Royally Screwed Part 1

Royally Screwed.

By Valerie Seimas.

Chapter 1.

"You know the rules. You must be married by the time you're thirty. No exceptions."

"What about cousin Nicolai? He didn't get married until he was almost thirty-two," Sebastian countered lazily, dropping down into a chair across the room. He saw the way Sergei flinched at his pose, leg thrown over the arm, boot just barely out of reach of the gold leaf table, and a smug glint entered his eyes.

"Nicolai was in a coma for three years of his life. He didn't wake up until he was thirty-one," the butler said. "And yet, still, he managed to walk down the aisle before the year was out."

"I hate that story," Sebastian spat, disdain dripping from his tongue. "The girl. She 'waited for him' like he was a sign from above. To be so in love and reliant on someone else is sickening and I refuse to succ.u.mb. Which is why I refuse to get married."

"You know what your father will do," Sergei said in a low, matter-of-fact tone as he brushed by Sebastian and smacked his wayward leg with a flick of his wrist.

"I know what my father says he will do. What will actually be done is a mystery."

"You should not test him," Sergei warned, stopping his tidying of the tea service to bore holes in the back of Sebastian's head. "He's not a man you want to cross."

"He's only a man, Sergei. People seem to always forget that," Sebastian murmured, his voice trailing off to only a whisper. What would his father do? There was nothing he could do, really. He couldn't force him to walk down the aisle. He couldn't blackmail him into doing it; he didn't care about anything enough to be swayed. According to his father he didn't have any morals to appeal to. He couldn't be reasoned into it. Who'd believe he could be swayed by reason anyway.

"He's the most powerful person in the country. You always seem to forget that," Sergei countered.

"No," Sebastian said with a smile, "that is my mother."

Sergei couldn't hide a smile either. "I acquiesce. But even she won't be able to save you. Just find a nice girl, Prince Sebastian. Settle down and try to behave for a year or so and see how you feel then."

"I don't do things because I'm told to Sergei. You should know that by now."

Sergei sighed, but looked at his charge fondly. "I know that, sir. I just always hope that you will have changed your mind."

"Rebellion is my middle name. And don't call me sir."

"Your middle name is Gustav. Sir."

"You can't go to work like that!" she snapped at her brother, stamping her foot in agitation and giving him a look so reminiscent of their mother that the boy hesitated.

"Fine," he sniffled, "you don't think I should go to work. I get that. But if I don't go, I don't have a job. You can agree that I need a job, can't you Kitten?"

Kat narrowed her eyes at him and the nickname. "What trick are you trying to pull over on me? What's your goal?"

He threw up his slightly sweaty hands in agitation. "Yes, my grand plan. To trick you with typhoid fever. To pull one over with pneumonia."

She glared at him, his little sister, and he tried very hard not to laugh. "Listen girly, someone has to go to work. You said you'd never fill in for me again and you've already worked two jobs today, including the one I'm trying to leave for, so I have to go. Please just move."

"It's that Donahue I know he's back. And so handsy, I think he's part octopus."

"I know," her brother sighed, "that's why I don't want you going either. But unless he started playing for the other team, I'm free and clear so step aside and let me go." He was bordering on whining himself, half a breath away from stomping his own foot in annoyance like the horse he'd been named after.

"Blaze just get back into bed, d.a.m.n it. I'll go." He opened his mouth to protest but she headed him off at the pa.s.s. "Do it before I change my mind. You go in like that you really will lose your job. And I don't want to live off ramen noodles again; I'm not twenty anymore. But you know this was not part of my plan tonight and you owe me. Big."

"Fine, but go ugly it up, okay? They didn't want any women on pa.s.s trays tonight."

"I'll go shake my head in a sewer drain on the way over," she promised with sarcasm, halfway out of the apartment. Pa.s.s trays, just what she needed.

"That'll do," he yelled after her in a good-natured tone.

"Go back to bed and get some rest. Oh, and just so you know, if I find out you went out or anyone came over while I was gone, I'll make it very certain you won't be able to play for any team." Blaze's eyes filled with amus.e.m.e.nt but Kat just shot him a serious look down the end of her nose and closed the door behind her.

There was a knock at the door but Sebastian ignored it. He wasn't expected to answer it anyway; he didn't even live under the pretext of privacy. After half a second Sergei entered. "It's time."

"Sergei," he grunted, rising smoothly to his feet. "How many more times in my life must I go to these types of parties?"

"As many times as you must ask me not to call you sir. Sir."

