Disclaimer: I don't own The Royals. So enjoy!
For in my day I have had many bitter and painful experiences in war and on the stormy seas. So let this new disaster come. It only makes one more.
It was the champagne fountain.
The delicate, priceless piece of art was missing.
"WHAT?!" Helena thundered. "WHO DID THIS? WHICH THRICE-DAMNED SON OF A WHORE-"
Liam ran into the room. "What's happened?"
"The fountain!" His mother wailed. "It's gone!"
"Fountain? GONE?!" He blinked. "Somebody stole the fountain?" Everyone turned to look sceptically at the garden fountain outside.
"NO! Not the garden fountain, the champagne!"
Maribel gave a gasp. "Somebody stole the champagne?"
"N-" Helena froze, mid-word. "Mr. Hill, I want members of security posted to the wine cellars." She said immediately. "If anyone's trying to guzzle or smuggle them out without my permission, you have my full approval for a restraint."
"Yes, ma'am." James Hill decided it was best not to question it.
"The champagne hasn't been stolen," Helena said through gritted teeth. Yet. "But the champagne fountain, Font of My Love, has!"
Gasps of shock and horror echoed from all around.
Liam blinked. "But where did it go?"
"Do you think I would be asking if I knew?" His mother exclaimed.
"All security is reviewing the perimeter around the palace," Jasper announced. "If anyone's made off with the champagne fountain they won't get very far."
"This is a disaster!" Eleanor shouted. "That thing was a priceless work of art, it cost an arm and a leg- a royal arm and a leg!Robert's!"
"It'll cost all the heads in Britain if we don't recover it," Rachel warned. "That fountain was rented by not only Manetas, but the Archduchess and Princess Royal of Austria. They made this together, and it was the archduchess that loaned the fountain to her brother and sister-in-law, Princess Aglaia's cousin, for their wedding. And Monaco's princely family are expecting it for their wedding. They all could file a lawsuit if they think we're being careless."
"Everyone," Helena commanded people's attention. "We need to spread out. Keep moving until we find that fountain. I don't care if you're rich, I don't care if you're poor, I don't care if you're having a drink or scrubbing the toilets-" she frowned. "On second thought, if you are cleaning the lavatories then it's best if you continue. We don't want any toilet water mixing with our champagne. It ruins the expensive taste. But no one, royal or otherwise, shall rest until we find that fountain!"
"What's going on here?" The bride and groom appeared. Everyone had an Oh, shit look on their faces.
"Um…" Helena hesitated.
"The fountain!" Len blurted. "It's missing!"
"WHAT?!" That was both of them.
"Missing?!" Robert looked furious. "How?"
"We think it may have been stolen, your majesty," Jasper confessed.
Robert turned a furious gaze towards everyone in the room. Usually he was in control, and he still was, but his dark blue eyes were furious. "What happened?"
"Your majesty," Rachel spoke up. "The fountain was here this entire time. Then there was an emergency in the other room. Someone had left a cigarette out next to a curtain and, well, it caught fire. Everyone scrambled to put it out, but by the time we replaced the curtain, when we headed back, the champagne fountain was missing."
Robert exhaled he tried to remain calm. Aglaia looked absolutely horrified and upset. "I don't care what anyone is doing," he warned them. "I don't care how long it takes. I don't care if the person involved are royalty or are mopping the floors for us. No one stops until we find that fountain."
Everyone was very still in the room. "Understood?"
"Yes sir," was chorused throughout the room. Everyone scrambled to obey.
"Does that include us?" Penelope asked, dopey as ever. "I mean, we're royalty so… Right. Royalty or mopping the floors. We have to, like, mop the floors." She looked aghast at her sister.
"Or we could pretend we're just mopping the floors," Maribel suggested excitedly. "So we don't have to pretend we're looking!"
"Great idea!" Both sisters took off their outlandish scarves and plopped to the ground, bums up pretending to wipe fanatically whenever somebody passed.
"I can't believe this!" Queen Anastasia raged. "The Font of My Love! It's a priceless, exquisite work of art! Made by Manetas and the archduchess. Once again, a priceless treasure has been lost due to carelessness upon English soil!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Helena asked, furiously.
"Only that Michelangelo's Sleeping Cupid, was priceless too! A piece of such breathtaking beauty, created by Michelangelo in the form of a sleeping Cupid, fought over by the highest of the high in Renaissance Italy and the rest of Europe. So beautiful it moved even the hardest and most savage or stone-hearted! In 1698 the sculpture was likely lost in the Palace of Whitehall in London, during the great fire! And now this has happened again!" She glared.
"The Monegasques will be furious!" She warned. "The Austrian and Hungarian imperial family will have our heads! Manetas could take back the wedding rings-"
"He wouldn't dare," Helena warned. "If it hasn't already been paid for-"
"It has," she insisted.
"Not the full price! Careless stupidity," Anastasia hissed. "And now I suppose, you wish to cover it up?"
"Unless you wish to provide a reasonable explanation to the world press and media, and some serious national disgrace and embarrassment-"
"Your disgrace," she corrected. "Your embarrassment."
"Well, your daughter is going to marry into our family," Helena said. "And become the next queen. So whatever affects us, affects her as well. Bite that, you bitch."
