Royal Treatment 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.

  Darby Creek

  A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  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: Coleman, K. R., author.

  Title: Royal treatment / K.R. Coleman.

  Description: Minneapolis : Darby Creek, [2019] | Series: Suddenly royal | Summary: Grace Valmont-Diaz is an unpopular sixteen-year-old, who dreams of escaping small-town Iowa. But when she learns of her royal heritage and receives a warm—but possible insincere—welcome in her homeland, Evonia, she must decide if she really wants her title and all it entails.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2017053158 (print) | LCCN 2017061160 (ebook) | ISBN 9781541525986 (eb pdf) | ISBN 9781541525726 (lb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781541526419 (pb : alk. paper)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Identity—Fiction. | Secrets—Fiction. | Nobility—Fiction. | Social classes—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.C644 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.C644 Roy 2019 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017053158

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1-44556-35487-2/28/2018

  9781541531420 mobi

  9781541531437 ePub

  9781541531444 ePub

  To Aiden, my amazing niece who has always loved to read

  1

  The summer I turned sixteen seemed to stretch before me like the endless cornfields that surrounded my hometown of Colton, Iowa. I was bored. I was restless. And thanks to my parents’ recent divorce, I no longer had a permanent home. Instead I was stuck rolling back and forth between my parents’ places on my skateboard.

  I found myself wishing that at least one of my parents had moved somewhere more interesting after the split.

  Even though we’d lived in Colton my whole life, I’d never felt like any of us belonged in this town. My mom is from the European country of Evonia, and although she moved to America ages ago, she still didn’t seem to be fully comfortable in Iowa. She is a respected art history teacher at a small liberal arts university but doesn’t do much socializing outside of work. And my dad is a former almost rock star who is still more concerned with making music than getting to know the neighbors. Although this left me with far more knowledge about frescoes than the average teenager, plus some reasonably impressive skills with a guitar, it didn’t exactly pave the way for community involvement. Or for me to hang out with the neighborhood kids.

  The handful of friends I have were away at summer camps or on family vacations, leaving me to fend for myself.

  So there I was. Skating down the sidewalk from my dad’s house to my mom’s. A new song my dad and I had been working on was rolling around in my head. I was so focused on the chords that I jumped in surprise when a car horn blared behind me.

  I turned around and saw Chrissy Swenson, captain of the soccer team, the most popular girl in my grade, and perpetual thorn in my side, driving her black jeep. There were four other girls from the soccer team riding along.

  Chrissy grinned at me as she slowed to cruise along at my speed. “Hey look, guys, it’s Grace,” she said. “And she’s added some blue streaks to her hair. Isn’t she cool? Don’t you want to be just like her?”

  “I bet the color washes out,” the girl sitting closest to me in the back seat said. And before I knew what was happening, she stood up and reached her water bottle out the window. A blast of cold water hit the side of my face.

  I lost my balance and had to jump off my skateboard before I fell off.

  As I stood dripping, I could hear the girls laughing.

  “She has the least amount of grace I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Chrissy said in a voice loud enough for me to hear as they drove away.

  I wiped away the water drops streaking down my face and thought about how much I wanted to get out of Colton.

  2

  I rolled up to my mom’s house and let myself in. Several things immediately surprised me. First, my mom was wearing a nice dress instead of jeans and a T-shirt like she usually wore.

  And second, she was cleaning. Or, more accurately, she was running around the living room throwing random things into a laundry basket. My mom rarely cleaned. Usually books and papers were scattered everywhere. She always had at least three projects going on at the same time, but cleaning was never one of them.

  “Grace!” she said in surprise as I came in. “You’re here.”

  “It’s your week to have me,” I said. “Lucky you.” This had become a pretty typical exchange over the last few months. My mom usually didn’t keep track of when I would be coming and going.

  “I just thought you wouldn’t be here until later.”

  Just then, the front door opened again and my dad stepped into the house.

  “I came as soon as I got your text,” he burst out.

  “Grace is already here too,” my mom said, giving him a pointed look.

  I looked at my mom and then at my dad. “What is going on?”

  “Why don’t you sit down,” my mom said, pointing to a comfy blue chair.

  I sat, and my parents sat down across from me on a cat-hair-covered couch.

  “We have something to tell you,” my mom said, looking nervously at my father. “My sister is in the States and she wants to meet you.”

  I looked at her confused.

  “Wait. What? You have a sister?” I was shocked. I had always assumed my mom was an only child, just like my dad. The only thing she ever told me about her family back in Evonia was that her had parents died when I was little. She never mentioned a sister.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I didn’t know what questions to ask first. I had an aunt! “What’s her name?”

  “Caroline,” my mom said. “She’ll be here this afternoon.”

