Royal Thief (Editing)

Chapter 1

Logan

Summer sunshine glided through the drawn white satin drapes, burning my  eyelid as I tugged the sheet, burying my mind and soul.  My ears hearkened to the echoing of footsteps around my room as each knock of the heels shooed sleep from my eyes.

"What time is it?"

"7:00 am your Highness."

"Why am I up so early?" I asked Aaron, my assistant and advisor for twenty-seven years, which also meant...all my life.

The slog pacing stopped. I peeled the sheet and met hazel eyes and a charming smile that matched his black tailored suit.

"Good morning your highness, Her Royal Majesty the Queen, demands your presence."

Immediately, I sat up and ran my hands down my face, clearing the need to nest my pillow.

Throwing the sheet off my body, I took a lazy stride to the slightly curved mirror that stood beside my wardrobe. "Any idea why?"

"Must be important."

Caressing my chin, I moved to the window that gave a gripping view of the river Thames in its morning glory filled with tiny views of cruise ships.

Mum requested I returned to the castle for the royal ball, but I was certain she had something gruesome and hard core that would break a bone.

"Can you convey her message in her words?" I asked, with a frown playing on my lips.

"Get my son to meet me and his grandmother in the green drawing-room."

I turned sharply. "And this was when exactly?"

"Twenty minutes ago."

"Why didn't you wake me sooner?" I rushed from the window to the bathroom still in my pyjamas.

Mum dreaded lateness. To her, it was an offense that warranted execution by words of course. Therefore, keeping to time was a golden rule and breaking it was eschewed by all.

"I spent nineteen minutes waking you," his deep voice stated from behind the door.

"Gush Aaron, Mother will have both our heads," I said, as water ran down my dark brown hair, springing my body back to life.

"I disagree your Highness, she will be having your head, I'm not in this one with you."

I heard the door to my room open and shut gently, this led to a thin smile, not of disappointment but understanding. No one, not even grandma wanted to be on mum's bad side and only one had dared and survived.

Only Laura.

***

I walked into the Rococo-style green drawing-room, which aside from its green curtains and its wooden chair was also filled with carved wooden panels, illustrating weapons and wars all seen by the ancient castle I called home.

Each panel and illustration gave a masonic meaning to the room where mum sat fully engrossed in a book with her long brown hair resting on her shoulders, and her legs crossed. She was like a beautiful statue.

"Very late," she said, with eyes fixed on the book as she turned the brown pages.

I placed a kiss on her forehead. "Goodmorning Mum, I am sorry I'm late."

"And your grandmother is late also." This time, she lifted her blues eyes that was complemented by long nature lashes. I followed her gaze to the door which allowed the gracious form of grandma into the room in a yellow dress.

Without lingering, I left mum's side to grandma's.

"You were late?" She whispered the moment I placed kisses on her soft cheeks that was smooth as a child's buttock and without ladies powder.