Royally Screwed
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Royally Screwed

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Summary

A story in which Victoria Carmichael wakes up married to Crown Prince Alexander. She quickly realizes how 'royally screwed' they are when she is confronted by a pregnancy test on the bedside table. What's more, Victoria is unable to explain how she went to bed fifteen and woke up twenty-three.

Status
7yrs ago
Chapters
4
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
18+

Prologue

“I think you’re overreacting a little bit.”

I rolled my eyes at my best friend, tightening my hold on my book bag. If I wasn’t careful enough, it would be used as a weapon against me.

“I’m telling you Layla, he hates me,” I huffed, “And if the prince of England hates me, then it is about time that I flee the country.”

Layla opened her mouth to protest, but before she could do so, I slapped my hand against her chest. We were approaching my locker, the sight of most of my dealings with Alexander.

I scanned the hallway for the the blonde haired menace and his goons, but luckily they weren’t in sight. Evelyn only crossed her arms at my action with an unamused expression.

“Don’t you think you are being a little bit paranoid?” she questioned as she checked the time. The bell would ring soon and we would be forced to part ways.

“Easy for you to say, he doesn’t pick on you,” I whined.

Layla found my shoulders and turned me so that I was forced to make eye contact with her. No wonder Alexander did not pick on her. She was too beautiful to be bullied with her short black hair falling in loose curls and her smooth, light brown skin. Her Egyptian and Moroccan ancestry did her well.

“Sweetie,” she sighed, “He would stop picking on you if you just ignored him. Instead, you just egg him on.”

“I do not,” I quipped.

Rather than responding, she raised her eyebrows and looked straight at me with those menacingly beautiful brown eyes. I bit my lip in frustration. She was right. She always was.

My best friend gave me a soft smile. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction to his bad behavior. Give him the cold shoulder. Eventually he will move on and look for someone else to pick on.”

I nodded and did not hesitate to pull her in for a hug. Her chest moved up and down as she giggled softly. Her arms wrapped around me, giving me a light squeeze as I took in the scent of her Bath & Body Works perfume.

We separated after a brief moment. “Thanks for the pep talk. I really needed that.”

I made for my locker, my body moving forward with my eyes trained on my best friend behind me. My brows instantly furrowed when Layla’s usually calm demeanor turned high strung. Her arms flailed out in front of her as she quickly reached out for me with a horrified facial expression.

What the hell?

I was in the process of figuring out what she could possibly be freaked out about when my foot caught on something. Being the clumsy human being that I am, I could feel myself losing balance. My head snapped in front of me to prepare my arms for impact, but instead went slamming into an open locker door. The shock of the forceful hit made me forget that I was supposed to protect myself from falling and when I finally tumbled to the ground, I tumbled hard with my right shoulder hitting the tile below.

“Victoria are you okay?” I could hear Layla shriek.

I slowly sat up, the palm of my hand clutching my forehead. Sparks flooded my vision as laughter erupted through the hallways. As soon as I heard it, anger coursed through my veins.

There was only one person responsible for this.

“Alexander,” I seethed through gritted teeth.

The lanky boy with sandy colored hair smirked at me with his outstretched ankle. His pack of worshippers weren’t far behind him, practically kissing the floor he walked on. The poor kid whose locker I smacked into looked terrified by the whole situation.

“Oops,” he winked.

I glared at the Crown Prince. Without his title, he was nothing but a scrawny asshat that didn’t qualify for a second glance from onlookers. Alexander did not fit the “Prince” stereotype: those muscular men with a five o’clock shadow and silky soft hair.

Then again, who was I to judge. Standing at five foot six, I had inherited my dad’s horrible skin and hadn’t quite figured out how to wash the grease out of my dark brown hair. To make matters worse, my teeth had to hide behind metal braces.

At least I was a freshman who looked like an actual freshman. Layla looked like she came straight out of a magazine.

“Victoria...” Layla warned. It was clear that she could see I was about to burst. My hands were clenched in fist and with each laugh that came out of Alexander’s mouth, a vein appeared on my forehead. “Remember what we just talked about.”

I took in a deep breath and nodded. I took her outstretched hand and she hoisted me up to may feet.

Save for a couple of bruises, I had managed to come out of the attack without any broken bones. The pounding at the back of my head would disappear throughout the school day and an Advil or two would clear up the pain. He hadn’t done his worst and I silently muttered a thank you to whoever was listening from above.

The two of us worked to grab all of the contents that had spilled out of my book bag and I practiced ignoring Alexander who was clearly amused with what he was seeing. I could feel his stare burning through the back of my head as I finally threw the last pencil into my bag.

The bell would ring soon and this would all be over. We would both go our separate ways.

Layla motioned towards my locker so I could grab some of my folders. I tried to keep my anger at bay as I started to twist the lock.

“Poor crater face, I was hoping that locker door would smack the ugly right out of you,” Alexander cooed from behind me. I instantly froze, dropping the lock so it made a banging noise against my locker door. “But it looks like only a gift from God can save you from the beast that you are.”

Layla drew in a breath. “Here we go again.”

Without a moments notice, I thrust myself at Alexander, knocking him to the ground.

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