Anastasia gave a chilling smile. "You think you're so clever. So subtle. So smart. In reality, you're about as subtle as when a horse falls on you, which it will sooner or later."
Helena fumed. "You had better find that fountain." Anastasia warned. "Or there will be no wedding. I thought we agreed to this beforehand: no scandal, no nasty surprises. You've already broken it- once! Our security guard was poisoned. There is no way in hell we are going to give our priceless, only daughter, Greece's royal princess, the titular Princess of Crete and of Denmark to a family riddled with turbulence, carelessness, scandal, corruption and debauchery." She spat.
"The other royal families, and presidents have already been warned against you! Why do you think no one's invited you overseas, or they hardly take your invitations, Queen Helena? Only your late husband, whom you've betrayed for some gigolo, and your eldest son retains their untarnished, honourable reputation. Ever since the news of the engagement occurred, we've had countless relatives from Greece and Denmark, and other royal counterparts from not just Europe, but Asia, Oceania and the Middle-East, warning us about the likes of you, and questioning our sanity in giving our only daughter- my baby- over to you people!" Anastasia snarled. "And now this! Disaster after disaster and rot always spreads! I kept my silence, knowing how my daughter felt over your eldest son, personally, she couldn't care less if he was a gardener, but alas, he comes with you! The whole package! And my daughter's life may be in jeopardy! Someone tried to poison her!"
"They tried to poison my son too," Helena gritted her teeth.
"You seemed to have coped with it well last time," Anastasia gave a menacing smile. "After all, didn't you have another son? Isn't that what you thought? Isn't that what you showed the world? Parading one son soon after his brother reportedly passed away?"
Helena struggled not to slap her.
Liam struggled against James Hill and Eleanor against Jasper. Jasper gave stern looks to both of them. They did not want an international diplomatic crisis, or to make things worse.
"Your list of enemies and incompetence never fails to astound me," Queen Anastasia, the English queen's rival, said. "Just remember, the Greek Ministerial Council, the Greek parliament, the Danish cabinet and more can easily revoke their permission for your son to marry our daughter if we have solid evidence and solid proof that her life is in danger- and that she may be dishonoured or her reputation disgraced by the actions of her husband-to-be's family. You have no idea how much she is loved in both countries! And how would you answer to the hopeful, eager masses who view this marriage as a symbol of renewal, hope, life, unity and true love? To your son who's had to fight to marry this one woman?"
Helena froze.
"Find that fountain," Anastasia finally said. "And whoever's behind this!" She strode back and slammed the doors behind her.
"Ooh, that bitch!" Helena fumed as she strode away, angrier than anyone had ever seen her.
"Have you ever considered that the cigarette might've been a distraction?" Liam asked.
"Well, of course it was," Helena grumbled. "It was the only way to get to the fountain without anyone noticing! A fire tends to be urgent! Buckingham Palace got burnt when someone left something without putting it out!"
The Henstridge family had since moved into Blenheim Palace, during the late years and early reign of King Simon's father and Simon himself. For some reason, Buckingham had never been renovated and refurbished. It cost too much money and in recent years the funds had gone for, ahem, other interest, but while some argued that it was a waste of space and money to preserve from further ruin, people in general could not bear to tear down this priceless symbol of the British nation and monarchy."
"Well, what are we going to do?" Len demanded. "We can't not have the wedding, and we can't have the wedding without the fountain!"
"It'll be worse than that, your highness," Rachel said grimly. They had reached the queen's quarters. "The rings were made also by the sculptor Manetas. It was him who designed it, and he paid the jewellers from Wales to supply him with the raw materials. But it was the Archduchess, the Emperor of Austria's daughter who was the genius who taught him how to sculpt and make jewellery. And Manetas still has close ties to her. They made that fountain together and loaned it to her brother and Princess Aglaia's cousin for their wedding. The rings might've been paid, but not the full price. Not yet, until after the wedding. Sorry, but it's the custom here. Manetas and the Archduchess could easily file a lawsuit, and refuse to hand over the rings for the wedding. Not only that, but if word gets out about the poisoning and the scandal-"
"And then it's bye-bye romance and true love," Len said sarcastically. "Yeah. We heard what the queen said. Too much racy scandal and debauchery in this family."
"Well, who was the last person who'd seen it?" Liam asked.
Jasper froze. "Cyrus."
"WHAT?!"
"He was there in the room with his ex-wife." Jasper said in realisation. "What?" Helena raged. "I specifically gave orders that he won't be allowed within three-and-a-half metres of that fountain!"
Liam was about to say something, then he stopped. "Why three-and-a-half metres?" He asked.
"So he could look at it, and moon pathetically towards the artwork's beauty, the romance and the alcohol. All at once."
"Wow, that seems a bit too cruel," Len muttered.
"Cruelty is what keeps our enemies in line, dear," Helena reassured her. "Like Edward IV finds out, the only way to stamp out a former king is to bludgeon him to death. Or to drown his rival brother in a barrel of wine." Her eyes gleamed. "A barrel of Greek wine. Malmsey, I recall."
Liam stared. "What, so you're suggesting that we drown Cyrus in a barrel of wine?"
