Playing the Royal Game

CHAPTER FOUR

‘YOUR family behaved appallingly.’

Alex hissed it out of the side of his mouth as they headed back to their suites.

‘Which is exactly what you wanted,’ Allegra said. ‘Which is exactly why you made sure there was a photographer to capture every disastrous moment. Well, I hope you’re pleased.’

‘Oh, I can think of many other words to describe how I’m feeling.’ Alex was, in fact, conflicted—he had, to his guilty shame, hoped for a little scandal, just to prove to his family and the people of Santina how completely mismatched they were. He couldn’t believe how well his parents had taken the news. His mother had burst into tears on his arrival, thrilled that her son had returned home, and his father, though never effusive, had taken him aside and told Alex he was privately relieved that his son was ready to assume more royal duties. He did not admit as such, but reading between the lines Alex wondered as to his father’s health. Not for the first time since Alex had arrived in Santina, realisation was dawning that it was time to return and fulfill the role he was born to. But it would now be without the polished presence of Anna—a woman who understood the role, understood the people of Santina’s ways.

Instead, tomorrow the papers would be filled with the Jacksons’ shenanigans, for they had delivered scandal in spades, and of course it would reflect on him. His family must have thought he had gone insane. Matteo had been appalled; his best friend Hassan had outright asked him if he had completely lost his mind.

‘They weren’t that bad,’ she attempted. Yes, her family had been shocking, but they had also been so happy for her, so genuinely delighted, unlike the royal guests, and Alex’s friends—who had all sneered and frostily responded to the Jacksons’ exuberance.

Guests were still milling around, spilling out from the ballroom and heading, not just for the manicured gardens but, given it was Allegra’s family, no doubt to fill the palace’s cornered-off rooms. Despite defending them Allegra was mortified by her family’s behaviour—from the arrival of the Jacksons on the island, to their loud carry-on at the very formal party, it had exceeded her fears. Now, as the happy couple walked out, as they headed to their separate suites, as the charade neared its conclusion, suddenly Allegra felt like crying. ‘Yours were no better.’

Alex actually stopped midstride and turned around. ‘What on earth is that supposed to mean? My family were gracious.’

‘They did nothing but look down on mine.’ She struggled to keep her emotions contained, a hallway, no matter how lavish, was not the best place for this discussion and there was the photographer from Scandal magazine still milling around. But right now she didn’t care who heard. ‘Matteo hauled Izzy away from the microphone, dragged her away from her own sister’s party. All she wanted to do was sing....’

‘It’s a royal engagement, not a drunken karaoke night! We’ll talk about this later,’ he said, struggling hard not to shout. But really the palace had never seen anything like it! ‘For now, just...’ He looked down to her strained face and decided against asking her to resume the besotted facade as she looked positively close to exploding. He simply didn’t get it—after all, it was her family that had disgraced themselves. From her drunken sister taking the microphone and attempting to sing, to her father’s rambling attempt at a speech. Thank goodness he wasn’t actually marrying into them. ‘Let’s get upstairs....’

She didn’t want to go upstairs, didn’t want to again be banished to her turret, to the room she’d been pacing since she’d arrived in Santina. She’d hardly seen Alex, or Alessandro as she had been told to call him now. This was practically the first time they’d been alone together and knowing her family was about to be so publicly ridiculed, that tomorrow they would be torn apart in the newspapers and magazines, she was way past acting for the cameras.

‘I’ve never met such a frosty, uptight lot.’ Allegra would not be silenced by his stare, would not accept his derisive words, even if they were merited, and it brought the sting of angry, defensive tears to her eyes. ‘At least my father wished us well.’