The Reluctant Duchess Ch. 01

"So?" Sophie responded, anger rising in her chest.

"So, you need to make sure that you are respected before you can think about changing anything. They need to continue to show respect for your position, until you are certain that they respect you."

Sophie found herself, reluctantly, understanding her mother's points. But she vowed to cut back on all of the archaic stuff as soon as she could—assuming, of course, that she wasn't able to figure out a way to get out of this mess.

*

Sophie spent the next two days doing basically whatever her mother told her to do—it seemed like the path of least resistance. There were fittings, which ultimately she enjoyed, and briefings, which were dull, for the most part. Admittedly, during the Treasury briefings, she mostly thought about what she would do with Frederic Stolz if she ever got to be alone with him. She even made some decisions, in accordance with her advisors' advice, and signed some documents.

And then there was the funeral. It was long and solemn, and when she saw the coffins of her father and brothers placed into the ground, it hit Sophie hard. She hugged her sister-in-law Caroline, who was bawling uncontrollably, all the while realizing that they would probably never see each other again. Caroline had been poised to become a Grand Duchess, and she wanted the role, beside Josef, and now she had no husband and no role in Klippenberg. There was, clearly, no reason for her to remain in the country.

The last to leave was the Prime Minister, Count Markel, a kind man who had been Sophie's father's best friend since childhood, and had become his most trusted advisor as an adult. He approached Sophie and asked to speak with her privately. The dignified, gray haired man looked anguished, and he and Sophie walked slowly to a small parlor off the great hallway.

"Großherzogin," he began, in a quiet voice.

"Please, Count Markel, call me Sophie, at least in private."

The older man nodded. "Then you must call me Matthias." Sophie nodded in return. "Sophie, you know that I loved your father like a brother."

"Yes, Matthias, that has always been clear. And he felt the same about you."

"That is kind. You know that I never had children of my own."

Sophie never considered that fact, but realized admitting it would show her selfishness, so she simply nodded.

"Your brothers and you were the closest thing to children I had, and I know that your father would expect me to look after you, to help you."

"Thank you, Matthias, I'm going to need so much help. I'm not sure I'm up for this."

The Count slowly shook his head. "Sophie, you've been like this all of your life. Always putting yourself down, never having faith in your own abilities."

"But my father, my brothers, they were brilliant."

"And when you were young, you were your brothers' equal. I remember you, as a child, showing off your reading skills, even your language skills, and your drawings—much better than the average child. But gradually, you lost that spark, that drive that they had to excel. I don't know why, but you began to doubt yourself. You began to coast, and rely on your considerable charm and beauty, and your innate intelligence, but you never really challenged yourself."

Sophie looked at Count Markel without speaking.

"I hope, Sophie, that I haven't overstepped here. What I wanted to say, and sadly I have done it clumsily, is to tell you that I believe that if you put your mind to it, there is no reason why you cannot be a great Grand Duchess, even greater than your brother. And I'm not the only one who thinks this."

"But Matthias, I'm not sure that I even want to do this. I'm not sure if I want the responsibility."

"Then, you will fail, and disappoint everyone."

Sophie felt like she had been slapped in the face. But rather than get angry, she became sad, and felt tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't want to disappoint, but I'm so worried that I'm in over my head."

He handed Sophie his handkerchief, and she dabbed at her eyes, smudging her makeup. "You are sabotaging yourself again, my dear. You can do this. And you need to trust your government and staff. We are good people. Do you think that your father made every decision? Did every job? No. He appointed good people, and Klippenberg elected good people, and our government and country functioned well. I never let Franz down, from our days in the playground to now. And I will not let you down. I swear that on my life, and the memory of your father and brothers."

With that, he stood, bowed slightly, and walked out the door without waiting for a reaction.

After that discussion, both depressing and encouraging at the same time, Sophie sat alone, trying to think. She needed a drink or many, some dancing, and a hot man. She walked across the room and pressed the bell that summoned Johanna. It didn't take long for her to arrive. Sophie could see the sadness on her old friend's face, and she realized that Johanna, in some ways even more than she, had grown up in the palace. Johanna had likely spent more time with her father, and certainly her brothers, than Sophie had over the past few years.

The women hugged, sharing their grief. Breaking the connection, Sophie said, "Jo, I need to get out of here. I need to drink, to laugh, to dance, to feel the touch of a man, or I'm going to go crazy. Where can we go?"

Johanna thought before speaking. Although she had some doubt as to whether it was a good idea, Sophie was her Grand Duchess, and she was trained to obey her requests. "I can round up a few friends, some of whom you may remember, and we can head into town. There's a new place, mostly for tourists, but not bad, so probably not a lot of locals to recognize you. But I'm going to have to get you a wig or something. So many people know you, and your picture is everywhere."

