Cruel King: A Dark New Adult Romance (Royal Elite)

You may be noble, but stay away from King.

This is the last place I should be.

Alcohol, drunk teenagers, and thumping music.

A party.

Not to be dramatic, although I probably am, this place is like my worst nightmare wrapped in super-expensive watered down alcohol.

Now, I’m not that much of a fun-ruiner, although my best friend Dan would say otherwise.

Spoiler alert, don’t believe anything Dan says. He’s into drama and all that jazz.

But I promised him I’d attend one party before the summer starts. Since Dan is part of the football team, I expected him to take me to their usual thing — not that I know what that is, but I had an idea it’d be in some posh house in London.

However, the sneaky wanker chose the party. AKA the mother of all freaking parties in Royal Elite.

When Dan and I walked inside, I had to double-check and see if we were somehow trespassing into the queen’s holiday mansion and if I should tell her majesty that I saw the drunk captain of the rugby team piss in her pool.

To say the place is huge would be like saying the Vikings are tiny. Okay, that was lame, but I kind of insert the Vikings in any similes I make.

Golden arcs decorate the entrance all the way to the massive lounge area. The vaulted ceilings and the sweeping stairs only add to how ridiculously grandiose this place is — even for Royal Elite’s level. Jeez. There are even butlers serving drunk teenagers more drinks than they need.

I mean, I come from money. Scratch that. Dad is rich, I’m not. However, this is on a whole different level. Even for me.

When Dan said it’s party night — right before the bugger sneaked off — I thought we’ll crash in one of the popular ‘royals’ houses.

We’ll drink their rich liquor, try to pretend that we belong to the same school that has the future prime minister and parliament members in the making and then piss off to nurse a hangover.

Dan forgot to mention a tiny detail about the location of the party.

It’s in the middle of freaking nowhere.

I stopped following the twists and turns Dan took with his car the moment we were out of London and no road signs came into view.

For a moment, I thought Dan was taking us to some gypsy party.

Well, this sure as hell isn’t a gypsy party.

The mansion is hidden behind tall pine trees on top of a hill — no kidding. The owner is either way too private or way too gothic.

Or both.

Aside from the attendees’ cars, there’s nothing in sight. Now that I think about it, this is the perfect opportunity to mass murder everyone.

I can totally see this as the opening scene of a horror film.

You need to stop watching all those gory films. I can almost hear Dad scold in my mind. Oh, right. He’s not Dad. He’s Father.

That should summarise my relationship with Lord Clifford.

He might or might not kill me for coming to this party without his permission.

One more reason why I followed Dan’s demonic plots.

I sip from my second drink. I had one shot with Dan as soon as we arrived and now, I’m walking around with this cocktail. There’s barely a burn at the end, but I have a high tolerance, so this is nothing.

I need a distraction from all the scene around me. I can’t believe Dan buggered off — probably to go shag. Worst wingman ever.

The entire school is gathered here. Some sway to the loud, off-beat music. Outside, a few of the rugby team cannonball into the kidney-shaped pool — that has piss in it. Others howl as they play a drinking competition. I wish I had the guts to participate.

But then again, nothing is worth jeopardising my position in the school. I’m part of the invisible folk. You know the type. Those whom no one actually cares if they miss a class or two — or an entire year. And I’d like to remain that way, thank you very much.

Invisibility is a cool superpower that allows me to breeze through without any bullshit or drama.

I should’ve probably chosen a lesser noticeable best friend than Dan. To my defence, when I found out Daniel’s popularity, he’d already pasted himself as my wingman with super glue.

Even with his popularity, I’m still invisible enough that his harem of girls don’t notice me when they’re hitting on him.

Extra Royal Elite’s students are still wearing their pristine uniforms with red ties and navy blue jackets. On their pockets, the school’s golden logo is engraved. The lion in a shield, topped by a crown is a sign of both the power and corruption simmering in the walls of the school.

There’s a reason why uniform-people are alone in a circle, probably discussing books. I would join, but I doubt they’d like it when I tell them that they’re not supposed to wear a uniform to a party.

Even I, a total ‘party terrorist’ — per Dan’s words — have opted for jean shorts, fishnet stockings and a simple blacktop. Oh, I also wore my favourite, white basketball trainers that Mum painted black stars on.

My heart shrinks at the thought. I take a deep breath of the alcohol and the designer perfumes permeating the air.

Fun. This is supposed to be a night of fun.

My idea of fun includes either my art studio or marathoning the latest gory film.

Just saying.

A long howl at the entrance wrenches me back to the present.

The chatter weans and the crowd parts like the red sea did for Moses.

When the kids trip over each other to make way, I’m not surprised when the football team waltzes in like freaking England’s champions. Only, wait. I think they did win a game that would lead them to some sort of a school championship today.

