal family. They stay within.

"Which is why Nate and me came up with an idea." Charlotte says.

"One we fully support." Catherine backs her daughter up while her husband just smiles at us.

"It was a wonderful idea." George says.

Okay, what's going on? Suddenly, this doesn't feel like a friendly family meeting, but a very official meeting. One that requires all relevant royal parties to be available. "Am I getting a GCVO? And Oliver a GKVO?" But even the biggest honour of the king wouldn't be enough to become president and vice-president of the Commonwealth Trust. It also wouldn't explain this high density of HRHs in the room.

"Better." Charlotte grins.

"Way better." George says with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Oliver breathes out.

"I'm giving you the Dukedom of Clarence." Charles tells us with a bright smile.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask him confused. "You're giving us a dukedom?"

"What does that mean?" Oliver asks confused.

"It means you will be joining the Royal Family without marrying into the royal family." George explains to my husband. It's something that has never been done in the British Royal history!

I look at Rory, who has been as quiet as a mouse. She knew about this and didn't tell me?! She knows I don't want to become a Royal! I love my life the way it is and especially the freedom that I have.

"You would be Their Royal Highnesses The Duke and Duchess of Clarence." William tells us. "Without the entitlement to the throne."

"We would be royals?" Oliver asks them shocked.

"Yes." Catherine's smile is so bright that it nearly blends me.

Not just any royals. We would be a Duke and a Duchess. That's the highest honour and title below the King. We'd have no entitlement to the throne but we'd have a title most people dream of.

"And where would we live? I mean, I'm sure we can't stay at the penthouse we live in right now."

"No. You'd be living at the grounds of Kensington Palace."

"At Nottingham Cottage." William concretes his wife's words.

"That's too small. I'm pregnant." I breathe out without thinking. I didn't want my brother and best friend to find it out that way but I guess I have no choice now.

"That's wonderful!" Charles says. "A royal baby!"

A royal?! The walnut is not a royal! "Your Majesty, with all respect and gratitude... I have to discuss this with my husband first before giving you any answer."

"Yes, of course. I know you're a very independent woman and this title comes with a few restrictions but I want you to consider the good work you could do with that title. What you've been doing with Oxford Royal, with the Bolton Foundation and with the social media platforms of my grandchildren is just the start. What you have done with that could be done with all Commonwealth. It would be your main job. Both of your jobs." He says to us.

That means Christmas Morning Walks. Trooping the colour. Easter. Ascot. Remembrance Day Service. Garden Parties. Birthdays.

Scrutiny. Criticism. Hatred. Lots of hatred.

Especially given the fact that we would be taking Harry and Meghan's positions. A white person and a Latino. Totally unknown private figures getting appointed as ROYALS - it's a kind of scandal even I couldn't have come up with.

The world would hate us. No, they would loathe us.

But you don't say no to the King. You can't decline the King's wish. It's the monarch for bloody sake! It's my sister's grandpa-in-law! I can't upset him!

"Of course. I'm giving you six weeks." The King says.

That's just before Remembrance Week in November.

Suddenly the doors swing open and a group of people rush in, "Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, it's time to welcome the guests."

"Oh, yes. Sorry, dear. Congratulations on your pregnancy." Catherine embraces me before turning her attention to Oliver with the same warm hug. "I would love to welcome you to the family." Then she leaves with her husband.

"Work's calling." Charles says with a grin on his lips before embracing us again. Of course for him this official birthday party is considered work. He only lets go when he's at home at Highgrove House, his weekend estate. "I hope you will consider this special offer. It's a once in a lifetime chance." With that he leaves us alone.

Alone with Rory, George, Char and Nate.

I don't know whom I am the most furious with. Rory, who knew and didn't tell me or Char for coming up with this idiotic idea?!

I stare at my best friend and suddenly a light bulb goes off in my brain. "You sold me!" I breathe out.

"What's she talking about?" Rory asks them.

"I am their ticket to make up with the King!" I hiss while pointing at them. "You chose to throw Oliver and me into the fire just so the King is no longer mad at you!"

"I told you she would figure it out." Nate mumbles while looking at the floor.