Seriously? All their faces said.
"Well, the Wars of the Roses did inspire Game of Thrones," Helena stated. "But no, unfortunately, we can't do that anymore. Hmm, there has to be a loophole," she muttered.
Eleanor shook her head. "Back to the fountain."
"Right." Her mother snapped back to the original line of thought. "Now where to find that son of a bitch."
"You son of a bitch!" Helena fumed as she barged into Cyrus' suite.
"And here we go again," Cyrus muttered, still in his armchair. "What?"
"The fountain!" Helena fumed. "That gold champagne fountain."
"You mean the Font of My Love?" Cyrus snorted. "I didn't steal it. Your staff could testify at my trial- wait, you're not going to put me on trial, because it's a supreme embarrassment and according to Queen Anastasia, that's more than enough to rip your son's beloved bride away from his grasp. He's never going to forgive you for that either."
Helena didn't question how Cyrus knew about the argument. He always had his spies, toadies and cronies about him. She strode over to him and forcefully shoved his chair around, tipping it forward and propelling him to tumble to the floor.
"Ugh, as if I thought life could not get more degrading." Cyrus muttered, his face pressed against the polished hardwood. "You really think it was me?"
"Who else?" Helena raged. "And the poison? You've killed people before!"
"So has your dear mother," Cyrus spat. "As I recall, she poisoned Violet."
"And so now you've taken revenge by trying to poison Robert's bride," Helena said savagely.
"Poison her?" Cyrus looked up. And for once it registered to Helena that his eyes were blood-shot, his skin was waxy and sallow. There were purple circles under his eyes.
"I lost the love of my life," Cyrus said quietly. "My one true love! Simon lost his! Did you really think that I would wish that pain upon anyone in this whole world, least of whom happens to be my favourite nephew? That may not be much, but it's something!" He spat.
Helena regarded him quietly. "You took Alistair Lacey away from me," she reminded him.
"And you seem to have found happiness with your new Lord Chamberlain, so save it, Helena. Don't act all Guinevere and Lancelot with me." Cyrus groggily stood up, clutching a table to keep him upright.
Cyrus groaned when he saw an empty decanter. "So inconvenient," he moaned.
"I didn't steal your priceless champagne fountain," Cyrus stated. "And I didn't have someone steal it from you either. Not when using a cigarette to burn things up. In case you haven't noticed, I only used to smoke the finest cigars. Cuban. And then I had cancer and I was advised to stop if I didn't want to make things any worse. And if I wanted to poison someone, I wouldn't have gone through with the trouble by importing a rare and pretty flower, with an obvious poison from some distant country, which isn't even the deadliest and fastest-acting poison in the book. Deadly Nightshade. Arsenic. Cyanide. Hemlock, if you wanted Greek." He scoffed. "But not oleander."
Helena was silent. She knew he was right.
"Besides, whoever's trying to kill either one of them wasn't quite so keen into doing it as you might've thought," Cyrus remarked, matter-of-factly. "Oleander and a missing fountain? A fire that could easily be put out, curtains that could easily be replaced? Sounds like someone's certainly trying to prevent the upcoming marriage more than commit regicide."
"It's still treason!" Helena spat. "And have no doubt, I will be watching you, Cyrus." She strode out of the room.
Cyrus sighed. "So inconvenient," he said, gazing forlornly at an empty decanter.
Penelope and Maribel were still mopping the floors, their newly-bleached bums right in the air, shown through their stockings.
"How long is this going to take?" Penelope asked.
Maribel shrugged. "Dunno. Until they find the fountain. King's orders."
They kept on 'mopping.'
"I can't believe this," Aglaia tried to keep calm.
"Hush," Robert shushed, but his face was beginning to register the strain of the day.
He pressed and held her close to him. "We'll get through this," he promised.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you," Aglaia responded. "But they did say: if another scandal breaks out-"
Robert's hold tightened around her. "I know," he said softly. "I know."
And he would do whatever it took to stop it.
The next morning, Helena had received an audience.
"Your majesty, disturbing rumours have run rampant." Rani, the prime minister's deputy sat before her.
Helena forced a smile. "Rumours?"
"Yes, about the world-famous champagne fountain, Font of My Love." She continued. "A priceless work of art. Comparable to Renaissance masters, I've been told." Her eyes narrowed. "There are rumours that it has been stolen."
Helena's smile was plastered firmly on her face.
"I assure you, I have heard nothing of the sort." Helena retorted gently.
"Oh, I don't doubt it," Rani said, almost mockingly. Helena didn't know who was worse; this woman or Queen Anastasia. "Because it would be a terrible disaster beyond belief for Britain if we lost the fountain."
Everyone fell into a deadly silence. Eleanor and Liam were uncharacteristically quiet, as was Jasper and Rachel.
"As I've said, this is a priceless work of art, and belongs, in part, to their creators: a famous Greek sculptor, and an even more famous royal artist who has shown the world that despite her high birth, she is more than capable of rising above daily drudgery on her own skills, talents and hard work," Rani said, sweet as poisoned honey. "And as this is a work of art, made by artisans renowned worldwide… It would be a supreme embarrassment, no exaggeration, sadly, for Britain to the international community if it were to be lost on British soil. It would be especially unfortunate if the international community, including the Austro-Hungarian imperial family, were to hear that it has been lost when it is under contract with Britain's royal family. Not to mention, the compensation money for the artisans and the Monegasque princely family who wishes to rent it next, will be enormous. There is a list to hire that priceless piece of art, and already people are being reminded of Michelangelo's Sleeping Cupid which was destroyed in London." Her eyes were icy.