This could or could not be the celebration party for their win.

Another tiny detail that Dan forgot to mention.

I’m not going to kill my best friend.

I’m not going to kill my best friend.

Screw it.

I retrieve my phone and type.

Astrid: You’re dead, Dan. Better start picking your funeral song.

Daniel: Resistance by Muse. u know that. What got ur knickers in a twist?

Astrid: Football party? Give me a fucking break. I’d rather choke on my own vomit.

Daniel: First, ew. Second, did I mention ew? Third, stop being a drama queen, crazy bugger.

Astrid: Where are u?

Daniel: Convincing Laura Davis to suck my dick. Heard she deep-throats like a pro.

Astrid: You’re a pig *disgusted emoji*

Daniel: What? It’s on my list of things to do while I’m still in high school.

Astrid: I’m beginning to think that ur list only has sex missions on it.

Daniel: there’s nothing better than fucking.

Astrid: I’d rather watch gore.

Daniel: Astrid, I love u, but u’re weird.

Daniel: Gotta go, Laura is giving me the look.

Great. I’m really on my own while Dan is banging his random girl for the night.

My head becomes fuzzy, not sure if it’s because of the drink or something else. Even the football team who are fist-bumping the eager crowd and grabbing a random butt here and there become hazy.

All I keep hearing is the multiple shouting of “King!”

There are two of those at Royal Elite School — or RES. According to Dad — sorry, Father — I’m to stay away from anything with the King’s last name.

When I became Lord Henry Clifford’s ‘public’ daughter, he had two rules for me:

You will not disgrace the Clifford surname.

You will stay away from the King surname.

I usually wouldn’t listen, but the two kings of the school represent everything I loathe.

Unrestrained power.

Reckless behaviour.

Corrupted wealth.

They’re probably the ones who own this ridiculously, wealthy mansion. Old money is everything in RES and the King name is the definition of it. Even Dad’s old money and aristocratic blood don’t compare to theirs.

I don’t wait for the team’s grand entrance.

Invisibility 101: Never mingle with the popular crowd.

I make a beeline towards the back hallways of the mansion, but the cheers and the ‘Go Elite’ follow me all the way through.

The obsession with the football team in this school makes me twitchy. I mean, come on, they’re school kids, not the freaking Premier League titans.

But again, sports were never my thing. I’m all for art and creativity. I’m a far cry from being an athlete and Dan always makes fun of how even a small run makes me all breathy and panting.

The more I walk down the half-empty hallway, the more my skin heats. Something fuzzy and disorienting takes over my head. The couple making out near a door become double.

I sway and bump into something.

“Watch it!” Someone grunts and I mumble something in return.

Shit. I don’t feel good.

I reach for my phone to call Dan. The numbers become blurry, wavy lines. I blink and fall against a wall.

I hit Dan’s number and the rings sound like they’re from an underground room. He doesn’t pick up.

Come on, Dan.

I try again, but the more time passes, the hotter my skin becomes. My clothes feel like pieces of lava on my flesh.

I hit Dan’s number on my phone again. He still doesn’t pick up.

I remember that we agreed to meet at the car park so I opt to wash my face and head out there.

My hand sakes while I clutch the phone and make my way down the hall, searching for the washroom. There’s something else Dan mentioned about tonight’s party that somehow flashes into my fuzzy head.

Don’t go into the pool house. It’s restricted access.

I don’t know why I’m thinking about that now. Couples are on either side of the wall, making out and whatnot. Surely, if this was a forbidden area, they wouldn’t be here.

I push the first door to my right and stop. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and unmistakable moans make me slam it shut immediately.

I try the next and the next, but they’re all either locked up or occupied.

And I might have pissed off a few couples.

My clothes stick to my heated skin and my legs become wobbly and weak. A summer vibe song blurts from the speakers and buzzes through my ears.

A rush of energy wobbles through me and a weird urge to dance takes hold of me.

After what seems like a trip down the similar halls, I spot one of the football team’s players follow a girl out of an isolated room.

Thank God.

I run towards it as fast as my legs allow.

As soon as I’m inside, I head to the door on the right and almost cry with joy when it turns out to be a bathroom.

The automatic faucet opens, and I splash water on my face over and over, but there’s no extinguishing the fire on my skin.

I know something is wrong with me, I just don’t know what. Could it be the pizza I had with Dan on the way over?

All I know is that I need to go home. Now.

With one last splash of water, I trudge back to the bathroom’s door.

I should’ve heard the male voices. I should’ve hidden in the bathroom for a bit more.

Hell, I should’ve never went into ‘the room’ in the first place.

The moment I open the door, pale blue eyes peer into my soul.

King.

The same king I was warned to stay away from. He’s watching me with a smirk and a glint in his eyes as if he found his next prey.

“Looks like a little lamb lost her way.”