"Are you fucking nuts?!" Oliver explodes out of the sudden. I don't know why getting a royal title offered didn't piss him off but this does. "You're using my wife, my family, your sister, just to please your king?!"

"He's your King as well." Nate answers, still sounding like a shy mouse.

"Oh my God, I can't believe this!" I yell at them. "I'm not a player in your chess game! You don't use people when you play against the King! You could've done that in other ways!"

"But we ran out of options, okay?!" Charlotte hisses back at me. "Nothing we did pleased him! Nothing we said pleased him! He hasn't spent more than half an hour with his great-granddaughters! What were we suppose to do?!"

"Anything but this!" I yell back. "Charlotte, you know exactly that no one says no to the King! I can't turn his offer down!"

"So, we have to become royals?!" My husband asks me shocked. "We have no free will?!"

I look at my brother. "What about you? What will you get out of this? Charlotte gets her peace and a royal tour I assume. To Australia as it's tradition, maybe? But you? A tour and peace doesn't do it for you, Nate. I know you. You're getting some kind of work opportunity, aren't you?"

"Invictus."

My eyes widen, "You're getting the Invictus Games from Harry?"

Nate shrugs, "Harry's no longer working as a royal so the job is free."

"You fucking traded me for one bloody sports event?!" I yell at him. He's even worse than Charlotte! "I am your sister and you-" I shake my head in disbelief at all of this bullshit and shady behaviour. George told them to stop playing the game and start playing the player - and I guess that's exactly what they did. They used me and my relationship with the King yo brainwash him into thinking I would be the right fit for the Commonwealth Trust.

This is making me sick!

I look at my sister. She should've been my protection shield but she wasn't. She's not better than our lovely brother and his wife! "What about you?!"

"I tried to tell them it's a bad idea, but they didn't listen! They talked to Catherine and Wills about it and they agreed that this was the last option-"

"Why didn't you fucking stop them! Be the fucking future Queen you will be for Christ's sake! Fuck, Rory! You should've protected me!"

"I... I was trying."

"Trying?! That didn't sound like much trying to me! You are a coward!"

"Woah, stop right there. Do you know how many sleepless nights we've had because of that?!" George says to me.

"I don't care how many fucking sleepless nights you had! You shouldn't have let them plant this ridiculous idea into the King's head!"

"Then we'll just say no." Oliver says with a shrug.

He doesn't get it. Of course he doesn't, he's no Brit. He doesn't have the understanding of the Royal Family as I do. I growl in frustration. They have put me into an unbelievable position. "No, we can't say no! You don't say no to the monarch no matter what he wants. He is the most respected and loved person in Britain. He is your boss."

"Bloody hell, we're stuck in this?!" My husband breathes out shocked.

"Yes we are. But we have six weeks to settle our affairs." I run my fingers through my hair. "Was Clarence your idea as well?"

"No, that came from the King." George explains. "And I don't think it was unintentional."

I look at Charlotte. She always wanted the Clarence title and the King was aware of it I think. Maybe that's why he's offering it to me. "You're okay with that?"

She shrugs, "A small defeat in the big picture. If that means the King will stop bullying us, give us patronages and a foundation than that's a price I'm happy to pay."

It's not like she has a choice anyway. Just like Oliver and me don't have a choice.

Or do we?

"Fuck you, Charlotte!" I explode. "You know what, no. Actually fuck all of you! You've done a terrible mistake and I will never forgive you for this! The future of the monarchy is in jeopardy for this very reason! You threw your own sister, your own blood, out to the lion to eat!" I yell at them. "I'm done! I'm done with all of you!"

With that I leave the fucking throne room of Buckingham Palace.

I will never forgive them for what they did.

Oliver follows me and finds me leaning against the panelled wall in the hallway. "We're going home!" I hiss at him.

He agrees with me without a word. He grabs my hand and leads me down the hallway.

This night was a bloody disaster and I will make my siblings and in-laws pay for what they've done.

This is not over yet.

Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!

What do you think of the King's gift to Jo and Oliver? Will they accept it and their new jobs?

Are Oliver and Jo really going to visit a BDSM club? Like mother, like daughter? ;)

How will Jo react when Oliver surprises her with the vernissage?

Please review!

In gratitude,

Nicole