A Royal Entanglement: The Young Royals Book 2 (43 page)

“Come on,” I said, “We’ve got work to do.”

I marched Louis out of my office and away from the two distracting women that had been waiting for me.
 
How on earth could I have forgotten the appointment I had with Priscilla?
 
I never forgot anything.
 
But then again, I hadn’t had to deal with my younger brother in a long time either.

“What were you thinking Louis?” I growled as I frog-marched him towards the elevator that would take us down to the Majordomo.

“Well, now, I’m not sure.
 
Maybe if you give me a hint as to why you feel it necessary to manhandle me, I might be able to explain myself.”

“A 1984 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti?
 
Really?
 
Do you know how much that is worth?”

“It’s wine, red wine—”

“French red wine worth nearly six thousand American dollars.
 
And you thought you could just help yourself to the Royal cellar?”

“The Queen said—”

“The Queen was being polite.
 
When she told you to make yourself at home, she did not mean pilfering from her wine cellar.
 
Seriously, what has gotten into you?
 
You can not be this much of a lush.
 
What happened to you?”

Louis pulled his arm from my grasp and took a moment to straighten his cuffs before running a hand over his hair to smooth it back into place.
 
This wasn’t the brother that I remembered, something was going on with him and I had no idea what it was.
 
We had been close once upon a time, but living in two different countries tended to erode even the strongest of relationships.

“I was entertaining,” he replied, “I asked the Sommelier for the wine and he served my guest and I.”

“Who was your guest?”

“That’s a private matter—”

“Fine,” I said, cutting him off, really not caring who he had brought into the Palace.
 
That was not my department and I’m sure Benjamin had eyes everywhere, the proof of which was his email this morning alerting me to my dear brother’s expensive tastes.
 
“Look,” I said, trying to remain calm, “You cannot avail yourself to the Queen’s cellars, especially not bottles of wine worth more than you’ve ever made in a real job.”

He scoffed, “Like this is a real job.”

“You don’t think I work hard?
 
You don’t think that this job is demanding?”

“Well it’s not like you’re digging ditches in the midday sun now is it? You live and work in a Palace, not exactly a hardship.”

“And what exactly would you know about hard work?
 
You grew up in an estate that was not exactly a poor house.
 
You’ve had every advantage afforded to you and yet still you flounder.
 
What is it going to take for you to settle down, to start taking life seriously?”

“What, like you?
 
I think you take life seriously enough for the both of us.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, desperately trying to rein in my temper.
 
Louis knew how to push my buttons and he was a master at evasion.
 
Attacking me was just his way of sidetracking me so that I didn’t follow through.
 
Well, it wouldn’t work this time.

“So, do you have the six thousand dollars to replace the bottle of wine you and your
guest
drank?”

Louis rolled his eyes.
 
“As you so helpfully pointed out, I have no money of my own.
 
Papa might be willing to send me some from my trust fund though—”

“No,” I said, not even contemplating getting our father involved.
 
“Dear old Papa is not going to bail you out this time.
 
You are going to work off your debt and since you are so fond of wine and expensive delicacies, you will be assisting the Majordomo and his staff for the week.”

“I’m to be a servant?” he said, horrified.

“Yes and if you don’t complete the tasks assigned to you, I will hand you over to Benjamin and Von Bartham.
 
They have a particular way of dealing with thieves in the Palace.”

“I’m not a thief—”

“Oh no?
 
Then what would you call it?”

“I’m a guest—”

“No, you were sent to me to work, not to
entertain
at the Queen’s expense.”
 
We stopped outside a thick mahogany door.
 
I rapped my knuckles and waited for permission to enter.
 
“Sergé, my brother Louis.”

“Ah, Master Furore.
 
Thank you Lord Chancellor for the use of your brother at this busy time.
 
We are in desperate need of an extra pair of hands.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” I said, smiling tightly.
 
I turned to leave…

“Wait, Dom, come on.
 
You’re not really leaving me here are you?
 
This was just a scare tactic right?”

I turned back to my brother, faintly amused by the look of panic on his face.
 
“I most certainly am leaving you here.
 
I have given you more chances than you deserve and each time you disappoint me.
 
I am not bailing you out this time and maybe you’ll think twice next time.
 
The world is not your playground, Louis, and the time to pay the piper has come.”

“Come on, Dom.
 
You can’t be serious.
 
Can’t I just work off my debt by working for you?”

“Oh you will be working for me,” I said with a smirk, “But that was our original agreement, the entire reason you came to Merveille.
 
This work you’ll be doing for Sergé is to make amends for the bottle of wine, the caviar, the brie and the water crackers that you used to entertain your guest, unless of course you’d like to pay the bill with cash?”

Louis’ shoulders slumped and the grin from Sergé was almost feral.
 
The man was an even bigger ogre than I was rumoured to be.
 
I didn’t mind having a tough reputation, but Sergé actively cultivated his.

I clapped my brother on the shoulder and gave him a wide grin.
 
“Good luck,” I said before walking out of the room, feeling a whole lot better than I had half an hour ago.
 

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Acknowledgements

I don’t think I could do this without the support of my family and friends.
 
It’s very easy to get sucked into my imaginary worlds with my imaginary friends and forget about the real world outside… (sometimes I prefer it, but shhh, don’t tell anyone).

I love reading all sorts of books, all sorts of romance books too.
 
I also write many different types of romance, from the sweet romances (like The Young Royals) to more steamy ones.
 
I love that I can do this, that I can indulge my eclectic interests and that each different time I sit down to write I am constantly challenged to find a different way to tell one of the oldest tales that we know.
 
I love love :) and I’m so happy I get to fill my days with love stories when there is so much hate in the world.

Thanks for reading my attempts at expressing my art.
 
It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it in the end.

About the Author

Emma Lea is a business owner, artist, cook, mother and wife.
 
She lives on the beautiful Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia with her wonderful husband, two beautiful sons, her dog and cat (both of which are female because, hey, we needed to balance all that testosterone!)

She is a ferocious reader with eclectic tastes and has always wanted to write, but
 
never had the opportunity due to one reason or another (excuses, really) until finally taking the bullet between her teeth in 2014 and just making herself do it.

She loves to write stories with heart and a message and believes in strong female characters who do not necessarily have to be aggressive to show their strength.

Connect with Emma Lea via her website (
www.emmaleaauthor.com
), on Facebook (
www.facebook.com/emmaleaauthor
) and on Pinterest (
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).

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