Regal Bloodlines by Preston Walker

Author:Preston Walker [Walker, Preston]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

A familiar sound jolted Oscar out of sleep. He couldn't place it for a moment, but he knew that he had to get out of bed immediately. He rolled out, oriented himself, and raided the Prince's wardrobe for appropriate attire. It didn't occur to him that he was supposed to be dressed as a girl, nor did it occur to him that he was supposed to be dead, because he had finally identified the sound that woke him. His Aunt Gina was wailing his name as though her heart would break.

He raced to the door only to find it locked, with a note pinned to it.

"Stay put," he scoffed. "Not a chance, your highness."

He returned to the wardrobe and felt around the back wall until he found the latch to open the hidden door. He pushed it open carefully, looking left and right. He was alone in the hidden hallway. Gina's voice rang through the palace again, high and wavering with emotion. Urgency ignited his nerves, and he raced to the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time as he raced down to the ground floor of the palace. He pushed open a random door in the lower hallway, and found himself in a sort of game room, complete with billiard table and table tennis. He listened for Gina's voice and followed it through the door and down a long, wide, marble hallway. Her sobs radiated from the same room he'd met Brennan in the day before. Without stopping to think or remember the details of the previous day, Oscar flung the door wide and stepped through.

"Wh–wh–wha…"

Gina trailed off as her eyes rolled back in her sheet-white face and she fainted. Octavia caught her and dragged her to a couch, pushing and pulling until she was lying with some level of decorum on the gold-striped fabric.

"Good job, Oscar," Octavia said, sarcastically. "You ruined her big mourning scene."

"What?" Oscar asked, confused.

He noticed Alfred, who was red-faced and shaking with rage.

"What did I do?" Oscar asked timidly.

"Apparently, you came back from the dead," Octavia said, wryly. "We were just informed by his apoplecticness over there that you'd been executed for general slutdom."

"I was what… oh. Oh, crap."

"Yes! Crap! The whole plan, gone to crap! Didn't you see the note?"

"Well, I…"

"And those clothes! You look like a man, you idiot!"

"Gina was…"

"Putting on a brilliant performance! Didn't know it was a performance, of course, but if anything would seal it, it was her!"

"S–so now…"

"So now the entire palace, and the kingdom by extension, knows that my male bride is alive and well, which means I have to explain Brennan's imprisonment as well as my own deception, and just how do you expect me to do that without blowing the lid off of everything?"

"I… I'm sorry, I…"

"Sorry! He's sorry! Did you hear that, Octavia? Your cousin is sorry."

Alfred turned his back and rubbed his temple, taking several long, deep breaths. Octavia moved across the room silently to embrace Oscar.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you aren't dead," she whispered.

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