Royal Ruse - Emma Lea Page 0,2

to the principal’s office, although I had no idea what I could have done wrong.

I slid my finger under the seal and cracked it for the second time. The envelope was made from a heavy card stock and so was the folded, handwritten letter inside.

I skimmed the letter, just to check I wasn’t being sued or scolded or…I didn’t know what else. I just needed to know I wasn’t in trouble for something. But when I got to the end, I had to go back to the top and start reading again because I couldn’t actually believe what I’d just read.

“I don’t understand,” I said, looking up at my mother after reading the letter a second time.

My mother vibrated in her chair, barely able to keep still. This was exactly the type of thing she craved. She took her place in society very seriously and for the king to reach out and request my presence as part of his court was just the thing she needed to climb another rung on society’s ladder.

“The king needs you,” she said, clapping her hands.

I didn’t know about that, but the request intrigued me. King Christophe was asking me to travel to Kalopsia and consider taking up a position in his royal court.

“Why me?” I asked. “Why not you and Father?”

Mother shrugged. “I suppose he wants to start fresh, surround himself with people his own age.”

I could tell she was a little miffed that she and Father were not being asked to return, but having a son in the royal court was the next best thing. Besides, why would she want to give up the luxury she lived in to go back to an island that had suffered under the regime of a greedy and fiscally irresponsible usurper? Kalopsia was not the jewel it used to be, and my parents liked the finer things in life. Not to mention, my parents had fled, abandoning the former-king to his fate. It was a surprise the new king wanted anything to do with any of us.

“Of course you’ll go, and you will take Clarissa with you.”

“What?”

“You can’t go to Kalopsia without a wife,” Mother said. “And you are planning to ask Clarissa to marry you, aren’t you?”

I didn’t know how my mother knew I was planning to propose to my long-term girlfriend, but I’d given up trying to figure out how my mother knew any of the things she did.

“So, you ask Clarissa to marry you and then tell her she will be a markissia.”

Markissia, the Kalopsian title for marchioness, which would make me a marquess, or markissios.

Oh god. I couldn’t breathe. I tugged at my tie and my collar. Meanwhile, my mother continued to prattle on about god-knew what. I was about to pass out and all my mother cared about was ensuring I had enough tailored suits to take with me because, in her words, ‘there is no way Kalopsia had any decent tailors left.’

I wiped my hands on my pants and took a breath before knocking on my sister’s office door.

“Come,” she said from inside.

I’d already gotten past her gatekeeper and been announced via the intercom, but no one, and I did mean no one, entered Euphemia Andino’s domain without knocking first.

I straightened my glasses and opened the door, closing it behind me and crossing the office quickly.

“Do you have those numbers for me?” she asked without looking up from her computer screen.

“I emailed them to you five minutes ago,” I replied, not taking a seat until she bid me to.

“There must be a lag,” Effie said, clicking around her screen and looking for the reports I’d sent her.

I waited silently, my hands behind my back. I tried not to fidget or shuffle my feet, Effie hated that. She said it was a sign of weakness, and Effie hated weakness of any kind. Instead, I stared out the wall of windows behind Effie that showcased downtown Boston in all its glory. The office took up the entire top floor of the brand new One Congress building at Bulfinch Crossing. Effie lived in one of the penthouses in an adjacent building in the same precinct and had offered me one as well, but I found living at home easier. The family estate in Newton was large enough that I had my own wing but still had the convenience of a cook and cleaner and all the amenities paid for. Not that I was lacking finances, I just preferred not to spend them when I