Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 14
“Just to clarify, I’m still on call for the RAF,” I clarified for her as she laughed, embarrassed, and apologized for her mistake. “But to answer your question, my primary plan is to find a headstrong Queen that will stay beside me and help run our country. I’m three years shy of thirty and I’m ready to have a family of my own,” I answered as she nodded understandably.
“You seem to have been lying low for the last few years and we have noticed you’re taking your Royal duties a lot more seriously with attending overseas meetings in place of His Majesty and doing a phenomenal job at it. Aside from that, how are you working to get people to change their perspective of you and take you seriously in finding a wife?”
I didn’t even know people weren’t taking me seriously. What the f--k kind of question was that? “Well, Taliah… I don’t need the approval of everyone. My wife will come to me no matter what my past was. It’s about who I am now and I’m not the same man four years ago.”
“Well, considering all things, our sources have told us you recently had relations and an altercation with Anais Moretti. Is that true?”
“Pardon,” I tested, thrown for a loop that Ana literally f----d me just before this interview and dared to speak badly on my name. “I can assure you that any rumors that woman is saying about me are all lies. We did nothing,” I continued assuringly. I didn’t give a f--k that I was lying, the world didn’t have to know who my d--k was inside. “Taliah, listen, Love. I’m in search of my wife right now. She’s probably watching this interview as we speak, not knowing that she and I are meant to be, and yet, here you here, blocking our blessings, aye.” I protested, trying to persuade her to change the f-----g topic. “Let’s talk about more important things outside of my love life, shall we,” I suggested, adjusting my tie as my anger was welling up.
I finished the interview, feeling very annoyed that Ana really dragged my name through the mud. As Troy escorted me back to my room, I did a Google search on my name, Vincent Alexander. I groaned as the first article to come up proved that Ana was recently in an interview of her own, speaking on how I slept with her and that I was still sleeping with many women.
‘His Royal Highness has not changed from his early twenties. Not one bit. He sleeps with countless women, threesomes, married women, you name it. The list goes on. I was supposed to be in a threesome with him and another woman but he raised hell on me because he doesn’t kiss women .’
I stopped f-----g reading. She was tarnishing my name so badly I couldn’t comprehend how to tackle the situation. What did I f-----g do to deserve this shit?
“Your Royal Highness,” Troy stopped me, thankfully interrupting my thoughts. This was getting overwhelming.
“I just received word that the Queen Dowager wants you to come down to Buckingham Palace… tonight.”
F-----g perfect! My grandmother was going to scold me. “F--k! F--k, f--k, f--k,” I cursed, pinching the bridge of my nose and walking around in circles. I needed to breathe before I hit something. “Let’s just go straight there. F--k it.”
I was not looking forward to the wrath of my grandmother. I knew her calling me here had to be about the news articles because she definitely was never one to call me just to see me.
“Your Royal Highness, Prince Vincent, the Prince of Wales, has arrived per your request,” a guard announced from the outside of the Queen’s Drawing Room.
“Bring him in,” I could hear her voice croaking from the other side of the door. Just hearing her voice sent a fearful shiver down my spine.
The guard opened the door for me, allowing me to step through the large threshold. My grandmother was sitting with her back facing me, an empty armchair to her right as she watched the fireplace’s flames burn the scented wood. I went around her chair to stand in front of her.
“Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness,” I respectfully greeted her with a bow.
Elizabeth, the Queen Dowager, was my 85-year-old grandmother. Out of every critic that has criticized me over my actions, my grandmother was by far the worst of them all. She was well aware of that and felt that crying for a man was a sign of weakness. She’s never heard me cry, and I never cried in front of her either. What benefited me was that she was blind; however, she could never see the painful expression on the faces of the people she criticized. She could only tell by their voices.
“Is that the Crowned Prince of the Kingdom I helped his father build,” she gloated, turning her head toward where my voice came from.
“This is he, Ma’am,” I confirmed anxiously. I was so nervous. I knew the onslaught was well on its way.
“It can’t be. No Crowned Prince in their right mind would allow his name to be associated with a w---e like Anais Moretti,” and there it began. Her spiteful tone was seeping in as she continued with her grimy insult. “Did you know she dabbled in the adult entertainment industry for some time,” she informed me, and truthfully, I didn’t know. Griffin introduced me to her on the night of my birthday. “Did you at least protect yourself?”
“Your Royal Highness, I did not sleep with that woman. She is spreading false accusations about me,” I lied through my teeth.
“Sounds like the same lie your grandfather told me when I found out he was sleeping with his Private Secretary,” she chuckled cynically as I froze.
“Vincent, I’m going to give you four months…,” she started. My eyes widened. Four months for what? “I’m going to give you four months to find your own wife and if by July 1st, you are still a bachelor, then the King, Queen, and I will find a suitable woman to be the Princess of Wales for you,” she continued in such a pointed way.
“Grand… uh… Your Royal Highness, my apologies. Four months is a bit close; why not six months or a year,” I attempted to bargain. This woman was deranged if she thinks I’ll propose to someone so soon. Four months was not enough for me to fall for someone!
“No, Vincent. Four months. We’ve already given you seven years; from the day you reached the age of marriage and you have yet to find the right one,” she argued.
“And I was engaged to two different women within those seven years!” I was becoming upset. She couldn’t do this to me!
“And both women called the engagement off because of your stupidity and not being capable of keeping your hands to yourself! How can you call yourself the Prince of this Kingdom when you’ve been acting like this country’s gigolo the entire time?” She insulted, yelling at me in infuriation.
I blinked several times as my jaw clenched and unclenched, trying desperately to control my rising temper.
“You had the audacity to go on TV and spew a load of bullshit. Do you truly believe that people would take a prince seriously when he’s sleeping with every woman he comes in visible contact with?” She was taunting me, pushing me closer to my limit. “Keep up your track record and you’ll get AIDS before you earn that crown.”
“That’s enough, grandmother,” I bellowed, using the one term she hated to be called.
“Figures. Let’s not forget you’re the same Prince with anger issues,” she laughed and laughed, and continued to laugh some more. I could no longer be around the hag, otherwise, I would’ve tossed her coffee table out the window for the f--k of it. Just to prove her right about my anger issues.
I left the Drawing Room with my mind in a heated fury as I heard her aging vocals sing out, “Don’t forget… July 1st!”