Alex
I had never had the privilege of meeting His Majesty personally before, yet here I stood in his chamber, along with the King himself. Despite having received numerous medals for my service to the country, I had never been summoned to meet the King in such an intimate setting. Unsure whether it was an honor or not to be called upon by him, I nonetheless felt a sense of gratitude for the trust he placed in me.
Observing the protocol of not speaking before His Majesty, I entered the room and bowed respectfully, maintaining a stiff and attentive posture as I awaited his instruction. True to form, the King broke the silence first. "Welcome to Earnest Castle, Mr. Clifton. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice," he addressed me cordially. Gesturing toward a chair positioned before his desk, he invited me to take a seat with a wave of his hand.
With a respectful bow of my head, I replied, "The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty," my words carrying a polite tone accompanied by a small smile. Following his instruction, I took my seat in the chair positioned before his desk.
As His Majesty moved behind his desk and sighed, resting his hands on the back of his chair, I took a moment to survey the chamber. It was more akin to an office, with a sizable desk occupying one corner. Adjacent to it stood a wine shelf and a bookshelf, adding a touch of refinement to the room. Elegant sofas and a table adorned the space, complemented by classic paintings adorning the walls. Across from the desk, a large LED screen hung. A modern fireplace was served beneath it, adding warmth to the atmosphere.
I couldn't help but notice His Majesty's attire - a plain blue button-up shirt paired with black trousers. It struck me as unusual to see him in such casual attire, given the formality of the setting.
"Young man, you already know why you are here," he began, wasting no time in getting to the heart of the matter, and I listened intently. "I am not going to sugarcoat or prolong this conversation," he added, his tone grave and resolute. With a sigh, he continued, "I need your help, Mr. Clifton. My daughter..."
Pausing for a moment, he seemed to struggle with his words, a rare display of vulnerability that hinted at the depth of his concern. Clearing his throat, he pressed on, "My daughter, Amelia... she is very dear to me. Despite her belief otherwise, she holds a place in my heart that surpasses even that of our country," he confessed, his voice betraying a mixture of sorrow and determination.
"Unfortunately, she doesn't care about herself as much as she should. She's constantly causing trouble and breaking protocol, putting herself in great danger," he lamented, his gaze glossing over with pain. He swallowed hard, his anguish palpable. "I'm sure you already know how I lost her mother and my elder son," he added, his voice heavy with sorrow.
I nodded slowly, the memories resurfacing. Yes, I knew. They were killed in a terror attack while touring a small town near the border. The culprits remained unidentified and at large. I had been stationed abroad when the tragedy occurred, but the suspicious circumstances surrounding it had left me unsettled. However, questioning it was beyond my purview. Nonetheless, I listened as His Majesty continued.
"My daughter and I are always in danger. Intelligence is constantly warning me about Amelia's safety, but she simply doesn't seem to care. Countless bodyguards and caretakers have left because of her unreasonable behavior," he revealed, his tone tinged with frustration. "Mr. Clifton, I've brought you here today because I want you to understand just how challenging she can be before you accept this job," he concluded earnestly.
A small smile graced my lips. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, I've already accepted the job you offered," I asserted with unwavering certainty. It wasn't a matter of overconfidence; rather, it was a testament to my determination to see the task through, no matter how challenging it may be.
His Majesty's expression softened slightly. "I see, Mr. Clifton. I admire your resolve," he remarked with a nod of approval. "As I mentioned earlier, my daughter... well, her behavioral issues," he continued, his discomfort evident as he broached the topic. "The press constantly hounds her, seeking out drama, and she always delivers. She seems to revel in being the center of attention, often at the expense of her own reputation," he added, a trace of frustration coloring his words.
I nodded in understanding. "Yes, I've observed as much," I replied, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.
"Well, then I'm certain you're well aware of the kind of troubles she typically finds herself in," he emphasized, his tone underscoring the gravity of the consequences associated with her habitual entanglements. As I had done my research prior to our meeting, I was keenly aware of just how much she seemed to relish the negativity that surrounded her.
I respectfully nodded my head. "I certainly do, Your Majesty," I responded, acknowledging my understanding of the situation.
He slowly withdrew a chair and took a seat, his demeanor thoughtful. "So, there's no need for me to elaborate on those matters for you at this moment, Mr. Clifton?" he inquired.