A wolfish grin appeared on Sebastian's face. "Ah, so not much longer then. I'll have you trained soon enough old man."

"Old man," he murmured as he grabbed Sebastian's suit jacket and helped him into it. Sebastian could only smile.

"That's it? I'm not going to get a declaration that you're not old or a story on how my antics have aged you. You are going soft."

"I am going no such thing," Sergei a.s.serted. "I am simply concerned with other more pressing matters. I have been put on notice, you know. Less than three months until your birthday. It's time to focus." After a beat he couldn't help but add, "And one decade older than you does not an old man make."

"That's what you told me a decade ago when Father replaced my last detail with you. Thirty seemed so old then."

"And now?"

"Young enough," Sebastian replied, "young enough. Of course now you're forty. What is it that Americans say? Over the hill?"

"I think I'm to reply 'better over than under it'? Such crazy sayings."

"You know, you are the one that should be settling down, not me."

"Ah, but I am always chasing after you. When do I have time to settle?" Sergei asked as they rode the cramped elevator, guards in front and behind them.

"Does that mean you want me to get married too, Sergei?" Sebastian scoffed as he asked. "You are dreaming, my countryman. I am not the marrying kind."

"Like James Dean, I know," the a.s.sistant replied in a mocking tone.. They'd had this conversation before and they would have this conversation again, as long as they rode elevators to parties Sebastian would rather not attend.

But Sebastian gave Sergei a devilish smile making Sergei think what a shame that it was wasted on them and not a gaggle of royally-approved women and he shook his finger good-naturedly at his friend. "Be careful what you wish for, Sergei. I'll go off and marry a bra.s.sy American and then where would we be? The King would have a heart attack considering his disapproval of the last royal wedding we had. Hmm, maybe I should."

"Marrying Grace Kelly did wonders for Monaco," Sergei said. It was then that the elevator doors opened, presenting a truly entertaining picture of the dapper prince to the awaiting crowd, as Sebastian laughed.

"What are you doing here?" Giovanni asked, looking both mutinous and crestfallen all at once. "There aren't supposed to be any women here tonight!"

"Blaze is sick," Kat answered without even looking at him as she removed her jacket. When she met his narrowed eyes she added, "What, do you really think I want to be pulling a double after decorating this place all day? You want me to leave? There's nothing I can do about missing a Y chromosome, Gio. Do you want my help or not?"

"Fine," he grumbled, consulting his clipboard and pulling her into a storage room. "Cooper's sick at home anyway and Luke just called to say he's been 'discovered' again and quit. We're down as it is." He looked her up and down and grimaced. "There's a different uniform required tonight . . . you just might fit into Coop's though."

"I hope you're not calling me fat. That junkie's too thin. Let him eat some of the food next time and get some meat on his bones."

"Are you going to be argumentative all night because if so maybe I will send you away."

"Sorry, sorry," Kat said, holding her hands up in surrender, "I just really didn't want to have to work tonight." She thought wistfully of the bed, book, and bath she'd hoped to sink into. "Uniform you said. Who are we playing dress-up for tonight?"

"The royal Sezynian emba.s.sy is hosting a party for their prince."

No wonder they'd been so a.n.a.l about the set-up. "Ooh, the prince. Color me impressed."

Giovanni glared at her. "Evidently the guy's a notorious ladies' man which is why they especially requested a non-female serving party. So do your best to avoid him, okay?"

"How am I supposed to know which one is him?" Kat took the uniform from Giovanni and tried not to show her disdain.

"Look for the man with an air of royal ent.i.tlement and a bevy of blonde bombsh.e.l.ls in his wake Kat, do you have to do that here?" He turned and saw her stripping down to change.

"I'm running late and Donohue is probably loitering near the changing rooms smoking so yeah, I have to do this here." She shot him an amused look over her shoulder. "I don't know what you're so bent out of shape about anyway. I know I don't do it for you it's been, what, almost six months since I caught you with my brother."

"Hey," Giovanni shushed, shuffling closer to her, "you know I don't want you talking about that here. What if Trey hears you?"

"It's like Desperate Housewives in here, I swear," she murmured as she pulled up the navy slacks and tucked in the puffy white shirt. The wide neck slipped to the side and her slender shoulder slipped into view. She kept readjusting it but it didn't help much.

"d.a.m.n you look good girl," he complimented. "This is never going to work; you look too d.a.m.n s.e.xy for your own good. Maybe the hat will help . . ." Giovanni threw open the door and rushed down the hall, Kat right behind him.

