Tormented Royal by Lily Wildhart
Chapter One
“Rise and shine, princess.” The snicker makes me stir, but it’s the icy water raining down on me that wakes me right the hell up.
“What the fuck?!” My shout comes out half choked as I struggle to breathe against the stream of freezing cold water raining down on my face.
“Welcome back to Echoes Cove, Octavia. You may be the nation’s Princess to the rest of the world, but here, I’m the Queen. You better not forget it.” My vapid bitch cousin, Blair, flicks her long, blonde hair over her shoulder before spinning and leaving the pool house I’m currently calling home.
I lie back down on the wet sheets, in a pool of icy water, and curse my dad for being so fucking selfish once again. Thanks to him, I’m trapped in Echoes Cove for senior year, and I am obviously not wanted around here, by anyone. Unfortunately for everyone involved, I’m trapped in this hellhole for at least ten more months until I graduate. My eighteenth birthday cannot get here fast enough, at least then I can move out of this house of horrors.
Taking a deep breath, I push myself up and out of bed, not caring about my wet hair or pajamas, and strip the bed. I know my aunt and uncle have staff for this sort of thing, but one, it’s so not cool to leave this kind of mess for someone else; and two, I want the mattress to actually be dry when I go to sleep tonight. Luckily, the bed is in the middle of the room, so if I keep the curtains open it should heat up plenty and dry everything out.
The pool house, where I’ve been shoved like a toy no one wants to play with, is deceptively big. I have my own kitchenette—not that I can cook to save my life, but I keep the mini fridge stocked with peach iced tea, and all the things I need to bake red velvet cupcakes in the cupboards, should the urge hit me. The headboard of the bed sits against the counter, which is convenient when I want water but can’t be bothered to get out of bed, and there’s a small sofa to the left of it where there is a small living space. Two of the walls are basically just giant panes of glass, so it looks bigger than it is. Luckily, the curtains in here are all blackout, so I can get some half decent sleep.
Once I’ve wrestled the sheets into the hamper, I take a deep breath and repeat the mantra that has gotten me through the past few weeks.
I can get through this. It’s just under a year. I can survive this.
I pull my wet, chestnut-brown hair into a messy bun, pull on some dry yoga pants, pocket my earpods, and trudge over to the main house, wet t-shirt and all. I don’t have any fucks left to give about what the people in there might think of me. Thankfully, the blistering summer heat means I won’t be cold or wet for long.
“Good morning, Miss Royal. How are you this morning?” Pattie, my aunt and uncle’s cook, cleaner, and well, general caretaker, smiles at me warmly as I enter the kitchen from the back of the house. Her smile drops when she takes in my appearance, but I shake my head.
“I’m fine.” I give her a tight smile, and hope the shake of my head is enough to keep her from peppering me with questions as she has done every morning since I arrived. My father’s death was originally ruled as suspicious, and everyone seems to have their own opinions on that. Despite my requests not to talk about it, everyone wants to tell me their theories, even though that ruling was overturned. It took two weeks before they deemed it a suicide, during which I stayed with Mac and the rest of the team. My found family. But after the cremation, and reading of the will, child services dragged me here despite my protests.
Out of everyone in this place, Pattie’s been the nicest since I arrived two weeks ago, though the bar here has been set pretty low. But she, at least, has treated me like an actual human being.
“If you’re sure.” She frowns as she looks me up and down again, but then forces a smile as I shift from foot to foot and try to look anywhere but directly at her friendly face. “Food is on the table in the breakfast room. If you need anything else, please let me know.”
“Thank you, Pattie.” I turn and head toward the breakfast room, trying not to laugh. Who the fuck has a room just for breakfast anyway? This McMansion is beyond insane, and for the umpteenth time, I can’t help but be kind of glad I’m in the pool house. At least I can’t get lost out there.
“Good morning, Octavia.” My aunt’s shrill voice makes me wince. Fuck ever having a hangover around her. Her voice is squeakier than a fucking dog toy. “I assume from your current state, you fell into the pool on your way to the house?”
Blair snickers from her chair, hiding it terribly as a cough, but my aunt and uncle are too busy scowling at me to notice. Though my aunt has had so much work done, it’s hard to tell if she’s frowning at me or if that’s just how she looks now. Almost everything about her is devoid of life and emotion. Even her platinum hair hangs straight and dead.
My uncle brings his newspaper back in front of his potbelly and rounded face, his disapproval very much evident from the narrow-eyed look he gave me. Though his sparse hair doesn’t exactly help the thinning look, his dark combover just makes me laugh. “In the future, I expect you to be dressed before you come for breakfast. I don’t care how you lived when you were with your father. While you’re living in our house, you’ll follow our rules.”
