A Royal Pain

Chapter 3 - First Interaction

Christopher's POV

The Wedding after-party is taking place at our lavishly decorated garden, in the back of Kensington Palace. There's around fifty round wooden tables covered with white silk tablecloths and featuring a central white roses vase.

I stand next to one of the buffet tables surrounded with my group of friends, sipping on champagne and not really being present in the moment. All I can think about is my father's threat - we're announcing your engagement tomorrow... 

"Your plate looks like you haven't eaten in days," my friend Louis notes to our friend Connor whose plate is stacked with triple the size of a normal serving.

"Close enough," Connor stuffs his small mouth with cocktail shrimps and quiche Lorraines.  "Me and my boy Chris here, partied hard last night," he barely manages to speak while chewing. "Still recovering from the hangover."

"Yeahhh," Louis taps my shoulder proudly. "Enjoying your last single days, bro, are you?"

I'm instantly teleported to the here and now. "What's this nonsense everyone keeps talking about?"

Louis looks insulted. "I was just about to ask you! I heard about it today from a random woman. Gotta admit I felt a little bitter it didn't come from you first," he shrugs. "But I figured you guys came to the arrangement fairly recently anyway, given that I haven't seen you canoodling with your chosen lady," he chuckles.

"One lucky bastard is what he is," Connor declares watching Lady Sophia sway her hips to one of the chairs at the table closest to us. "Look at that body..."

"Hey!" Louis interrupts, "That ain't cool, bro, that's your future Queen you're talking about. And your best friend's future wife, on top of that..."

I don't laugh. "I don't know what you all see in her..."

The two look at me in shock. "Still haven't accepted parting ways with your bachelorhood, huh?"

"I didn't have the time," I bitterly declare. "I've only found out this morning."

Louis opens his eyes in surprise, but decides to leave no comment.

"Well, we'll leave you then to have a little chat with her," Connor grabs Louis and drags him someplace with him.

You know what... I just might.

I stroll confidently toward Sophia's table, piercing her back with my eyes. 

I strategically lay my glass of champagne in front of the the empty seat beside her. "Care if I join you for a moment?" I ask already sitting down.

But she isn't startled like most ladies I approach are. Hell, I barely ever approach any. Ladies have been coming to me all my life.

She chews her small bite til the end and only talks after she has swallowed and wiped her plush red lips with the edge of her white silk napkin. 

She lays her green eyes on me and I swear there's some kind of evil playfulness in them. "Oh, but what's one fleeting moment when we have eternity forever?"

I lose my confident smirk instantly. This woman is trouble. 

Big trouble.

My eyes go a shade darker as I now gaze at her with anger. "That's what you'd like, wouldn't you?"

She only blinks without expression.

We stare at each other for a few silent moments, then she stretches her full lips into a smile. "You don't know the first thing about what I like."

I feel an opportunity here to start a deeper conversation. Enough chit-chat. I'll go straight to the core. "Exactly," I lean forward a little, so that no one can hear us. "None of us know each other. Why would you want to marry me?" I ask casually. "Beside the obvious," I then add with a firm press of my lips.

She contains a chuckle, then licks her lips looking to her plate. 

She presses her dark hair behind her ear and eyes me with a gleam in her light eyes. "The obvious being your impeccable sense of humor or your constant good mood?" she teases.

"I don't feel entertained," I state with a dead pan expression. "I know women like you," I stare her right in the eyes. "And I'd be willing to do some kind of deal with you," I look around, further lowering my voice, "in return for... your cooperation," I raise my eyebrows. 

She calmly blinks looking at me. 

Then she takes a deep breath and for a moment it seems like she has quit the act. "My number's four," she raises her chin gently.

I'm left speechless for only a second. "Four what?"

"Million," she raises her thin eyebrows. "It's the present my dear papa left me with."

If she wasn't this rude and shameless, I'd actually feel sorry for her. "Are you out of your mind?" I almost yell, looking around and give out some casual smile to throw people off. Then I'm back at her. "I do not have that amount of money."

She nods calmly. "I figured," she takes another small bite of baby spinach and caviar, then chews it slowly. "That's why I didn't reach out to you before," she wipes her lips, then leaves the serviette beside her plate in a manner showing she is done eating. "Truth be told, Christopher..." she eyes me up and down in almost a rude manner, "I'm not one of your fan girls," she lifts an eyebrow as her eyes settle on mine again. "I see at least thirty more desirable bachelors in this party as far as I'm concerned, but so it turns out that you father, the King, has only offered to pay my debts off if I am to put a ring on your finger," she lifts a shoulder too casually for my own good taste, then continues. "So that is what I'm going to do. And if you have good survival instincts and know what's good for you," she leans in close to me, "you'd see that I'm the type of a woman one can make very nice deals with."

I tighten my sharp jaw, controlling anger. I do not appreciate being blackmailed or played. "What's your proposal?" I spit through gritted teeth.

She smiles fondly. "I'll teach you how to act well. We'll be Britain's finest, happiest couple. Behind close doors, though... No questions asked. We both continue being single... doing whatever we like... with whomever we please," she finishes with almost a squeaky little lone that suddenly irritates the hell out of me.

I laugh ruggedly with a deep throat tone. Time to take control back. "My wife is certainly not gonna do whatever she wants with whomever she pleases, sweetheart."

She slowly stands up then and I unwillingly follow her suit, because I need to keep playing the gentlemen and show good manners to the big crowd.

Her eyes gleam in excitement as her lips stretch playfully. "Or is she?"

And then she kneels just a little, then walks away.

I swear... if we weren't surrounded by this many people, I'd grab her by the wrist and pull her back.

To do what? I wonder myself.

I exhale deeply, trying to compose. 

This woman will be the death of me.