  I sat there, stunned.

  “And I was always going to tell you,” my mom said. “It just never felt like the right time.”

  “You couldn’t find the right time to tell me that you had a sister? That I had an aunt?”

  “It’s complicated,” my dad jumped to my mom’s defense.

  That was exactly what they’d said when I’d asked why they were getting a divorce. The fiery ball that had lived in the pit of my stomach since the divorce blazed up, hotter than ever. “Well, don’t bother trying to explain then,” I said coldly. “When I meet Caroline, I can ask her.”

  “Actually,” said my mom hesitantly, “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for you to meet her.”

  “What?”

  “I just don’t know if now is the right time for her to come into your life.”

  “You didn’t seem to think about timing with anything else you’ve thrown at me this year. As far as I’m concerned now is the perfect time,” I snapped. “Maybe it means I can find some family that I can actually rely on.”

  I didn’t even let the accusation
sink in before I grabbed my skateboard and stormed out of the house, letting the screen door slam behind me.

  3

  Once I’d stormed out, I wasn’t sure where to go. I realized I had no idea when my aunt was getting here—Mom had just said “this afternoon”—and I didn’t want to miss her arrival. But I couldn’t just sit on my mom’s front steps for hours either. It was way too hot to be outside for that. I decided to go to the corner convenience store to bask in their air conditioning and grab a slushie. Maybe that would help me calm down.

  I rolled down the street, thinking, An aunt. How much does she know about me? And why don’t I know anything about her? I felt blindsided.

  Within ten minutes, I’d gotten to the store, bought myself a cherry slushie, and began skating slowly back toward my mom’s house. Sipping on my drink, I started coming up with my plan of attack. I had more questions to ask. More things I wanted to know. Things I deserved to know.

  As I approached my mom’s house, I saw that a spotless black SUV had pulled up along the curb right outside. My heart sped up. Could this be—

  Behind me, an engine revved. I looked back, worried it might be Chrissy and her friends again, but it was just an old pickup truck instead.

  By the time I turned to face forward again, it was too late. I was only feet away from the SUV. A man in a black suit was holding the door open for a woman in a cream-colored dress who was stepping out right in front of me. I tried to swerve but lost my balance. The cherry slushie flew into the air and hit the ground like a grenade. For the second time that day, I flew off my skateboard. This time I landed hard on the sidewalk. When I looked up, I saw red slushie splattered all over the woman’s cream dress and satin shoes. I groaned at the sight of it.

  “Miss? Are you all right?” the man in the black suit asked, helping me stand up.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you,” I said to the woman as she tried to wipe the slushie off her dress.

  She mumbled something about American carelessness. And then she pointed down to my skinned knee. “Duncan,” she said to the man in the black suit. “She needs to be taken care of. She seems to be injured.”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  The man in the suit took a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me.

  “Put pressure on it,” he said. As I did, I looked up at the woman again and realized she had the same amber-colored eyes as my mother and me.

  “Caroline?” I guessed.

  “This is Lady Caroline Valmont, Duchess of Ardlan,” Duncan said in a firm tone.

  “Oh. Uh, sorry, I thought you were my aunt.”

  The woman did a double take. “Is your mother Eleanor?”

  “Yes,” I said. “And I’m Grace.”

  We each stood there frozen, looking at each other.

  4

  After staring at me for a long moment, my aunt said, “What is that in your nose?”

  “A nose ring,” I said.

  She looked slightly horrified. “Your mother let you put that there?”

  “She’s not a fan of it,” I admitted. “But she’s always encouraged me to develop my own style.”

  “I see,” Caroline said.

  “So,” I said, trying to change the subject, “how did you get to be a duchess?”

  Her eyes widened. “Has your mother told you nothing?”

  “Well, I just learned I had an aunt about thirty minutes ago,” I said.

  She grew silent. Her lips pursed. And then she took my hand in hers.

  “Grace, darling,” she said, “there is so much you don’t know. Where do I even begin?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Your mother and father didn’t leave Evonia on good terms.”

  “They never told me that.”

  “Yes, well, there was a bit of a . . . disagreement within the family,” Caroline said slowly. “And we’ve been out of touch for too long. But I’m here to put an end to that. I want to get to know my only niece. Make amends. Heal our family.”

  I could tell that there was more to this story, but I was grateful and a bit relieved that she, at least, was willing to open up to me.

  I smiled at her hesitantly.

  “Can I call you Aunt Caroline? Or do I have to call you Lady Caroline whatever-it-was that Duncan called you?” I asked.

  My aunt gave me a genuine smile. “Aunt Caroline would be perfect.”

  At that moment, my mom and dad came out onto the porch.

