Royal Pain Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

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  241 First Avenue North

  Minneapolis, MN 55401 USA

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  Cover and interior images: Igor Klimov/Shutterstock.com (background texture); GoMixer/Shutterstock.com (coat of arms and lion); KazanovskyAndrey/iStock/Getty Images Plus (gold); mona redshinestudio/Shutterstock.com (crown).

  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.5. Typeface provided by Adobe Systems.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Drake, Raelyn, author.

  Title: Royal pain / Raelyn Drake.

  Description: Minneapolis : Darby Creek, [2019] | Series: Suddenly royal | Summary: Seventeen-year-old Noah Fuller suddenly learns that he is heir to a dukedom in Evonia, but he must decide if he wants to follow in the family business or live his life as an ordinary citizen.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017048099 (print) | LCCN 2018007685 (ebook) | ISBN 9781541525979 (eb pdf) | ISBN 9781541525672 (lb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781541526402 (pb : alk. paper)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Identity—Fiction. | Nobility—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.D74 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.D74 Ro 2019 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017048099

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1-44551-35482-2/15/2018

  9781541531390 mobi

  9781541531406 ePub

  9781541531413 ePub

  To Elizabeth Catherine, Molly Beth, and Victoria Lynne

  1

  “We have to tell him.”

  Noah Fuller froze in the hallway when he heard his mom’s hushed voice.

  “We shouldn’t, Cass—the timing just isn’t right,” Noah heard his dad say.

  His parents were in the study with the door closed, speaking in low voices. Noah crept closer to listen as his mind raced through the possibilities of what his parents could be discussing.

  “Antoine, this is going to change everything for him,” his mom replied. “The sooner he knows, the better.”

  Noah felt his palms grow sweaty. Oh no, he thought, are we moving?

  “Can’t we wait until he’s done with junior year? He’s only got one more week before summer vacation. He has tests to study for.”

  Noah spared a guilty thought for the backpack full of homework and test-prep materials he left by the front door.

  “We can’t wait any longer. The funeral is next week.”

  Noah’s breath snagged in his throat. He wrenched the study door open, not caring if his parents knew he had been eavesdropping. “What funeral?”

  His parents jumped at his sudden entrance. His dad’s mouth hung open a moment. His mom cleared her throat.

  “Hi, honey, how was your—”

  “Mom—”

  “Your father and I were just talking—”

  “Mom!” Noah repeated, louder. “Can you and Dad please just tell me what’s going on?”

  “Um . . .” His mom’s voice faltered before she continued. “Grandfather Claude has passed away.”

  Noah’s throat felt tight. He sank into the desk chair, half sad and half guilty he didn’t feel any sadder about the death of his grandfather.

  He hadn’t been that close to his mom’s side of the family. They lived in the tiny European country of Evonia, so he had never met them in person. His grandparents called twice a year: on his birthday and during the holidays. His Grandmother Octavia was nice enough but overly formal. Their conversations usually didn’t make it past standard small-talk questions about school. But his Grandfather Claude had been warmer, more interested in what was going on in Noah’s life beyond grades and college plans. He had been the one who first encouraged Noah’s interest in archaeology.

  And now he’s gone. “I’m so sorry, Mom. Are you going to be okay?”

  His mom managed a weak smile. “I’ll survive.” She exchanged a look with her husband, who sighed and gave a defeated shrug.

  “Go ahead and tell him, Cass. You’re right. He needs to know.”

  “There’s more?” Noah asked, frowning. He couldn’t imagine what sort of news could possibly be as important as his grandfather’s death. “Hold on, are we flying out for the funeral?”

  “That’s part of what we need to tell you,” his dad said.

  “You always knew your grandpa as Grandfather Claude, but that’s not all he was,” his mom explained. “His full name was Lord Claude Valmont, Duke of Rotherham.”

  Is this some sort of elaborate prank? Noah thought. But his parents didn’t really go for the whole practical joke thing. “He was a duke?” Noah shook his head, puzzled. “Like, an actual duke?”

  His mom smiled again. “Yes. In fact, he was a member of the royal family of Evonia.”

  Noah thought back to the maps he had seen of the tiny country squished between France and Germany. He racked his brain for any more information about Evonia. “They have a queen, don’t they?” Noah asked.

  His mom nodded. “Their current ruler, Queen Emilia, is my great-aunt.”

  Noah couldn’t quite process this, so he backtracked to the part he could grasp. “So . . . we’re flying to Evonia for the funeral. How long are we staying? A few days?”

  “Umm. Actually, we’re staying a little longer. It’s a bit complicated,” his mom explained. “You see, I didn’t have any siblings. I was the only child of the Duke of Rotherham.”

  The realization of what his mom was hinting at hit Noah all at once. “So that means—?”

  “Now that my father’s gone, I’ve inherited the royal title. So I am now Lady Cassandra Valmont . . . Duchess of Rotherham.”