“Sure thing, Uncle Nate.” I sigh as I slip into the spare chair opposite Blair. Her smug look is almost enough to make me lose my appetite, but I’m not about to give up the joy of food because of her.
“You need to go to the office when you get to the school,” Aunt Vivienne starts, and I clench my jaw in preparation for the deluge of bullshit that’s getting ready to spew from her lips. “The office administrator will have your schedule and locker designation for you. Your uniform is hanging in your closet, Pattie collected it for you on Friday… And before I forget, you haven’t sent over your rent payment. I suggest speaking to your bank and having a regular payment set up so we don’t have any issues while you’re staying here.”
“Yes, Aunt Vivienne,” I grind out. Paying them rent is my penance for my father leaving everything he had to me, with no limitation and no guardian to watch my money until I turn eighteen. Well, so long as I graduate ECP with a 4.0 GPA, but that's beside the point. Hell, the only reason I’m staying here is because of the clause in my father’s will, stating I must actually reside with my guardian until I come of legal age. Stupid fucking clause if you ask me, since I’m financially independent, but what’s a girl to do? “I thought I’d have to meet with the guidance counselor to pick my classes?”
She looks down her nose at me and tuts. “If you’d paid any attention to the brochures I put in the pool house, you’d know that isn’t how things work at Echoes Cove Prep. Your classes are picked in advance so they can build the schedule. You were a late enrollment, so you should be thankful you have a spot there at all.”
I nod and take a deep breath, pushing down all the spiteful comments that threaten to rise. I reach for a bagel, and Vivienne clucks, looking down her nose at me with a quirked eyebrow. Got to love the disapproval coming from her in waves.
“Carbs will do horrible things to your hips, Octavia,” she scolds, and I roll my eyes, slathering the bagel in cream cheese and taking a bite anyway. I’ll be damned if I’m letting these assholes dictate any more of my life to me than they already have power to. I’ll eat whatever the hell I want.
“She’s a lost cause, Mother. I mean, just look at her. She’s not going to fit in at school at all. I don’t understand why she’s coming to the prep anyway. I’m sure Octavia would feel much more comfortable at public school,” Blair whines. She makes it out like she’s doing me a favor, but if her little show this morning is anything to go by, she doesn’t want me anywhere near her school. I have no idea why, though. The last thing on Earth I want is her perceived crown. She can keep it. Popularity contests don’t interest me in the slightest. I’d rather have a small group of true friends than the masses kissing my feet just because they feel like they should. Life with my dad on the road taught me that much. Fake friends are not the way forward.
I finish my bagel, drowning out their inane drivel by slipping one of my ear pods from my pocket into my ear. If nothing else, I will always be a child of music. Music is my higher power—my soul needs it to survive. Once I finish my food, I push away from the table, not saying a word since no one is paying attention to their newest inconvenience anyway, and head back to the pool house to find my uniform. Maybe Echoes Cove Prep won’t be worse than being here with a group of people who couldn’t feel any less like a functional, loving family.
I snort. Yeah right. Here, at the house, there’s only Blair. At school, there will be an entire fucking herd of mini-Blairs. Once upon a time, I went to school with most of these people, but that’s before my mom split and my dad hit the big time with his music. Both of their families were richer than God, though after my mom left, they disowned us both. Thankfully Dad had his own money, so life wasn’t turned upside down anymore than it already had been. When we went on the road, he had huge arguments with my grandparents, but I was never close to them. They died not long after we left… It feels like a lifetime ago now.
I’m not the same person I was back then, and I don’t expect anyone else to be either. Life on the road, with my dad, his band, the roadies… They are my people. They helped shape me into the person I am today, and I’m glad. I think if I’d grown up here, I’d be just like Blair, and the thought alone makes me want to yeet myself through a plate glass window.
After going back to the pool house, I lock the doors from the inside, double checking them since I’m pretty sure I locked them last night and Blair still got in. Once I know it’s secure, I head toward the shower. The bathroom is one of the only redeemable qualities about being forced to live here. The shower is legit becoming my fortress of solitude. I never want to leave. After living in hotels and on a tour bus for years, a good shower is something I’ve learned to appreciate.
I don’t rush. It’s just fucking school, and I’ve never really been a high maintenance kind of girl, so why be in a hurry? I smother my hair in my honey and vanilla shampoo that I discovered when I was in the UK, and I refuse to ever go back. When I put the conditioner on, I use my honey soap that I ship in from Marseille. It’s to die for, and I just adore the smell. I enjoy the solace of my morning, knowing that once I leave here, my peace isn’t likely to last.