"Our reputations are at risk. I hope you understand, your majesty."
Helena's eyes narrowed in rage. Queen Anastasia. Rani. She had had more than enough.
"I assure you," she ground out. "That everything is proceeding as smoothly as possible."
"Of course," Rani said, a hint of sarcasm barely noticeable. "Because we have had to reassure the Greek and Danish Cabinet ministers and MPs that the princess, as our future queen, will be in good hands. Nothing will ever damage her honour or reputation." She leaned forwards. "Not even a hint of embarrassment. Besides, I heard that Manetas was making the wedding rings. That, I assume proves that all is well, if the wedding is going ahead."
Right. Helena needed alcohol, good strong alcohol to get through this mess.
"But another more disturbing rumour has reached our ears in Downing Street, I assume it's not true," Rani continued sweet as ever.
"Another rumour? My God, these people never seem to stop babbling when free champagne is handed out." Helena remarked, queenly as ever.
Rani gave a smirk. "The rumour that says that one of the Greek royal bodyguards was attacked last night."
"Um, that's not true, pardon my interruption," Jasper interrupted. "One of the bodyguards did indeed get into an accident, but it was because he decided to ingest some brownies that were had macadamia nuts. He's allergic to them." He lied.
"Oh," If Rani was disappointed, she did not show it. "Of course, thank you. There were rumours of poison," she laughed softly.
"Absurd," Helena retorted, laughing.
"Yes," Len laughed, encouraging the atmosphere, Liam gave a mechanical smile but could not join in.
"See everything's fine," Helena forced out. "Everything is going according to plan."
"Everything is hell in a handbasket!" Helena fumed later on. "Or a very expensive Prada!"
She turned to Spencer and Rachel. "Any news on the fountain?"
They both shook their heads. "None whatsoever, ma'am." Spencer said forlornly.
"Confound it," Helena cursed. "So we've lost the fountain. We may be facing international public embarrassment and disgrace like never before- and apparently based on what everyone's been saying, that's something! We may be seen to be incompetent, careless, debauched, spendthrift, scandal-riddled, and much worse!" She collapsed onto a chaise lounge. "Very bad! Bad Cyrus!"
Spencer tried to reason with her. "Your majesty, surely Cyrus would never do anything that might be traced back to him? Quite frankly, he is quite clever."
"Yes, you're right, damn it." Helena groaned. "So who and most importantly, where can it possibly be?" She moaned and leaned back. "It can never get worse than this!"
Unfortunately for Helena, Robert, Aglaia, Liam, Eleanor, Jasper, Rachel, Cyrus and just about anyone involved, it was only the beginning.
"SKATA!" The Greek sculptor swore. "You're telling me that there are rumours that the fountain- my champagne fountain- has been stolen?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Spencer pasted a convincing, sympathetic face to the sculptor.
"Damn them," Manetas cursed. "This is much trouble!" He growled. "That fountain is going to Monte Carlo, to the Prince's Palace next, for their wedding. And countless aristocrats and billionaires, even a few lucky millionaires are on the waiting list. If they think it's gone-"
"Don't worry, sir, we'll just assure them it's just rumours," Spencer said pleasantly.
"Better proof than speculation," Manetas growled. "I want that fountain displayed the night before the wedding. I will be there- along with a few others- at the Pre-wedding concert's after-party."
Spencer froze. Oh shit. That was written all over his face, but thankfully, Manetas who was pacing furiously, did not see.
"Of course, it had better not be stolen for real," he said threateningly.
"Of course not, sir." Spencer forced. "No need to worry."
When he turned away with Rachel, he muttered: "We are so doomed."
"I just don't understand," Liam complained. "How did a priceless work of art be left unguarded and go missing in less than thirty minutes?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Jasper muttered.
Robert had walked in the room, with Len beside him. "This is an actual disaster," he announced. "Not just for the wedding-"
"Never mind that the sculptor's the one who did your wedding rings, though the materials were mined here," Len pointed out.
"Right," Robbie sighed. "And we haven't paid the full price, because it's customary to pay them after the event. But the immediate problem is, what happened to the fountain?"
"Well, Mum's under the impression that Uncle Cyrus-" Eleanor began.
Robert shook his head. "You can't blame Uncle Cyrus for every single thing that goes wrong."
"Why not?" Len shrugged.
"For starters, we still haven't solved whoever poisoned that guard," Robert said.
"No," Aglaia stepped into the room. Robert stood. "Darling. I didn't expect you back so soon."
Aglaia shook her head. "It just occurred to me. The poisoning; not very well done. The fountain; a major incident which could potentially cause great embarrassment and disgrace. Someone isn't trying to kill, here. Whoever's behind this, they want to make you guys look bad."
Everyone stared at one another.