  “Caroline,” my mom said, eyeing my aunt’s red-stained dress.

  “Eleanor,” Caroline said in a clipped voice as my mom approached. They learned in and kissed each other twice on each cheek, but their tones were icy.

  And then my mom saw me.

  “Grace!” she said, surprised. “You’re back.” She looked me up and down and spotted my skinned knee. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine, but I think I might have ruined Caroline’s dress. I should take her inside so she can change.”

  Duncan grabbed a small suitcase out of the back of the car, and he trailed behind my aunt as she followed me inside. My dad tried to say something to Caroline, but she walked past him as if he didn’t exist. I saw him look back at my mom and my mom shake her head. Whatever happened years ago, I could tell that nobody was over it.

  I took Aunt Caroline upstairs to the spare bedroom that used to be my dad’s old office.

  “Do you want me to get you some stain spray?” I asked as Duncan set her suitcase on the bed.

  “No thank you, dear,” she said. “I’m not sure if this poor dress can be saved.”

  “There’s a dry cleaner down the street. I can run it there,” I offered.

  “I will take care of it,” Duncan said to me. “Why don’t you go make your aunt some tea?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  When I entered the kitchen, my mom already had the teakettle on the stove.

  “There’s some iced tea in the fridge,” I said, realizing how warm the house was already.

  “She’d never drink iced tea,” my mom said dismissively as she searched through the tins of tea in the cupboard.

  “Mom,” I said. “Did you know Caroline is a duchess?”

  My mom’s hand froze in midair. Her back stiffened. She slowly turned around to face me.

  “Why don’t the three of us sit outside on the porch,” she said as my dad walked into the kitchen. “It’s getting hot in here.”

  I followed them out on the porch and slumped down in a wicker chair.

  “So,” I said, “what’s the deal with your sister being a duchess?”

  My mom looked at my dad and took a deep breath. “My sister and I belong to Evonia’s royal family, the Valmonts.”

  “Did you say royal family?” Without even giving her a chance to answer, I burst out, “Why am I only hearing about all this now?”

  My mom dropped her gaze. “I didn’t want to burden you with my past,” she said. I watched as my dad reached for her hand.

  “Tell me everything.” I stared at my parents’ hands.

  “Well, your great-great-great-grandfather was King of Evonia many years ago,” my mom began.

  “A king?”

  “Yes,” my mom said, her eyes looking sad.

  “So,” I asked. “Does that make me a princess?”

  My mom hesitated. “Not exactly, but it does make you royal.”

  The teakettle whistled inside. None of us made a move for it. I heard the click of Duncan’s shoes cross the kitchen tiling and the whistling stopped. The silence felt louder than the kettle had been.

  “So I’m royalty,” I finally said, testing out the sentence.

  “You are,” my aunt said, stepping onto the porch. “And someday you will inherit my title and become a duchess too.”

  5

  My aunt sat down in the wicker chair next to mine, and Duncan appeared with a tray of tea. He passed around hideous mugs my mom had gotten from an overly eager student—the on
ly matching set my parents owned, as far as I was aware.

  My parents and aunt sat quietly. But I wasn’t going to let my parents get away with this so easily. The anger that had subsided in the shock of meeting my aunt had started to bubble up again.

  “So.” I fixed my mom with an accusatory glance. “What else have you been keeping from me? Is there more I should know?”

  My parents were both silent.

  “Would you like me to tell her?” Aunt Caroline asked.

  My mom shot her a look that did nothing to hide her anger. “We will tell her.”

  “Fine.” My aunt sat back in her chair again.

  “Your father and I met in Evonia,” my mom began, glancing over at my dad.

  “I know,” I said impatiently. “Dad was traveling around Europe trying to make it big with his band, and you worked at an art gallery. I’ve heard this story before.”

  “Yes,” my mom said. “We fell in love fairly fast.”

  “Too fast, in some people’s opinion,” my dad added, glaring at my aunt.

  “So I brought your dad home to meet my family.”

  “And the family was not impressed,” Aunt Caroline said before she took another sip of tea.

  “It was not their decision to make,” my mom fired at her sister. “And not up to the family to pass judgement. Instead of supporting my marriage to Miguel, you all told me to break it off.”

  Aunt Caroline’s calm demeanor slipped away. “I just wanted you to be happy. And now look, you’re divorced. You could’ve saved yourself years of heartache. It was such a mistake.”

  “Please, Caroline,” my mom hissed at her sister. “It was not a mistake. My beautiful daughter was born because of that marriage.”

  For the first time since she’d arrived, my aunt looked ashamed.

  “Of course,” Caroline said, looking first at my mom and then at me. “I didn’t mean that. I was so happy the day you were born, Grace. I was one of the first ones to hold you.”