  “Of course you are,” Noah said sarcastically. He scrunched his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, his parents were staring at him with worried expressions. “Why wouldn’t you tell me this, like, years ago? How has it not come up once in seventeen years that I’m descended from a royal family?”

  This time it was his dad who interjected. “I told you that your mom and I met while we were studying abroad. I just left out a few details. Like the fact that I met her while I was taking a tour of Rotherham Hall.”

  “I grew up there,” Noah’s mom explained, “and sometimes when I was bored I would lead tourist groups around and make up facts about Evonian history.”

  His dad pretended to be outraged. “You never told me you made those facts up!”

  Noah’s mom chuckled. “I fell in love with the cute American boy. We got married a year later, and we stayed in Evonia for a while. But when you were born we decided that you deserved a normal childhood.”

  “We moved to the States so you could grow up closer to my side of the family,” his dad said, “like Grandpa and Grandma Fuller, and your aunt and cousins.”

  “Yeah, sure, I’ve had a great childhood,” Noah said impatiently, “but I still feel like this was important information that you could’ve shared with me.”

  “We didn’t want you to get caught up in that world,” his mom said. “All the drama and expectations and high-society nonsense.”

  “You don’t sound too excited about being a duchess, Mom,” Noah said.

  His mom grimaced. “It’s just not the life I would have chosen for myself. But
now that the title has passed to me, I don’t really have a choice. My family needs me, and that’s more important to me than my personal preferences.” She smiled. “And besides, Evonia is a wonderful country.”

  “Are we moving to Evonia permanently?” Noah asked. He couldn’t even imagine moving to a new town or state, and now he had to deal with the possibility of moving to a different country.

  “We’re not sure yet,” his mom replied. “Our plan was to fly out for the funeral, and after that, I have some official business regarding the inheritance. So your dad and I will be staying in Evonia for the rest of the summer.”

  “The whole summer?” Noah said. It wasn’t as bad as moving there forever, but he had been looking forward to spending summer break hanging out with his friends. Not being alone in a foreign country.

  “You don’t have to stay the whole summer if you don’t want to,” his dad said. “We’ll buy you a plane ticket home whenever you’ve had enough. But we thought it was only fair that you get a look at the country, since it could be a big part of your future.”

  “What do you mean?” Noah asked.

  “Well,” his mom said, “the title is hereditary. So eventually when I die—which I hope won’t be for a while, of course—the title will pass to you. You’ll become Lord Noah Valmont, Duke of Rotherham.”

  “What if I don’t want to be a duke?” Noah asked. He hadn’t given that much thought to what he wanted to do after high school. But becoming royalty hadn’t been anywhere on his list.

  Noah’s mom sighed. “I wouldn’t blame you. I’m honestly not that thrilled either, but I feel I owe it to my father to keep his legacy going. And besides, my mother would never forgive me if I backed out.” She smirked at Noah. “But I won’t subject you to that kind of pressure and guilt. It’s entirely up to you.”

  “Luckily,” his dad said, “it’s a decision you won’t have to make for a long time. But you should still give Evonia a shot. It is honestly my favorite country in Europe.”

  Noah’s mom added, “Plus, Noah, you’ll be doing a huge favor for your grandmother. She’s always wished she could have been closer to you. And now that she’s a widow, I know she’ll really appreciate having us all around to keep her company in that big old house.”

  Noah sighed. “Fine. I’m sure it will be great to see Grandmother Octavia, but I’m not making any other promises.” He stood up. “I’m going to go take a walk, try to sort through all this.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” his dad said.

  Noah left the room, head buzzing.

  2

  A few days later, Noah was staring out the window of a rental car as the Evonian countryside flashed past. He had explained to his friends that his grandfather had died and he wouldn’t be around town that summer, but he couldn’t bring himself to go further into all of the details. He’d left out the part about discovering that he was descended from royalty, and that his mom had recently become a duchess. Which left him with no one to talk to about this whole weird situation, apart from his parents.

  His mom was driving the rental car with the sunroof open. His dad was in the front passenger seat, reading out loud from the Evonian travel guide he had picked up at the airport.

  “Look over there,” his dad said, pointing at the crumbling remains of a stone building in the farm field they were about to pass. “It says here that it used to be a fortress, built by the ancient Evonians.”

  Noah perked up. “Ancient Evonians? We never learned about them in school.” The ruins of the ancient fortress were covered in moss, but the walls still stood tall in many places, and Noah could easily see the outline of the old building. Back home, the oldest things in the fields tended to be barns with peeling paint, or rusted-out farm equipment. In Evonia, there were structures that were thousands of years old.

  “The ancient Evonians were around at the same time as the ancient Romans in Great Britain,” his mom explained. “I’m always surprised they don’t appear in more history books. They didn’t have a big empire like Rome or Greece or Egypt, but they were quite advanced, both with their culture and their technology.”

  “Wow, are you giving a book report, Mom?” Noah asked jokingly.

  His mom laughed. “I know a lot more about this country’s past than most people because my father taught me. He especially loved everything to do with history and archaeology.”