I blow out my dark hair, which falls dead straight down to my waist, though the only real attention I pay styling is to my bangs. My hair is pretty thick, so it requires a little wrangling to make my bangs look awesome. Once my hair is done, I head to the closet, but I don’t find the uniform Pattie supposedly left for me. I swear to God, if Blair took it to fuck with me, I’m not afraid of punching her right in her new nose.
I close the empty closet door and open the door next to it—another fucking closet—and find the uniforms. Five of them. At least that's one for each day I guess. Who needs this much space for clothes? I’m used to living out of a suitcase… Tour life isn’t as glamorous as people think. I’m not sure I’ve ever had or needed enough clothes to fill one of these closets, let alone two. Pulling the protective, plastic bag from the hanger, I take in the uniform.
The skirt is black and white plaid, which comes with thigh high socks and a starched white shirt. Along with them is a black and white neckerchief thing and a fitted black blazer, both embroidered with the school crest which has accents of a teal green… Someone fucking save me. There’s a note taped to the hanger that catches my eye.
Shoe choice is optional.
However, I suggest a pair of Mary Janes or something equally as sophisticated.
My aunt can choke on a dick.
If I have to wear this get up, and the shoe choice is optional, I’m wearing my Chucks. I pull on the excuse of a uniform and groan as I take in my reflection. I knew it was going to be bad, but holy fuck. I spin around and face-palm. My ass is practically on show with how short this stupid skirt is, like I know I have curves, and I’ve always loved them, but damn. I look like something out of a fucking porn movie.
Please let this be the worst part of my day…
* * *
Whispers follow me as I walk from my rental car toward the main doors of Echoes Cove Prep. At this point in my life, rumors and gossip are nothing new. Being the daughter of Stone Royal means this stuff has followed me for almost my entire life. He was the nation’s King, and I was their Princess. Whispers were part of the territory.
Except these whispers… They have nothing to do with my old life. These whispers have everything to do with me being back here at Echoes Cove Prep for my senior year. It’s not hard to overhear everyone talking about me. Most of it isn’t true, so the whispers of whore and slut don’t bother me so much. It’s the whispers about my dad that sting. I should’ve known that Echoes Cove would have more gossip than Page Six.
It’s obvious from the sneers and lewd glances that these people don’t want me here any more than I want to be here. I wonder once again why my dad thought that this would be a good idea, what it was that made him put that stipulation in his will. There are better schools in the world than ECP, so why send me back to this pit of despair?
The whispers of why I’m back just add to my want to be anywhere but here. The jealousy from having full access to my inheritance seems to be another thing that fuels the rumor mill.
“I heard she fucked her lawyer to get him to change her dad's will and forge the signature.”
“I heard she offed her dad just for the money.”
“Well, Becky heard her dad didn’t even commit suicide. It was a murder cover up. I bet she did it.”
I roll my eyes. The things people say blow my mind, but I know the truth, so I try not to let it get to me. They might not want me here, and honestly? I would have much rather spent the year homeschooling and continuing to travel, so the feeling is more than mutual. Plus, I’m a little worried about how well I’m going to fare in traditional schooling compared to homeschooling as it is.
I know I’m not like a lot of the trust fund babies here, thanks to my dad. While most of them will have limits to what they can access in their trust funds, I don’t… And I’ll never, ever have to worry about money again, so long as I stick to the stipulations in the will, and I fully intend on doing that. All that money is one hell of a point of contention with my aunt and uncle. Apparently, despite the mansion on Ballers’ Row and the fact that they’re both from what Aunt Vivienne likes to call ‘old money,’ plus the fact that Uncle Nate is a hugely successful investment banker, I’m still an incredible drain on their resources.
Yeah, that was a fun conversation. The one where they told me I’d have to pay my way because they couldn’t possibly take me in, out of the goodness of their hearts. It doesn’t really bother me, though. Money isn’t everything… I'd much rather have one last day with Dad, doing all of our favorite things. Granted, if I said that out loud around here, I’d probably be shot.
I shake my head to clear the thought and focus on the front of the school as I approach. It looks like the type of school you see on TV with the pale stone arch around the large main entry doors. The year the school was founded along with the school crest—a shield with a horse and swords, topped with a crown, surrounded by flora—is engraved at the apex of the arch, just the way I remember it. The red brick exterior is still covered with ivy, and it screams money as much now as it did the last time I walked these halls. It might only be a three-story building, but it’s so fucking imposing. It all feels like a lie. This isn’t a place where dreams come to thrive. It’s where they go to die.