"Think about it," Laia insisted. "That thing is priceless. It's sought after by other royals for their wedding. When we saw that thing at my cousin's wedding in Vienna… Everyone was in awe. It's a work of art, by a master artist and her apprentice, who is now a famous sculptor in his own right. Internationally renowned and world-famous to say the least. And the Ministerial Council and Danish Cabinet have made it clear, they don't want any scandals or mildly interesting incidents to occur. Or else they would withdraw their permission." She sighed at Robert. "That was the agreement."
"Yeah, it was." Robert said quietly. "I did give my word."
"You can't control this," Aglaia said gently. "Robbie, this isn't your fault. But whoever is behind this will try to make it look like you guys- the British royal family and the palace staff and security- look like you're to blame. That's beyond embarrassing. This could have serious consequences for you guys and your international standing. Not just your reputation, but your place in several important organisations. If you are seen as careless, and even mildly incompetent, it's not just a drop in invitations to international conventions, talks, treaties and galas and celebratory events. It's everything. Your seat in important organisations. Things like world health, preservation of antiques and works of art, and even climate change may refuse to do business or talks and agreements with any of you. Especially as my cousin's new family- one of whom created that fountain- is high in standing in many of those."
Robert sat on the couch. His hands covered his face. "I know."
"So," Aglaia stated. "Who was the last one to see it?"
"Well, that would be me, your highness." Jasper spoke up.
"This was before the fire incident?"
"Yeah," Jasper frowned thoughtfully. "I think-" he frowned.
"There were two guys bringing in a potted plant the other day," he remembered. "We didn't pay much notice to it, it didn't have any flowers, in any case, but for a moment, I think I saw a red one."
"Oleanders come in different shades, but red is one of them." Aglaia stated. "This is a good start."
"Yes," Robert looked up. He stood.
"Did you see what the men looked like?"
"They were the same palace staff bringing in the delivery."
"Where is this plant now?" Aglaia asked.
Jasper's eyes widened. "In the dining hall."
They rushed there as quickly as possible.
"There." Jasper pointed.
Aglaia leaned towards it. "It has the same erect stems, but apart from that, they're not the same." She looked at the others. "I've gardened with my mother as a young girl. This isn't oleander."
"But the flower," Jasper began. "I had a brief glimpse of it, but it looked the same."
Robert knelt. "Where is the flower?"
"There," Aglaia pointed. And it was oleander. Fuchsia-coloured in the dim light, Aglaia stopped them from touching it.
"It could still have fingerprints." She breathed. "They've hidden the flower there."
"Well, none of our security personnel are expert botanists," Robert reasoned. "They couldn't have known."
"No," she agreed. Len leaned down and squinted at the flower. It was very pretty.
"How is it still fresh?" Liam asked. "If they've brought it from a Mediterranean country-"
"At the very least," Aglaia corrected. "It could be from farther than that. North Africa, even. But see, it looks somewhat-"
"Like it's been wilted, but it hasn't." Robert said softly.
"No," Aglaia breathed. "It's been pressed. Preserved. Someone would've had time to extract the juice and essence of the plant, before it's dried. This is a fake clue. They wanted us to find this."
"A false trail," Robbie murmured thoughtfully. "Very clever."
"But they didn't want to kill us," Aglaia breathed. "That's all they want to do: stop the wedding."
"Do you have idea who might have that motive?"
Aglaia scoffed silently. "The list is endless," she said bitterly.
Robert sighed. "Our reputations have taken a nose-dive since Dad died," he said quietly.
"What did they say?" His brother asked.
Robert shrugged. "They only reminded me that my father was murdered by his own head of security who had a grudge against this family, and that my 'accident' was the same. And that my mother was publicly disgraced and admitted to an affair which resulted in my uncle taking advantage of this opportunity to dispute my brother's claim to the throne, and make himself king. Which in the end, resulted in them mistrusting him, and a fake paternity test, which is widely believed to have been the result of bribery and corruption, which means that if Aglaia were to marry into this family, her life and her reputation will be on the line." He fell silent.
"It wasn't easy to get them to agree to the engagement." Robert confessed.
"No," Aglaia said quietly. She touched his hand. He looked at her.
After that false lead, Liam was back in his room, wondering why on earth his brother was getting married. To a woman who seemed exceedingly smart, no less. It surprised him. Kathryn was no fool, and Ophelia and Gemma weren't either, but they had never seemed to use those traits as much as Aglaia suddenly did. It surprised him. Partly because he realised that Aglaia's intelligence had been suppressed by her mother and his mother arguing, her caught in the middle and trying to pacify them. Aglaia was devoted to her family, and he could tell they especially loved and doted upon her. But she wasn't as naïve as he had at first assumed her to be.
It surprised Liam. Gemma had never cared much for academics, and Ophelia while smart and sweet, did not adhere to her intelligence as much as she would- who in their circle did? Kathryn was sweet and sensible, smart too, but she had never had the guts to stand up like that and take a stand in investigating the way Aglaia did- which showed that she wasn't just smart enough to do so- she was brave.
So why did she go for Robert? Why did she want to marry him?
