The
Princely Papers
by
Mohanalakshmi
Rajakumar
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
Albie
Ringham is like most twentysomething men. He likes fast cars and
women who look good driving them. As the spare in the Ringham
dynasty, he parties in the best nightclubs around the world while his
sister Victoria prepares to take the throne one day. When fate
thursts the crown back onto Albie's head, three generations of
romance, hopes and frustrations come along with it. Can Albie fulfill
generations of his family's obligation to become the people's prince?
Or will he be lured away from duty by love when introduced to the
winsome Rachel?
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escalated at the thought that after all this, on the eve of his
sister’s engagement, her fiancé might be in peril. No she’s fine. No
tears. She’s fine. In searching for relief, flashes of the edges of
their mother’s coffin came into focus. Oppressive summer heat as they
walked behind her – behind her body – through the streets of London.
“We’re all fine,” Torie said in muted tones. The camera focused on her aquiline nose, her blue eyes glittering with something – not grief – an emotion he hadn’t seen before. “Your tie is crooked, Albie.”
“I’m in the middle of dinner,” Albert snapped. “Did you really use Mum’s code to correct my attire?”
“I didn’t,” she sighed. She swiveled, the camera sweeping across their mother’s desk, the one that they had climbed across as children. Newspapers littered the wide expanse.
Albert’s mirror image in the insert fidgeted with his bow tie in the circle in the lower right. “What is it, then? Stop frowning. You’re going to ruin that perfect forehead.”
“You’re going to send me to an early grave,” Torie said. She rubbed at her forehead, the lines still tight around her mouth. Their childhood ribbing hadn’t worked to ease the tension. “I’m not going to another event tonight.” His mind churned through the reasons she might have called. “I’m only back from America a few hours and –”
“About that.”
Albert halted in fidgeting with his tie. “I don’t know what they told you but I kept a low profile as you asked. No paparazzi, hats all the way, no one knew I was there.”
“No one besides the girls in your private party.” Torie paced across the room, scanning her camera across a set of glossy shots, spread across the coffee table. They showed a panorama of his suite in the Bellagio; several thousand pounds spent in alcohol and food. A few select party guests. Women. Blondes.
“Now just a minute. What I do in the suite stays in the suite.”
“Not when your guests share it with the world.” One week, the bags under his sister’s eyes accused. You couldn’t behave for one week?
Albert flopped into a brocade covered wingback as the camera steadied on an image of him. Edward wasn’t the only one regretting his week’s vacation. Torie would be furious. Her brother, nude, save for a pair of hands covering his nether region, kneeling on the bed. Head thrown back in mirth. No mistaking who it was. Flaming red hair and all.
“Everywhere,” Torie said in the crisp tones of their family. “Twitter. Facebook. Instagram. All the tabloids. Top of the ticker on the 24-hour cycle.”
“Cousin Torie!” Sophia’s twins burst into the room behind Torie. His sister scrambled to gather the photos. “Nanny,” Torie called, not quite a shout, ever the lady. “Someone please bring the nanny.”
“Cousin Bertie!” Andy’s chin filled the screen with Alice clamoring behind him.
“Listen, it’s easy enough to explain,” Albert said, waving to their cousin’s children. “A game of strip billiards. I mean, I lost. You know I’m crap at games.”
Torie flashed an image at him. Full length of Albert hugging a woman from behind, her also nude. Thankfully her long hair hid her face. “She’s not great at them either.” Not even a laugh.
A woman with a thick waist and heavy-soled shoes came in to take each of the protesting children out, holding their hands. “Come now, let’s see if we can find some biscuits.”
“Head home now,” Torie called from off screen. “We’re handling it.”
What inspired you to write this book?
I was in college when Princess Diana died in her fatal car crash. At the time I didn’t understand why my friend was so upset – she called me that morning and woke me up to tell me – but over the years I’ve come to understand what a complicated legacy she had and also what an amazing impact she had on so many different areas; fashion, charity, media, motherhood, etc.
The idea for this book was always a whim, something lurking in the back of my brain for years as a ‘fun’ project I might never get to. And then as I got caught up with my writing goals, Diana’s boys, as the princes are known, were getting older and making big choices, like getting married, etc. and the idea for the book came back.
The Princely Papers is more the story of a mother like Diana and two children, a girl, Victoria, and a boy, Albert, who inherit both their mother and father’s issues (and throne!). I hope readers will enjoy this imagining of what it’s like to a royal.