I watch the people around me and wish I was anywhere but here. Everyone around here is so fake, and despite how I grew up—or maybe because of it—fake is everything I despise.
These people… Well, they were my people once upon a time, but everything I’ve seen in the few weeks I’ve been back in Echoes Cove tells me that either I’m not the same person I was when I left, or they aren’t. My cousin, who was once practically my sister, is nothing short of a vapid bitch from hell, and my once three best girlfriends… Well, from what I’ve heard from Blair, they’re her friends now and every bit like her.
That's before I even think about the boys who were once my rocks… my saviors. If they’re anything like Blair has said, then everything about being back here is going to suck. I haven’t heard from any of them since I got back into town, and Blair made it clear to me that I was persona-non-grata to them. I hate that she might be right, but if they’re anything like I’ve heard, then maybe it’s for the best. It seems I’m not the only one who’s changed in the last five years.
Thankfully, I’ve been able to hide out in the pool house since coming back to Echoes Cove. I've been able to avoid the truth of my new reality, but today there’s no escaping the facts of it all. Now I’m here, ass deep in it and wishing I was anywhere else.
I try to pull down the skirt of this stupid-ass uniform while I walk, ignoring everyone, and head to the office to pick up my schedule and locker assignment. How this skirt, along with the thigh high socks, can be considered a demure school uniform is completely beyond me. My best guess is that the principal is a perv. That or whoever is pulling his strings likes this ridiculous outfit… and is also a perv. My shirt is almost too tight around the girls, and I’m pretty sure the outline of my bra is on full show, and the blazer is definitely a slim fit too. I look fucking ridiculous. I would kill for my jeans, band tees, and leather jacket back.
I push open the door to the office to find an older, gray-haired woman sitting behind a desk in an excessively lush office. You’d think the wood paneling would be enough, but no. There are gold accents on everything, and a mass of plants that makes me feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate world entirely. Maybe I’m in the wrong place.
“Hello, dear, can I help you?” She looks me up and down, her bright and sparkly voice at odds with the resting bitch face she looks at me with.
“My name is Octavia Royal. I just started here and was told this is where I should come for my class schedule and locker assignment.”
“Oh yes, I should have known. We don’t get new students very often at all. Please take a seat, and I’ll get your things.” I glance over my shoulder as she points, spotting a shiny, black leather sofa. Taking a seat, I try not to wince at the chill of the leather on the back of my thighs. Stupid fucking skirt.
She gets up and heads into one of what I’m assuming are smaller offices just as the door to the principal’s office opens. My stomach drops. I swear to fuck, I didn’t think my day could get any worse, and yet here we are. I knew I’d see one of them at some point, the school isn’t big enough for me to avoid them for long, but to see him before my day even starts? It feels like a bad omen.
Maverick Riley walks out of the door, flicking his messy brown hair out of his eyes, swagger on point like he’s walking a fucking runway. If it wasn’t for the twisted grin on his face, I’d think he was actually in trouble; but when the principal shows his sweaty face, I know that’s far from the truth. “It was good doing business with you, teach. Just remember the rules, and this year will go just fine.”
That’s when he sees me, and his twisted grin turns to nothing. His dark brown eyes look at me as if he can see all the way through to my very soul. If my icy wake up call this morning hadn’t already chilled me to the bone, his look would freeze my black little heart. “You’re back.”
I roll my eyes because, well done, Sherlock Holmes. “Obviously.”
“I didn’t think you’d be brave enough to actually do it. Not after the way you ran away,” he says, his empty voice giving me goosebumps as he looks me over. I try not to react to the boy who was my best friend once upon a time. Well… one of my best friends. Especially when I have no idea what he’s going on about. “Guess I’ll be seeing you, princess.”
His dismissal stings as he saunters out of the office. His tall, lean form shouldn’t be so fluid and graceful, yet somehow he pulls it off with an insane amount of swagger.
I didn’t expect things to go back to how they were, but to be treated like we have no history? Yeah, that cuts deep.
The office door closes behind him just as the older woman returns to her desk. I brush off the interaction, instead taking note of the principal retreating back into his office. That only holds my attention for a second because I can’t get Maverick off of my mind. Why was he so cold in the short period of time we were in the office together? And what did he mean that I ran away? None of it makes any sense to me. I guess being friends with the guys is off the table, but that’s fine. I don’t plan on sticking around in Echoes Cove long enough for it to matter too much.
I hope.
My phone buzzes, so I slide it out of my pocket as the office lady shuffles through some papers.
Unknown: Welcome back to Echoes Cove, Miss Royal. We look forward to seeing you soon.
Yeah, because that isn’t weird at all. Nope.