"Yes, here. It's made everyone else look infinitely worse so let's see if it does the trick." She gathered her long chocolate tresses into a messy bun on the top of her head, her fingers brushing the ever-present scar hidden at the base of skull. Giovanni placed the hat over it, just barely fitting. She glanced at herself in the mirror, tucking mutinous strands away, and had to grimace at her reflection.

"Yep, does the trick," Giovanni said.

"What flattery," Kat said with dry sarcasm as she turned to view her face in profile. "Think it'll keep Donahue away?" If so she'd wear the navy blue tri-cornered hat every day.

"Sorry sister, not even an act of G.o.d would get that man to keep his hands to himself where you're concerned. Just try not to be caught alone with him tonight either, okay?"

Kat couldn't help turning to glare at him, hand on hip. "Gee, thanks for the novel advice. I should stop throwing myself at him and putting my a.s.s so close to his hands too, right?"

"Ouch, I think your sarcasm just bit me."

"It's hungry. I haven't fed it lately."

"Something's missing," he mused, looking at her critically. A line of servers rushed by and his eyes lit up. "Oh yes, I forgot. The vest. Can't you tamp them puppies down?" he said, gesturing at what were clearly her b.r.e.a.s.t.s under the white silk shirt.

"Not unless you have twenty minutes and a sports bra to spare."

"Sports bra I have, time I don't. What?" he asked at the shocked and amused look Kat threw him. "You don't know me, woman."

She smiled, for the first time since walking in the door, and leaned over to kiss him quickly on the cheek. Giovanni instantly regretted it smiling like that, there was no chance in h.e.l.l she'd ever pa.s.s for a man.

Chapter 2.

Sebastian had already forgotten the name of the woman he was talking to. He blamed it on the fact that he was starving. He kept glancing around for some hors d'oeuvres but the trays just kept pa.s.sing him by. He wondered if it was because no one had much of a chance to get close to him through the crowd of fawning foreign dignitaries, even if they were carrying crab cakes or bacon wrapped shrimp.

"Are we enjoying ourselves?" Sergei asked, appearing out of nowhere as Sebastian politely excused himself from his audience and turned to leave.

"No, we're famished. Can I slip into the kitchen and grab some food?"

"No."

Sebastian looked amused. "You won't let me in the kitchen because you're afraid there's a woman in there, aren't you? Don't think I don't know what game you're playing. Parties by the emba.s.sy without an 'unacceptable female' in sight."

"Interesting that this is something you'd notice."

"They're all wearing tamerics," Sebastian protested, gesturing towards a server nearby wearing a bulky, quilted vest in bright red and orange, the costume of the traditional Sezynian peasant with a pattern reminiscent of scales and spikes. After a moment, as he tried to grab something from a pa.s.sing tray that was just out of his grasp, he added, "At least when there are women I can flirt my way to a canape. Don't think your plan will work Sergei throwing eligible women at me does not mean I'll catch them. And never means I'll keep them." He plucked a goat cheese tartlet from Sergei's hand and popped in into his own mouth before he could protest.

"At your service, sir," Sergei said in a mocking voice with a little bow. Sebastian just laughed.

"Why do I never believe that?"

Sergei just shrugged and motioned over a waiter.

A server and tray started to whiz by Kat; she usurped it seamlessly from his grasp without hesitation. She was not going to start this job by walking into the kitchen no way in h.e.l.l.

"Hey! Wha Kat!" His face went from anger to surprise to dawning understanding in seconds. "Okay, got it love," he murmured, patting her on the shoulder and doing an abrupt about face back to the kitchen.

They knew she avoided serving at events, especially with Donahue back as sous chef, like the plague. And avoided the kitchen if at all possible when she couldn't help it. But no one asked why she was there or where Blaze was. They all knew better than to question her even though this time it was only the flu they didn't want to know if it was something different. They liked to camp in denial; she wished she had that luxury.

"Go," Giovanni ordered when he came around the corner and saw her there. He pushed her out of the double doors and into the hall when she didn't move.

She was blinded for a moment by the decor, which was surprising since none of it was a surprise. Red and gold fabric meant to resemble flames billowed in the corners of the room. The lights had been dimmed, making it intimate and shadowed all at once, even with the incandescent chandeliers. The ethereal effect was exactly what she'd been going for earlier and she felt a sense of pride. Kat smiled for just a second before sliding back to a neutral mask. Not sticking out should be easy.

"This is cold," Sebastian said with a petulant snort as he placed his half-eaten canape back on the tray with a splat.

"It's supposed to be cold, it's reindeer tartare."

"That had better be a joke."