The Sinful King (Naughty Royals 1)

“Ready?” the cameraman asked. There were three reporters in the room standing behind the cameraman, all with notepads and pens in their hands, their expressions eager and in awe.

“Ready,” Elias confirmed. He looked over at me and winked. I smiled, but wasn’t sure if it was believable, as nervous as I was.

“Let’s roll,” the cameraman said.

The three of us seemed to hold our breaths as he started to speak.

“Good evening,” Elias started, in French. “You may be wondering why I decided to do a broadcast today, with little notice, and I’ll get to that in a minute. As you know, my father wasn’t big on broadcasts, and I’m hoping that’s one of the many things I’m able to change now that I’m king.” He paused for a beat.

“I woke up this morning to a slew of tabloids speculating on my personal life. This isn’t out of the norm. My personal life, as well as my brother’s and sister’s, have been up for judgment and question for as long as I can remember. It doesn’t bother us because we’re used to it. What bothers me is when an innocent is caught in the fire, and in this case, that innocent happens to be a woman I feel deeply for.”

The reporters looked over at me and back at Elias, still seemingly confused as to where this was going.

“I broke off my engagement with Emily, the Princess of Austria, not because she wasn’t the perfect fit for me, but because it wasn’t fair to her, or myself, to have gone through with a marriage I wasn’t fully committed to. You see, I’ve been seeing another woman for quite some time. She doesn’t come from a long line of royal blood or a family of knights. She’s a hard worker, some would say, a commoner, but there’s nothing common about her, as I’m sure there’s nothing common about you.”

There were gasps from the three reporters, who looked over at me, back at Elias, and back at me before they started scribbling things on their notepads. My stomach coiled. Aramis squeezed my arm and Pierre walked to stand on the other side of me, in solidarity.

“She has opened my eyes to things I wouldn’t have otherwise been exposed to. She pushes me to try to be a better person and points out my faults so that I can fix them. It is with her that I will be visiting the houses of those affected by the economic crisis we are currently facing, and it is with her that I hope to fix what is broken in our current system.” He smiled slightly. “And while I will not be giving up my throne or turning in the crown, like some of you may be hoping for, I pray this helps me grow into the kind of king you are proud of.”

He nodded once. “Dieu te bénisse. We’ll talk again soon.”

The cameraman did a countdown before saying, “Cut!” and switching off the camera. He was already walking out of the room with it when the three reporters stepped forward. Pierre left my side then, and walked over to them.

“You may ask your questions now,” he told them, “but remember that the king is entitled to not answer whatever he does not want to answer.”

“May we ask her questions?” the woman asked, pointing at me with the tip of her pen.

“She’s off-limits,” Elias said, looking over at me, “unless she says otherwise.”

I thought about what his mother had told me, how this was an all-or-nothing kind of deal. I’d already called my mother and told her about this so it wouldn’t catch her off guard, and after a lot of screaming and bad words, she seemed to be a little more accepting of it, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up on Elias’s doorstep tomorrow. I took a deep breath. Was I ready for this? Truly?

“I’m not ready yet.” I smiled at the reporters. “I will say this—I’ve been treated unfairly by the media in the past and I hope this is different.”

They wrote that down. The woman spoke up, “Are you happy? Are you truly a commoner?”

“I don’t like the word commoner being used as a way to speak down to someone, but I am a regular citizen.” I smiled, looking at Elias, who was watching me with a serious expression, but I could see the smile in his eyes. “And I am so happy.”

“What is your name?” one of the men asked.

“Adeline Bouchard.”

“Is your father Louis Bouchard?” he followed. “From the king’s cabinet?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Was that how you met?” the other man asked.

“No. This has nothing to do with my father.”

“How does he feel about you being with a man he’s constantly criticizing?”

“I am not my father’s keeper.” I kept the smile on my face. “You’d have to ask him that question.”