  “Grandfather Claude and I used to talk about archaeology sometimes,” Noah said. “But he never mentioned anything about the ancient Evonians.”

  “That’s because your mom and I made your grandparents promise they wouldn’t tell you about the whole royalty thing until we thought you were ready,” his dad said. “And a grandfather telling you he was sponsoring royal archaeological surveys may have given something away.”

  “Hey,” Noah’s mom said brightly to him. “Your grandfather had a small, private museum of ancient Evonian artifacts on the grounds of Rotherham Hall. I bet you’ll have a lot of fun exploring that this summer.”

  ***

  The funeral was held at Rotherham Cathedral, an impressively large church a few miles away from Noah’s grandparents’ home. Once they arrived for the ceremony, Noah and his parents joined the line of mourners filing into the church. It was a small, private service for friends and family only, but the church foyer was crowded. Several volunteers were handing out paper programs and candles for the service.

  A girl Noah’s age handed him a long, thin candle. It had a paper cone around the base to catch any dripping wax.

  “During the service,” the girl explained, “Lady Octavia will light her own candle, and then the flame will be passed from person to person until all of the candles are lit.”

  “Thanks,” Noah mumbled, looking at the program. It was printed on heavy, ivory-colored paper and embossed with silver cursive letters.

  “I don’t remember seeing you before,” the girl said.

  “Yeah, I’m kinda new here,” Noah said. The girl was incredibly attractive, he realized, and he immediately felt self-conscious and guilty for thinking it. He had never been much of a ladies’ man, and his grandfather’s funeral certainly wasn’t the time to practice his flirting. “I’m Noah Fuller,” he said.

  “Victoria Fontaine. But you can call me Tori,” the girl said. “How did you know the duke?”

  “Um, he was my grandfather actually.”

  Tori’s eyes widened. “Oh! Wait, so that means your mother is Lady Cassandra Valmont?”

  That caught Noah off guard. What had been news to him a week ago was apparently common knowledge for people in Evonia. “Uh, yeah, I guess she is.”

  He looked to where his parents stood in the line behind him. His mom was caught up in conversation with one of the volunteers, who addressed her as “Your Grace.”

  Noah shook his head and asked Tori, “How did you know my grandfather?”

  Tori gave him a small smile and opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment Noah’s dad started pushing him along toward their seats. “Maybe I’ll see you around?” was all she managed to get out.

  3

  The morning after the funeral, the rental car crunched along the gravel road through the woods that surrounded Rotherham Hall. Noah and his parents had spent the night at a small bed-and-breakfast near the cathedral to give his grandmother some privacy before they came to visit.

  One more turn, and then the road emerged from the trees and cut across the smooth green lawn toward the house. Noah openly gaped. It was a huge stone building with double doors flanked by columns. He began to count the number of windows but almost immediately gave up.

  “This is where you grew up?” Noah asked his mom, completely shocked.

  She grinned. “Home sweet home.”

  “If you think this is impressive,” his dad said, “you should see the Valmont family’s royal palace in the capital city, Alaborn. One time before your mom and I moved to the States, we stayed at the palace for a wedding. When I got up to use th
e bathroom in the middle of the night, I got lost for forty-five minutes.”

  Noah’s mom snorted. “You did not!”

  “Did too!” his dad said as they pulled up in front of the house. “After that I seriously considered leaving a trail of breadcrumbs whenever I ventured off alone.” Noah’s mom laughed.

  Noah rolled his eyes and went to grab his suitcase out of the trunk of the car.

  A man wearing a suit appeared at his side. “Allow me, my lord,” he said, taking Noah’s suitcase. “I will bring this up to your rooms.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Noah said. “Did you just call me ‘my lord’?”

  “Yes, my lord,” the man said. “You’re the son of Lady Cassandra, after all.”

  “Ah, I see,” Noah said, digging into the gravel drive with the toe of his shoe. “It’s just, uh—I feel like that’s going to be hard to get used to.”

  “Your Lordship is from America. Would ‘sir’ be a more comfortable form of address?”

  “I’d prefer if you’d just call me Noah.”

  The man raised an eyebrow. “Between you and me, sir, your grandmother would never allow it. I will tell the others to use ‘sir’ when addressing Your Lordship.”

  And with that, the man whisked Noah’s suitcase off toward the house.

  “You know, Mom,” Noah said as they walked up to the imposing front doors, “I don’t think it’s fair how much you nag me to clean my room when you grew up in a mansion with servants.”

  “Technically they’re live-in staff. But I never said there weren’t perks to being royalty,” his mom said, smirking at him.

  The doors swung open to let them in.

  The entryway in Noah’s house in America was small but cozy, filled with a shoe rack, coat hooks, and a basket for sorting the mail. The entryway at Rotherham Hall was two stories tall, with stained glass windows and a curving grand staircase.

  Another man, whom Noah figured was the butler, approached Noah’s mom. “Lady Octavia Granville is expecting you, Your Grace.”