Page 6 of A Royal Mistake
“Excuse me?” The king’s face remained impassive, but the tip of his nose turned red, and Pippa knew she was in for it. “Did you just say the Prince of Liechtenstein went swimming in one of the palace fountains today?”
She shifted in her seat. “Perhaps ‘fell in’ would be a better way to describe it.”
Her Majesty gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth, which seemed a bit dramatic. After all, it wasn’t like she’d attempted to drown the prince in the fountain.
The room fell silent again, except for Xander, who guffawed with laughter.
Bloody traitor.
“You will apologize immediately,” her mother demanded. “What were you thinking?”
Like hell she’d apologize. She’d rather wear pantyhose every day for the rest of her life.
“What was I thinking?” Pippa parroted back as molten lava raced up her spine, incinerating rational thought. “You’re the one who invited all these bloody toffs to Valeria.”
“And with good reason.” Her mother sniffed and lifted her chin. “The sooner you marry, the better your chances of making a favorable match.”
Pippa rolled her eyes. “It isn’t eighteen thirty-five, Mother. Things have changed.”
“Be that as it may,” the queen responded archly, “the same rules do not apply to the royal family. You are expected to be the picture of decorum. And in case you haven’t noticed, the press is having a right good time destroying the reputation you’ve worked so hard to build for yourself.”
More like the reputation Their Majesties had crafted for her through years of coaching and manipulation.
“Honestly, Pippa.” The queen heaved a beleaguered sigh. “First the hair and nail polish,” she said, gesturing to Pippa’s newly lightened tresses. “What’s next? A nose ring?”
Why not? It would go brilliantly with theSmash the Patriarchytee she’d been eyeing.
“Perhaps instead of worrying about my marriageability, you should correct Valeria’s archaic laws.” She shifted her attention to her father. “I have no interest in getting married. Not to Prince Dominik, not to anyone. I am twenty-three years old. I want to see the world, to figure out my place in it. And I want to work at the Royal Foundation, where I can make a difference.”
“The law says—”
“I don’t care what the law says,” Pippa argued, voice rising as she cut her mother off. She was sick and tired of being treated like some delicate flower in need of constant protection and unable to think or do for herself.
During her gap year, she’d traveled with von der Recke International, working in some of the poorest countries in the world to build clean water and sanitation systems. It had been difficult, humbling work, and the experience had opened her eyes to the extreme privilege of royal life. She wanted—no, needed—to pay it forward. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but also to prove to herself that she could stand on her own two feet. She was ashamed of the clueless, naïve girl she’d been, content to quietly do as she was told and accept the world at face value. It was time for her to take control of her life. If she didn’t do it now, she never would.
“The law is wrong,” she said. “If you won’t help me change it, then I’ll find another way.”
Her father made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat. “Quit being so dramatic and let’s discuss this like rational adults.”
Pippa’s blood pressure shot through the roof, taking her good sense with it.
Dramatic? If he wanted dramatic, she’d give him dramatic.
“There’s nothing further to discuss.” Pippa lifted her chin with a confidence she didn’t feel. “If the law says I can’t work with the Royal Foundation, then I’ll start my own charitable organization, using my trust.”
“Here we go again,” the queen said, each word heavy with exasperation. “This will be just like the time you wanted the palace to go vegan. How long will this phase last, do you think?”
Pippa’s cheeks heated at the reminder of her short stint as a vegan. She’d been fifteen and idealistic, but she’d quickly realized giving up leather goods and cosmetics was even harder than giving up meat. Still, she’d become a more socially conscious consumer, selecting cruelty free products, so it wasn’t a total bust. Even if her family liked to tease her about it every chance they got. “It’s not a phase. It’s my life, and I want to make a difference.”
The king studied her for a long moment. When he finally spoke, there was a cunning gleam in his eye. No surprise there. Her father was known for being a shrewd and calculating negotiator. It was a trait he’d passed on to Liam.
“You are forgetting one very important fact, Pippa.” She froze, panic taking root. She’d been over this a hundred times in her head. What could she have possibly missed? “Your trust remains under our control until you turn twenty-five.”
Dammit. How could she have overlooked such a crucial detail? Sure, she could make modest withdrawals for living expenses, but all substantial expenditures had to be approved by the trustees, and, judging by Their Majesties disapproving stares, there would be no money coming.
Pippa’s confidence wavered. Maybe they were right. Maybe it was a ridiculous idea. If she couldn’t even remember the basic principles of her trust fund, how could she hope to manage a multi-national foundation?
No. That was the old Pippa talking. So she’d screwed up. That didn’t mean she was going to quit. She’d figure it out, and she’d do whatever it took to bring her vision to life.