Liam had seen the way the Greek queen held her daughter closely (and tightly) to her. How she smothered Aglaia and it was quite clear she was unwilling to let her daughter go. Both brothers clearly showed that they were worldly and experienced, but Aglaia, despite her intelligence, was left light-years behind. Possibly because she was the youngest, possibly because she was the only girl. But undisputedly because they smothered her.
Hence the contrast of naïveté and high intelligence.
Liam sighed. He wondered why he couldn't get his brother's fiancée out of his mind. Maybe it was because he was concerned over what she was getting herself into.
Yes, that was it.
But an uncomfortable feeling persisted in telling him that it wasn't.
The king and his fiancée were holding each other close.
He watched them in the gardens. He noticed how the young king tenderly caressed her lovely face and gazed deep into those emerald eyes. No other person had eyes so vivid and richly-coloured an emerald green as hers. Nor were any pairs of green eyes so bright and clear. Her cousin, who had recently married in Vienna, had violet eyes similar in clarity and beauty, but a different shade.
The fountain that had stood on display at the imperial wedding banquet in Vienna would not be seen in London. This wedding would not take place.
One way or another, the princess would not be marrying into the Henstridge family. Not after what they had done.
A treasure was gone. Reputations destroyed. Life's works, gone down the drain.
And now they had to pay. The British monarchy was rotten to the core. Now they had to fall.
The House of Henstridge would end.
"And here comes the bridesmaid!" Len cheered.
Sarah Alice pranced around in her tutu outfit, curtsying this way and that to both princesses. Aglaia had taken a real shine to Sarah Alice, who surprisingly felt the same way. Len almost felt jealous.
"I think we should stick with white," Aglaia said. "A deep red sash for her. And white ballet shoes. Rosebuds in her hair."
"I'm starting to think roses are your favourite," Len joked.
"Wow, that obvious?" Aglaia rolled her eyes. "Classic, I know. I'm surrounded by classical statues and fluted columns. I should be used to such things."
"Mr. Caterpillar says that I won't be on my own, but you will be holding my hand." Sarah Alice said proudly to Len.
"Mr. Caterpillar?" Aglaia sounded amused.
"Jasper." Len snickered. "His eyebrows look like caterpillars." Sarah Alice explained.
Aglaia bit back a fit of laughter. "Oh. Okay then."
"Well," she sighed. "I think I've decided to go with Mr. Bawker's design."
Eleanor blinked. "You sure?"
Aglaia said, "Yeah, I'm sure. Of course I'm not sure. But they don't hate it so much so..."
"Oh. Yeah." Len nodded sagely.
"What dress will you be wearing to the ball and wedding?"
"Well, I'm not allowed to say." Aglaia winked at Sarah Alice "It's a surprise."
"A nice surprise?"
"Hopefully a very nice one." She smiled.
Little did she know, the wedding would be hard to come by.
Maribel and Penelope snored on the hardwood floor. Helena stood there, hands on her hips, sighing at the two pathetic, crazily-dressed lumps that were her nieces.
Sighing, Helena reviewed the case of the golden fountain. Gone. Palace had sealed all perimeters. Nothing.
Of course, Blenheim Palace had a hundred-and-eighty-seven rooms and two-thousand acres of land so… Yes, that would be a problem.
Helena sighed and left the two red-haired princesses slumped on the floor.
What to do? They were facing international disgrace, embarrassment and further ostracization from other royal houses. As much as Helena hated Anastasia, this marriage was the Henstridges' only chance to reconnect to the wider world. After so many rumours of corruption, debauchery, back-stabbing, scandals and more (can't keep a lid on everything), including the proven DNA fiasco, powerful government figures, heads-of-state and royals from other countries were giving the Henstridges- and by extension, the British government- a wide berth. It did not help that Cyrus actually threw money to the crowds and placed a reporter in a cage with newspaper!
So in other words, they were under pressure. And while it was okay (not in Helena's mind!), for the British royals to be ostracised and shunned, it was not okay for the British government to be so! It alienated Britain, and made prices of imported goods rise. That included Hermes Birkin bags, Louboutin Shoes and Van Cleef & Arpels jewels from the continent, and olive oil (from Greece), silk (Turkish and Italian) and so much more. Brexit certainly did not help either. It was becoming increasingly difficult, apparently, to even travel to Monaco, Vienna, Milan or Paris. A royal marriage was a start-
"So we need this wedding," Helena insisted. "We cannot thrive without it."
Everyone stared at her.
Sarah Alice put up her hand. Honestly, who let a child into such an important meeting as this.
Helena suppressed a sigh. "Yes, Sarah Alice."
"So the wedding is all planned and ready? Why can't it be now?"
"Well, I'm afraid we have to wait- we have to invite a lot of people."
"I thought they sent back our invitations," Liam spoke up.
Helena fumed silently. "Not anymore. They've accepted. They're coming. I want everyone- and by everyone, I mean everyone- on their best behaviour. And that includes you, Cyrus. And your daughters." She zeroed in on them.
"Halos of an angel," Cyrus sighed. "Might as well wear that to the ball, idiots of my loins."
"What about the fountain?" Eleanor asked.
"Well, we're working on it," Helena blustered unconvincingly.
"In other words, we're doomed," Cyrus continued as he took a swig.