It would be really fun to see this made into a film or television series, like The Crown; I could see James McAvoy playing Albert and maybe Jessica Chastain as Victoria. Their mother would be much harder to cast…. Maybe Uma Thurman or someone with a theater background.
Amazon Uk
“We’re all fine,” Torie said in muted tones. The camera focused on her aquiline nose, her blue eyes glittering with something – not grief – an emotion he hadn’t seen before. “Your tie is crooked, Albie.”
“I’m in the middle of dinner,” Albert snapped. “Did you really use Mum’s code to correct my attire?”
“I didn’t,” she sighed. She swiveled, the camera sweeping across their mother’s desk, the one that they had climbed across as children. Newspapers littered the wide expanse.
Albert’s mirror image in the insert fidgeted with his bow tie in the circle in the lower right. “What is it, then? Stop frowning. You’re going to ruin that perfect forehead.”
“You’re going to send me to an early grave,” Torie said. She rubbed at her forehead, the lines still tight around her mouth. Their childhood ribbing hadn’t worked to ease the tension. “I’m not going to another event tonight.” His mind churned through the reasons she might have called. “I’m only back from America a few hours and –”
“About that.”
Albert halted in fidgeting with his tie. “I don’t know what they told you but I kept a low profile as you asked. No paparazzi, hats all the way, no one knew I was there.”
“No one besides the girls in your private party.” Torie paced across the room, scanning her camera across a set of glossy shots, spread across the coffee table. They showed a panorama of his suite in the Bellagio; several thousand pounds spent in alcohol and food. A few select party guests. Women. Blondes.
“Now just a minute. What I do in the suite stays in the suite.”
“Not when your guests share it with the world.” One week, the bags under his sister’s eyes accused. You couldn’t behave for one week?
Albert flopped into a brocade covered wingback as the camera steadied on an image of him. Edward wasn’t the only one regretting his week’s vacation. Torie would be furious. Her brother, nude, save for a pair of hands covering his nether region, kneeling on the bed. Head thrown back in mirth. No mistaking who it was. Flaming red hair and all.
“Everywhere,” Torie said in the crisp tones of their family. “Twitter. Facebook. Instagram. All the tabloids. Top of the ticker on the 24-hour cycle.”
“Cousin Torie!” Sophia’s twins burst into the room behind Torie. His sister scrambled to gather the photos. “Nanny,” Torie called, not quite a shout, ever the lady. “Someone please bring the nanny.”
“Cousin Bertie!” Andy’s chin filled the screen with Alice clamoring behind him.
“Listen, it’s easy enough to explain,” Albert said, waving to their cousin’s children. “A game of strip billiards. I mean, I lost. You know I’m crap at games.”
Torie flashed an image at him. Full length of Albert hugging a woman from behind, her also nude. Thankfully her long hair hid her face. “She’s not great at them either.” Not even a laugh.
A woman with a thick waist and heavy-soled shoes came in to take each of the protesting children out, holding their hands. “Come now, let’s see if we can find some biscuits.”
“Head home now,” Torie called from off screen. “We’re handling it.”
I was in college when Princess Diana died in her fatal car crash. At the time I didn’t understand why my friend was so upset – she called me that morning and woke me up to tell me – but over the years I’ve come to understand what a complicated legacy she had and also what an amazing impact she had on so many different areas; fashion, charity, media, motherhood, etc.
The idea for this book was always a whim, something lurking in the back of my brain for years as a ‘fun’ project I might never get to. And then as I got caught up with my writing goals, Diana’s boys, as the princes are known, were getting older and making big choices, like getting married, etc. and the idea for the book came back.
The Princely Papers is more the story of a mother like Diana and two children, a girl, Victoria, and a boy, Albert, who inherit both their mother and father’s issues (and throne!). I hope readers will enjoy this imagining of what it’s like to a royal.
It would be really fun to see this made into a film or television series, like The Crown; I could see James McAvoy playing Albert and maybe Jessica Chastain as Victoria. Their mother would be much harder to cast…. Maybe Uma Thurman or someone with a theater background.
Mohana
is a writer and scholar of gender, race, and writing. Her work has
appeared in academic journals and books. She is the award-winning
novelist of Love Comes
Later and An
Unlikely Goddess, among
others. As the host of the Expat Dilemmas podcast, she peppers each
show with reflections from a decade of living abroad. She teaches
courses on literature, argumentative and creative writing. You can
read more her website: www.mohadoha.com.
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