Running from Royalty

Chapter 2-2

Theo:

Josef kept adding ice water to my glass as I sat through the briefings, the discussions, the revelations.

First of which being that Josef's guess was right—I had become King. All of the Dubriennes had died in the explosion, save one distant third cousin who was in England sucking his thumb and filling his diapers. The invisible gears began to turn, the old books cracked open and the ceremonies studied in preparation for me to ascend to the throne. No matter what, the monarchy had to continue.

I sipped my drink, the numbness spreading through my body as the organized chaos swirled around me. It was tempting to ask for more brandy, wallow in the alcohol-induced haze, but I couldn't afford to lose focus—no matter how much I wanted to crawl inside the decanter and hope this was all a dream.

Josef never left my side as advisers raced in and out of the panic room, updates piling up on the desks as the authorities dealt with the disaster.

Finally, there was a lapse, a solemn silence falling on the room. It was as if we all inhaled at once, sharing the same fortifying breath.

I took another sip—mostly ice water now, with a slight scent of brandy, and cleared my throat. "Right. Now that we've got some confirmed data..." I steadied myself. "How many dead?"

"At this point we have ninety-five casualties. Including your mother, father and two older brothers," Josef said. "A hundred and thirty-seven injured, many of them seriously. They've started recovery operations—it took some time to clear the site and make sure there wasn't another explosive waiting to go off and hurt the first responders. The experts are going through the debris, trying to figure out if it was a terrorist attack. No one's tried to claim responsibility for it yet, but they might be waiting for the right time to issue a press release." He paused. "Our government liaison tells us the Prime Minister considered declaring martial law, but decided against it after getting a briefing from the Defense Minister. They thought it might cause a panic. Still, extra guards are being posted at all sensitive sites."

"Give them any assistance we can to make sure everyone stays safe through this crisis. I don't want anyone else getting hurt." I looked at my glass, surprised to find it empty. "We have to... I want all of the funerals paid for, all of the medical expenses for the survivors. I don't care how much it costs—these people have suffered enough. Tell the Prime Minister we'd like pensions for those families who lost their sole provider, if Parliament approves."

"As you wish." Josef nodded.

My cell phone rang. I checked the caller ID and winced.

Not now.

Josef leaned in, his forehead furrowing as he read the name under the number. "Briana?"

"From the nightclub. You know, the video star?"

"No." He took the cell from my hand. "If you don't mind."

He strode away, rapidly speaking into the phone. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, grateful for the save.

Briana was pleasant, but right now I didn't need to hear her high-pitched voice yammering on, even in sympathy.

Josef returned, slipping my phone into his jacket pocket. "I think I'll hold onto this for the time being, with your permission."

"What did she say?"

He scrunched up his nose. "Something along the lines of 'offering up prayers" and what I believe to be an offer to come and comfort you in your time of need. Physically and emotionally."

I couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Really? She said that?"

"Not explicitly," he confessed. "But I'm not so old that I didn't pick up what she was offering."

"Shit." I closed my eyes, so tight it began to hurt. "I don't want to deal with this right now."

"I'll take care of it. And any other personal phone calls—you don't need to be worrying about someone looking to make the social media rounds at your expense. Say the wrong thing, give the wrong impression... it'll make the news before you know it and we'll be chasing down flash fires everywhere."

He knelt down by my chair, lowering his voice. "If I can offer some advice... be careful. You're about to ascend the throne. Before today, you had to be cautious about those around you—multiply that ten-fold now." Josef put one hand to his chest, over his heart. "I hope you'll put me among those you trust."

I pressed my hand over his. "You've stood by my father for decades and stood with me for years, through good and bad. I have complete faith and trust in you." My gaze swept the room, the organized chaos swirling around us. "Right now, you might be the only one."

Josef smiled and rose. "I'll see what I can do about that. If you'll excuse me, I need to start making preparations for the funeral guests."

"Guests?" I croaked.

"Don't worry." Pain flashed across his gaze, his features taking on those of a man much older than either of us. "A simple case of extending invitations and preparing to receive those who will make the trip in person, like the Hofstetters—they're not going to stay at a hotel. The protocol's been in place for many years. You don't have to worry about any of it." His voice shifted, became more demanding—the Josef I knew from my childhood. "That's why you have people like me around." He plucked the glass from my hand in a smooth, natural move and gestured at an aide. "Coffee. Black. Brew a fresh pot."

I closed my eyes again, forcing the headache into a box at the back of my mind. I had never played politics and it seemed I was about to dive into an ocean, wearing heavy iron chains around my neck.