"I mean it!" Helena fumed out loud. "No scandals, no mistakes, nothing that will get people so much as whispering, about mildly amusing things, not even a broken teacup!" She stamped her foot on the floor, startling people. "No bad jokes, no dumb jokes, no dumb blonde and brunette jokes or lawyer jokes- or anything mildly amusing!"
"So you want us to be boring?" Eleanor asked, with a deadpan gaze.
"Well, ye- I mean, no!" Her mother shouted. "I want people to talk about how lovely and un-trashy and tacky the table centrepieces are, the floral decorations, how exquisitely delicious the food is- how very gorgeous that fountain looks, and not that it's missing! I mean, we need them to talk about very good things, not anything that might be interpreted as bad!"
She paced up and down. "I mean this is an actual disaster. We've had protests in front of Downing Street complaining that olive oil and Wiener Schnitzel, paprika and Frankfurter sausage prices have gone up! We've had pouty-faced celebs, trotting about in their high heels whining about how their trip to Monaco costs extra! One more scandal and we're finished! We might as well have had the referendum on the monarchy, because soon, the very fabric of Britain will be chucked in the Stone Age dryer and come out… Destroyed!"
Everyone was taken aback at this message. "I take it things are quite serious," Liam said slowly.
"Why do you think your brother is so rarely seen these days out of his office?" Helena demanded. "Even at dinner? Because it's a mess, and this is our one chance to fix diplomatic ties and get back as part of the wider world!
"So keep in mind, everything has to go smoothly! We can't afford any mistakes!"
For one hour, Robert was able to take Aglaia riding.
That itself was miraculous. "And this is Stormshadow- not the G.I Joe character," Robert joked. "He's my favourite."
Aglaia stroked his glossy black mane. Robert touched her fingers. His eyes met hers.
"I love you," he said quietly. She gave a small smile. "I love you too." They kissed.
Later, Aglaia found herself a lovely mare and both were trotting gaily.
"How goes work?" She asked.
Robert hesitated. He sighed. "Difficult." He admitted.
Aglaia sighed. "So it's the same." She pulled the reins closer to his horse.
Robert smiled and touched her arm, wishing they could walk together. He spotted a pond. "Let's walk from here, give these horses a rest. They could use a drink." Aglaia agreed.
They did just that, and when the horses drank, he pulled her tight to him, kissing her passionately.
It ended up becoming a bit more passionate than that. Robert pressed her against the shade of a tree. He ran his hand over her slender, shapely leg and pressed the lower parts of their anatomy together. A groan ripped from his mouth. Aglaia tried to speak through their kiss. "Not now. Not here."
"When?" Robert didn't allow her pause as he kissed her savagely. "Yes, now!"
His hands went inside her riding jacket, but Aglaia tore her mouth away. Robert ended kissing down her neck, possibly planting a hickey there in the process. he pressed himself closer, pulling her even tighter to him, eliciting a gasp.
"I thought we agreed after the wedding." Robert finally paused, sighing. "Damn it." He muttered.
"No scandals," she whispered.
"We've already done it."
"But they don't know it! Only after the wedding!"
Aglaia insisted on this. She knew they couldn't jeopardise their chances of being together. Neither of them could.
Robert sighed. "Fine." He withdrew reluctantly. "But once this is done…" His eyes gleamed. The dark blue of them turned stormy.
Aglaia flushed. "Deal?" He asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Deal," she said, amused.
"We have to get back," she insisted.
The wedding dress fitting was at five, and Aglaia knew too much time together sorely tempted them.
They got back on their horses, which was a lucky thing since some people came running up to them.
"Excuse me, your majesty, your highness," one panted. "But the prime minister's here to see you."
Robert contained a sigh. "I'll be there shortly," he promised them.
Aglaia smiled at him. Just then, he could hear people laughing in the background. "Looks like Liam and our mates are having a go," he said, absently.
"I'll go see them," she smiled at him. "Go."
He went off.
Aglaia rode back to where Liam was playing a bout of polo with one of Robert's friends, named Twysden Beckwith the Second, otherwise known as Beck.
It was a savage bout of polo. Aglaia got the slightly eerie feeling that they were trying to kill one another.
She stepped off her horse and walked forwards. Len spotted her first. "Hey!" She cheered. Penelope and Maribel simultaneously greeted her.
"I take it you're enjoying some time off too," Aglaia noted amused. She glanced at where Alexios was in deep discussion with some black-clad security guards. It looked serious. She kissed Len on both cheeks.
"Where's Robbie?" Len asked.
"He had to go back to work," Aglaia said, somewhat sadly. "Things are tense for him now." Eleanor nodded. So, their mum wasn't exaggerating. "It's getting harder to spend time with him."
"Your royal highness," Beck cheered as he rode his horse to a gallop, then stopped. "How nice to finally see you again! But where's the king?"
"Busy working," Aglaia said with a smile. "Urgent matters of state." Liam rode to a stop beside Beck.
"Aglaia," he said in surprise. "Hello, Liam," she smiled warmly at him. Liam's heart sputtered to a stop, then started pounding blood all over his body again.
"You ride quite well," she complimented him, her emerald eyes fixed solely on him. Liam tried to remember how to think. "Um… Thank you," he said.
