Running from Royalty

Chapter 1-2

Theo:

The smoke swept over my face in a suffocating dark wave as I fought to keep moving toward the theater. My eyes stung, but I couldn't look away from the inferno taking place across the main square, flames reaching out through the windows to devour the brightly-colored banners and flags. The wind caught one of the sashes advertising the play, lifting it up into the air even as it burned, whipping around like a giant snake trying to escape.

No.

I struggled to break free of my bodyguard's grip. "Let me through. I order you..."

Josef kept a firm hold on my tuxedo's lapels as he stared at me, his eyes red from the dense smoke. "Listen to me—you'll only be in the way." He paused. "And make yourself a target. We need to take you someplace safe, away from here."

"f**k that. I need to get to Dad, Mom..." I pushed him aside and started forward.

If I could just make it inside...

Something grabbed my right shoulder, taking hold and spinning me around. Josef scowled at me, his face scarlet.

"Sorry."

Before I figured out what he was talking about, the right hook clipped me clean on the jaw, sending me sprawling to the ground.

The world tilted and spun as he stood over me, barking orders.

"Take him to the car. Anyone tries to interfere, put them down—lethal force authorized, if you deem it necessary. We're on a Code Gold." He pointed at the men looking down at me, my protective detail. "I'll take responsibility. Go."

Before I could recover, two of them dragged me to my feet and began to move, their firm grip on my belt and shoulder giving me little chance to respond or fight. My head was spinning, my jaw hurting and the thick smoke tearing at my lungs as we moved down the street.

Fire engines, ambulances, police vehicles pushed through the mob, headed for the burning building behind us. The yelling and screaming rose around me as we ducked into an alley—my feet scraped on the cobblestones as I was half-carried, half-running on my own, the bodyguards creating a wedge as we continued through the mob. The majority of the crowd ignored us, focused on the devastation happening across the square. Those who tried to interfere, either to talk to me or stop our flight, were pushed aside brusquely.

The black sedan was waiting with the engine running, the driver covering us with his pistol. The second bodyguard stood nearby, his own weapon in hand. My two guards pushed me into the car, turning away to clear our escape route.

Josef got in beside me, barking commands at the two men in the front seat. We sped away down the street, dangerously close to clipping a few pedestrians along the way.

After a few seconds he turned to me. "Your Highness," he said. "We're heading back to the palace. After that, we're going to the panic room. You'll be safe there until we assess the situation." He eyed me. "Please don't fight me on this."

"They..." My mouth was full of invisible marbles, my jaw aching. "They were all..."

"We'll be updated on the situation as soon as we can." The older man cut in before I could finish the sentence. "Your propensity for late nights might have saved your life today." He exhaled slowly, a single tear breaking free and rolling down his cheek, nestling in his gray-speckled goatee. "I'm sorry for treating you this way, but we can't risk any more losses."

"But I could—" The possibility punched me in the chest, sending me back against the cushions.

Josef held up a hand. "The palace first. After that..." He swallowed hard as he turned to study the chaos outside the car window.

The chauffeur forced his way through traffic, zipping along back alleys and side roads with the skill of a New York City cab driver. Soon we were on the outskirts of town approaching the castle, the old stone manor the last remnants of my family's legacy—the beautiful ancient building had survived numerous attacks in the past, the target of warring armies rushing back and forth across Europe. Every time I came home the sight took a bit of my breath away, the majestic towers signaling strength and safety—even if at times I thought it was a bit of overkill, the spikes on the perimeter fences nothing more than a symbol of a violent past long gone.

Now all I could think about was if it'd be safe enough.

The police stood at the front gates, grim-faced men with automatic rifles. Crowds were gathering as the word spread, openly weeping.

Nausea rose in my throat as we approached, the gates opening inward and the people giving way. Some pointed at the Royal flag mounted on the car and shocked looks and yells followed us onto the grounds before being shut away behind the barricade.

As soon as the car stopped in the garage, Josef rushed me out and through the corridors into what I had jokingly called the "what-the-f**k room" when it'd been installed a year ago. One of the inner rooms in the palace, it'd been converted from a storeroom into a high-tech bunker. There were still some luxuries—a plush sofa, the bar well-stocked with liquor and the bookcases filled with family favorites if we had to stay in it for a prolonged time. But it was designed for survival above all else, the staff trained and dedicated to keeping the Dubrienne family alive.

Even if there was only one left.

"Sit." Josef commanded, pointing at one of the leather-covered chairs. "I'll pour you a drink."

I remained standing. "What's going on? What's the latest update?"

Ignoring me, he went to the small bar as I looked around, seeing the monitors spring to life with news feeds, the other men in the room at their consoles gathering data. Two armed guards stood at the closed door, keeping an eye on all of us.

Josef returned and handed me a brandy.

"Your Majesty..." He hesitated. "Sit the f**k down, and shut the hell up."

His hand was shaking.

I clasped the thick crystal with both hands, covering his fingers with my own. For a second our eyes met, the shock and pain reflecting back at me.

I sat down in the padded chair, sinking into the red leather.

Josef Tavendish had been with the family for decades, first serving my father when both were young men. Never married, and save for a few short romances within the palace staff, Josef remained alone and totally dedicated to his job.

Over a decade ago, he had been transferred to lead my security detail, my family having faith in his ability to keep me out of trouble.

Some days I barely tolerated him, angry at his insistence that I maintain some form of decorum, pride in my heritage—usually as he hustled me out a hotel's back door, leaving the night's business behind in a private suite.

Now he might be all I had left of the past.

I took a deep swallow of liquor, relishing the burning as it went down my throat. It gave me something to focus on, something other than the horrors shooting across the screens.