"Certainly not," I assured him. It was evident how much Princess Amelia's recklessness troubled the King, and I felt no need to have him recount her transgressions when I was already well-acquainted with her reputation. My conversations with Randall provided some insight, but I also conducted my own research. A quick search of her name revealed a plethora of scandals, each more outrageous than the last. From semi-public nudity to confrontations with paparazzi, Princess Amelia's antics had become fodder for tabloids and gossip columns. It was clear that her behavior was a recurring issue, one that had likely prompted His Majesty to seek my assistance.
"If I may be frank with you, young man, I simply want her to behave," the King began, his tone heavy with sorrow. "I've had my fill of her recklessness and rebellion," he added with a sigh. "Since my son's death, she's next in line for the throne to be the Queen, but with her current behavior, I fear that might not be feasible. Despite her youth, I believe that if she changes her ways now, she can secure a safer future for herself. As dear as she is to me, she has no one else in her life besides me to look after her. Therefore, along with her protection, I want you to ensure that she behaves appropriately in public. I need you to ensure she steers clear of drugs and negative influences, which she seems to attract," he explained earnestly.
I nodded in acknowledgment, understanding the gravity of his request. There was a brief pause during which the King scrutinized me with his watchful eyes. "I've observed your methods in the field, Alexander," he addressed me by my first name for the first time. "I've reviewed reports of the teams you've led, and I must say, your work is remarkable. Your discipline, guidance, and protection are precisely what my daughter needs," he continued. Another pause ensued, his eyes reflecting a deep sense of sorrow. "Please, don't give up on her like everyone else has," he pleaded, his voice heavy with sadness.
My meeting with the King concluded swiftly. As I prepared to depart his chamber, I expressed my gratitude to His Majesty for entrusting me with this responsibility, and he reciprocated, thanking me for accepting the job. It was a fruitful exchange, revealing the genuine kindness of the King. I hoped to live up to his expectations and serve him well. His Majesty reassured me that I could contact him at any time regarding Princess Amelia, underscoring his concern for his daughter's well-being. After bidding him farewell with a respectful bow, I exited the chamber and proceeded through the castle's hallways.
My next appointment was with the security team to discuss our approach to Princess Amelia's protection. However, addressing her behavioral issues fell solely on my shoulders—there was no dedicated team assigned for that purpose, nor did I desire one. As I made my way toward where the security team awaited me, I caught a familiar voice echoing down the corridor. Recognizing it as Princess Amelia's, I followed the sound until I reached the end of the hallway. There, I observed her in conversation with a man, her demeanor visibly irked by his presence.
"I heard he got a beating from his cellmate for making a racist remark," her voice carried with a bitter undertone, accompanied by a disdainful snigger. "Isn't it satisfying when a criminal racist gets put in their place?" She taunted, clearly reveling in the discomfort displayed by the unfamiliar man before her. Positioned at the end of the hallway, I observed the exchange with careful attention, noting the inappropriate casual attire she wore. Princesses were typically bound by stricter sartorial standards, but she seemed indifferent to such conventions.
My gaze shifted to the man she conversed with, and a surge of disdain pulsed through me as I witnessed his lingering stare, thoroughly assessing her from head to toe. There was an unsettling aura surrounding him, prompting my fists to clench tightly behind me. I harbored a strong aversion to harassers, feeling a compelling urge to intervene, yet refrained, knowing my authority extended only to situations of physical danger.
As the man smirked and inched closer to her, my tension mounted. He whispered something in her ear, eliciting a visibly uncomfortable reaction from her. I remained vigilant as he sauntered away, leaving her visibly perturbed. However, as her gaze met mine, a distinct shift occurred in the atmosphere, ushering an unexpected pause in the unfolding drama.
She was initially taken aback by my sudden appearance, her expression shifting from surprise to confusion in a matter of seconds. Her scrutinizing gaze traversed the length of my form, lingering momentarily on the gun discreetly nestled in my belt. Despite her attempt to conceal it, her expressive countenance betrayed her recognition of who I was. A subtle challenge gleamed in her eyes as she regarded me anew, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her gaze. It was evident she perceived me as just another in a long line of her former bodyguards, unaware of the depth of my resolve.
Little did she know, I was no mere guardian to be toyed with. If she chose to cooperate, I would be her staunch protector. However, should she resist, I would swiftly become her greatest nightmare. Her gaze met mine in a silent standoff, each of us silently asserting our own determination. She seemed resolved not to yield, but I was equally steadfast in my resolve. I possessed strategies and tactics she could not anticipate, and if she anticipated a repeat of her past exploits with her previous guardians, she would soon realize her mistake.