"Well, I had best be going," Aglaia sighed. "Why not stay a while?" Beck asked. "Enjoy the sun?" Aglaia smiled and shook her head. "I have to get this horse back and rested. She's had enough exercise, now what she needs is a good rest. She's going to be one of the horses pulling the carriage for the day." Aglaia smiled. Then she shuddered. "I hate carriage rides," she muttered.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," Liam said. "Do you know the way back?" Aglaia laughed. "I think it's… That way?" She asked, hopefully. Liam chuckled.
"I'll come with you," he offered. The two of them rode their horses to the direction of the stables.
On the way, Liam tried to find some conversation, to break the awkward silence. She was quite close to him. "So how's preparations for the wedding?" He asked her.
Aglaia's lashes swept downwards. "It's stressful," she admitted. She looked up again, and Liam was struck just by how clear and bright those emerald orbs were.
"So you'll be Robert's supporter?" She asked, somewhat hopeful. Liam nodded. "I will be."
"The Best Man," she smiled. "I hear Beck's jealous. Is that why the two of you were fighting hard-out on the pitch?" Liam froze.
"How did-" Aglaia surprised him by laughing. He stopped. He had no idea her laughter was this musical.
Once when Liam was a little boy, he had gone hiking with his father up north. Robert and Len had gone too, but their mother had stayed behind. And at night they would lie back and count the thousands of stars, uncountable, in Liam's mind, shining and shimmering in the night. Amidst the snow-crowned mountains, the starlight reflected on the cool, deep blue of the clear Scottish loch, amidst the forest, the trees with its serene, calm presence… There was wonder. There was beauty. And at the evening, the birds sang to one another amidst them.
And now Liam felt like he was hiking up the mountains again, reaching that special, special place, which had stayed in his memories as one of his happiest, his most exciting adventure. He hadn't thought about that memory in years, though.
Until today. It felt like he was reliving it again, just by riding with her.
Seeing her beauty with her smile, her laughter. She was truly like no other. And it wasn't just her unearthly beauty, but her presence, her calm, her serenity, her understanding… Everything.
Liam was mystified. Is this what Robert sees in her?
Was that why he was falling in love? Or did he aim to enjoy her and for the marriage to bring closer ties to the continent and the outside world as Mum insinuated?
Liam's gaze was fixed on her for so long that he didn't realise that something had happened.
A creaking noise was all it took for both of them to look up in bewilderment, before something came crashing down.
Onto the bride.
Liam reacted. Aglaia had grabbed her horse's reins and the mare reared, but the massive thing- whatever it was- leapt in front of it, and rolled to the side.
That was when Liam realised that it wasn't something. It was someone.
Someone dressed in black with a ski-mask.
"Aglaia!" Liam shouted.
The person- whoever he or she was- grabbed the reins of Aglaia's mare with one gloved hand and pulled the bride down with the other. Aglaia didn't even have time to react. Her riding helmet was askew, the straps broken as she was being dragged away.
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!" Liam yelled, as he raced towards them on the horse. He picked up his polo mallet and aimed an almighty swing towards the kidnapper's head.
It nearly worked. Whoever this was caught the mallet in mid-swing, and slammed his knee into Liam's middle. Liam doubled over. Through his blurred vision he could see Aglaia grabbing the guy with a choke-hold from behind to keep him from hurting Liam, only that the man twisted his arm around her, and knocked her off her feet. He swung her up like she was already a newly-wed and knocked her out with one blow. The person- most likely a guy by the silhouette- swung her over his shoulder and proceeded to walk away.
"LAIA!" Liam yelled. He staggered to his feet and prepared to punch the fellow, only for the guy to catch his fist. For a split second, Liam was stunned; he was an expert boxer. Admittedly, Robert could best him, but few people could. This guy caught his fist in mid-swing.
The kidnapper slammed his fist into Liam's gut and then onto his back. Liam staggered to the ground. He seized his chance and grabbed the kidnapper's leg- only realising belatedly that this could hurt Aglaia if she fell. But the kidnapper fell anyway, dropping the unconscious princess and rolling sideways to kick Liam in the head, before seizing his chance to-
"FREEZE!" Came a voice. Several security guards, Greek and British, came running. Liam saw a wide-eyed, pale-faced Len behind them, as the guards aimed their guns towards the would-be-kidnapper.
In a split second, the assailant grabbed a hidden knife and slashed it against Liam's arm. Liam gasped as the hot pain registered in him and he felt the blood flow. Throwing the knife in their direction, along with a few more unseen ones, they security guards broke to dodge them. Liam fell to the ground to avoid the sounds of gunfire as the mysterious kidnapper made a run for it.
The last person to stop shooting was Prince Alexios. He cursed.
"Spread out!" He ordered in Greek. "Secure the perimeter of the palace grounds. No one enters and no one leaves!" He went over to his sister.
Liam staggered over to her. "Take it easy, your highness," James Hill warned him. "Liam," Jasper tried to say. Len rushed forwards. But Liam only had eyes for the bride.
"Aglaia," he said desperately. She was held in Alexios' arms. Her emerald eyes fluttered open.
Liam sagged in relief. Things had just gotten from bad to worse.