I delete the message with a decisive shake of my head. It’s probably just an automated prep school message or some shit. No one really knows that I’m here, especially not anyone who has this number anyway. Though knowing my delightful family, I’m sure Blair probably has it. And considering her feelings toward me, anyone here at Echoes Cove Prep could have it too.
Fuck my life.
“Here you go, dear,” the woman finally says, offering me the stack of papers she’s been shuffling around on the desk. “Your schedule is as was pre-approved with your guardian. As you know you were a late enrollment, so your guardian picked your classes with the guidance counselor—I know that your old house manager was consulted about your prior education since no one else seemed to have any answers. It’s all locked in now, so let’s hope it’s all okay.” She smiles at me softly, but it doesn’t bring me joy. I look down at my schedule and roll my eyes. AP English, Business, AP Music, Stats, French, and Gym. This structured schooling thing is going to hurt. I can feel it already. But at least Gym is at the end of the day, I guess. “Your locker combination and a map of the school are there too, along with the Code of Conduct, and a few other things. Just have a quick read, sign them, and drop them back here before the end of the day. I’ve also included your login for ReachMe, it’s the school's social media site. Students aren’t permitted to use wider social media without permission from a parent or guardian while attending the school, for your safety and the safety of the other students. You will just need to reset your password once you log in. If you don’t have any questions, hurry along. You don’t want to be late for your first class.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her, standing with a wince as my skin pulls against the cold leather, and grab the papers before leaving the office. She couldn’t be more wrong. I’d love to be late for my first class and every class after that too. Hell, I’d like to just leave and never come back. If it wasn’t for my dad's insane demands via his will, I’d be out of here in a heartbeat, but the thought of giving up my dreams keeps my ass in this school. There's nothing quite like the possibility of my dreams going up in smoke to keep me on track.
I head to my locker. Thankfully, it isn’t too far from the office, but unfortunately it is in the main freaking hall as you enter the school. I shove my bag inside before checking my schedule.
“Well, well, well, the princess really is back to grace us with her presence.”
I groan into my locker, stomach jumping at the sound of that particular voice behind me. I am so not ready to deal with this bullshit right now, but I guess if I get it all out the way now, the rest of my year should be clear. Right?
I turn around to find Maverick standing with Lincoln Saint and Finley Knight. The three guys who were once the closest people in the world to me are now glaring at me like they would prefer it if I’d died along with my dad—and I have no idea why.
“Do you guys have something important to say? I have to get to class,” I huff, refusing to show them just how rattled I really am that they sought me out, especially like this.
After Blair’s cruel taunts and my run-in with Maverick earlier, I didn’t exactly expect a warm welcome from them, but at least when I left here, we were friends. Sure, it’s been a minute, but the icy chill coming from them feels like a little much, though it does match the theme of the day.
Despite the chilly reception, I can’t help but give them a quick once over. Lincoln still looks just as dark and broody as he did as a kid. All the way from his jet black hair down to his dark gray eyes, he still looks like a permanent storm cloud. His smile never quite reaches his eyes. And Finley… well, he bulked out more than I would’ve imagined from when I knew him before. He must live at the gym in his spare time. His blond hair falls into his icy blue eyes as he stares at me, and the wave of chilly energy coming off of them makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
They don’t say anything. I expect it from Finley; he’s always been the quiet one. Lincoln, though, he’s always been the leader of their little Three Musketeers boyband. He sneers at me as Blair and her merry band of bitches appear to stand with the guys. I guess this is the royal court of Echoes Cove Prep.
“Little Miss thinks she’s better than all of us. I mean, really, look at those shoes. Maybe her having access to her inheritance is a lie. Who would wear those ratty excuses for shoes? Maybe she’s just a gold digger here to snatch up a rich husband.” Emma—one of my old friends, now seemingly attached at the hip with Blair—taunts, but I turn back to my locker and sort out my books that were already waiting for me. Got to love private school, I guess.
“I think whoever ordered her uniform thought she was skinnier, look how fat her ass is. It’s practically hanging from her skirt. What a whore.” I don’t know which of them said it this time, but I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the comments and the giggling.
I turn back around to face the three boys who were once my whole world, standing among the snarling girls who look like they’d happily smother me in my sleep just for returning.
The guys still don’t say anything, and their silence almost stings more than I imagine their words could. Once upon a time, they would have never iced me out like this or let others speak to me this way. Once upon a time is starting to feel like a lifetime ago. So I slam my locker closed and head toward my first class, feeling their stares burn into the back of my head the entire way.
Stares don’t bother me. Those I’m used to, so I shut it all out and keep my head held high.
This is just another day in the life of Octavia Royal.