Page 10 of The Omega Princess
We all three began to descend the steps together.
We continued through the palace, going through the middle of the house, up several flights of stairs, and into the west wing, where the Queen did most of her business.
The Queen was my second cousin twice removed or something. I couldn’t quite keep track of all of the family ties between us all. She was eighty-two but quite sprightly. She was actually three generations ahead of me.
So, I wouldn’t take the throne until after the death of the next monarch, who would be Prince Mark. He was of the same generation as the late Princess Emily. He was already in his fifties, and I probably would only be the King for the last few decades of my life.
The Queen was an omega. She’d been officially mated to an alpha from the country of Spesseta, but he’d died decades ago, and since then, the Queen had kept a sort of alpha harem of men, who’d all aged with her. Now, I supposed there was no more of that sort of activity between them, but they were all still together. Alphas and omegas mated for life, after all.
Omegas were rarer than alphas. There were only two amongst all three generations of our family—the Queen and Prince Gabriel, who lived in the country of Nilthin with his mate, currently. Because of their rarity, it wasn’t uncommon for alphas to share them. Back before I’d known that I was a defective alpha, I’d thought that perhaps Rohan and I would both bond an omega together. It was a good strategy from the perspective of royal alliances, since he was third in line for the throne. Whatever omega was with both of us would be secure here regardless of my fate.
But then, I’d met omegas and never knotted for them and I’d begun to doubt I’d ever find an omega at all.
Now, with Eleri, I couldn’t help but feel bile rising in my throat at the thought of any other man ever even looking at her.
Since there was no need to secure anything with another country, perhaps it didn’t matter. I wanted her to be mine, only mine, I thought. But I had to admit I wasn’t sure where that left Rohan and me.
I didn’t want to think about it, so I pushed it aside.
And soon enough, we were being shown into the sitting room where the Queen was waiting for us. She was standing in front of a green velvet couch, where her three tail-waggy Russell Terrier dogs were all panting happily with their tongues out. Scones and finger sandwiches were set out on the coffee table in front of it, along with tea.
We had to reach across the coffee table to take her hand while bowing or curtsying. I whispered instructions to Eleri, realizing she wouldn’t know the procedure.
The Queen looked like a kindly grandmother, her white hair pulled back into a coiffed hairstyle, clad in a skirt and a cardigan. She even smiled in a kindly way. But, well, the Queen was sharp and shrewd. She would want to be on top of this new information immediately.
A commoner omega?
It was unheard of.
“Help yourself to some tea and scones, dearies,” said the Queen.
Eleri started to do that, but I gave her a look and shook my head, and she sat back, folding her hands over her knees.
Why there were always refreshments when meeting with the Queen and why we were never really meant to eat them was one of the great mysteries of the monarchy. I resolved that when I was King, if I intended for people to eat, I would allow them to eat. To be honest, I didn’t even know why we weren’t supposed to eat them, only that—upon my first visit to the Queen—I had been subtly warned off with a shake of the head and a stern look by whoever had accompanied me.
The Queen did not indulge in eating anything either. She perched on the couch in front of us, flanked by her dogs, her back ramrod straight, and she looked Eleri over, up and down, and then back up. “She’s very pretty. And you’re both scenting very strongly.”
“Yes,” I said. “I suspect a pair bond, because it’s very intense.”
“Odd,” said the Queen with a little laugh. She tilted her head to one side. “We’re having someone look into your lineage. That will likely explain it all.”
“Oh, but will it?” said Eleri. “Erm, excuse me, Your Highness—”
“Majesty,” I corrected, clearing my throat.
Eleri looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh, it’s—”
“Majesty for the Queen, Highness for the other royals,” I said. “It’s not that important, really.” It was extremely important. Everything about being a royal was an exercise in pedantry.
“I’m so very sorry,” said Eleri. “Your Majesty. I meant no offense obviously, and—”
“Oh, really, don’t,” said the Queen, laughing again, as if it didn’t matter, but it did. “Go back to what you were saying, dearie?” She raised her eyebrows encouragingly.
“Well,” said Eleri tentatively, “I’m by no means an expert in genes, mind you, but it seems to me that the royals have spread their, erm, genes far and wide and that there’s a likelihood that many, many people who would be considered commoners would have some thread of that in them somewhere. Why, hundreds of years ago, as I understand, alpha heirs were given to siring bastard children all up and down the countryside, and there were never any children with designations coming out of that, so—”
“Yes,” said the Queen. “Right.” She furrowed her brow.
“Nobody really understands why only a few people with designations present in each generation, anyway,” said Eleri. “I know that the scientific community is always wanting to study—”