"Please, do it."

Johanna nodded.

"Jo?"

"What, Sophie?"

"Do you know Frederic Stolz?"

Johanna began to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"It didn't take you long to find the hottest man in all of Klippenberg."

"Actually, I'd like him to be inside this particular Klippenberg."

Johanna tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a laugh. "Sorry, Sophie, he's taken. Do you remember my older sister Julia?"

Sophie nodded.

"Her best friend, Maria, and Frederic have been engaged for about a year."

"Damn."

"That's what every woman in the country said when the engagement was announced."

"How come I never saw him before?"

"His father was posted in Berlin for many years as a trade representative, and Frederic grew up there. He only returned recently to join the ministry. And date Maria."

"OK. So much for that fantasy. Please make the arrangements, and come and get me when it's time."

"As you wish, Your Highness," Johanna said in an overly obsequious tone, and after an exaggerated curtsey, left the room.

Sophie lay down on her bed and rested, hoping that the night would be fun, and that her mother wouldn't find out.

*

Johanna, dressed for a night out in a tight black dress, led the way into the shiny nightclub, holding the hand of a handsome man she introduced as Albert, a chef at a popular restaurant in town who she had been dating for more than a year. Also in their group were Lina, a plain girl with her equally plain boyfriend, Max, and another man, who Sophie assumed was brought to be her date, Paul. Johanna had pretty good taste, Sophie thought, because Paul was tall, muscular and had beautiful blonde hair. He was, Johanna told her, a student at university in Munich, but came home to attend the funeral, as many Klippenburghers living outside the country had done out of respect for her father and brothers. Sophie vaguely remembered having met Lina and Max years ago.

As Sophie expected, the club was loud, reasonably crowded, and filled with flashing lights and pounding music that was perfect to dance to and to lose oneself in. She handed Johanna a handful of bills and yelled over the din to "get some bottles of good stuff—I think it is safer if I stay away from the bar." Johanna nodded, handed the money to Albert, whispered in his ear, kissed his cheek, and led the rest of the group to a slightly secluded table. Sophie saw her reflection in the mirrored wall, and didn't recognize the tired looking brunette who looked back at her.

Johanna had instructed everyone to call Sophie "Anna" and to make no indication whatsoever of the true identity of their companion. And after a couple of drinks, it didn't seem all that difficult. The couples took turns dancing and holding their table, and the alcohol, the music, and dancing with Paul almost let her forget her present situation. Paul, for his part, was respectful, seemed clever, to the extent that they could speak over the music, and was a better than fair dancer. She insisted that Paul hold her close during some of the dancing, and she was pleased to feel his arousal, which sparked her own.

"Come with me," she said, taking Paul's hand and leading him toward the women's bathroom, where she figured that she could have a quick fuck. As the approached, though, Paul held back.

"Where are you taking me, uh, Anna?"

"In there—we can probably have some privacy in a stall."

She watched as the light came on in his pale blue eyes.

"I can't."

"Why not? It certainly felt like you could."

He gestured to Sophie, motioning to a slightly more private area, away from the bathroom doors, and when they got there, he leaned in to her ear, so that she could hear him clearly. "Look, you're a beautiful woman, and I'm honored that you want to be with me, but I can't. I know who you are, and I don't think it is right to have sex with the Grand Duchess in a nightclub bathroom. I was not raised that way. I'd be happy, though, to take you out for dinner some other evening, so we could get to know each other."

Sophie's head slumped. This was exactly the opposite of what she wanted—what she needed. Her disappointment turned to anger. "Fuck off, Paul. You'll live to regret this day. Leave me." Her command voice was still working, despite the wig and the drinks, and Paul slunk away.

Sophie, for her part, was now energized by the adrenaline rush of telling Paul off, and she returned, alone, to the dance floor, to find someone who didn't know who she was, and didn't have Paul's inconvenient morality.

Paul returned to the table, poured himself some of the expensive vodka that Albert had bought with "Anna's" money, and watched Lina and Max make out for a few minutes, which did nothing for his state of mind. When they came up for air, Paul asked, "Where's Jo?"

"Dancing," Lina responded, motioning with her chin toward the dance floor. He turned to see her and Albert dancing and groping each other in a crowd of others doing basically the same. Eventually, the couple returned to their table to refuel.

Johanna looked around frantically, when she didn't see Sophie. "Where the fuck is Anna?" she yelled so that her friends could hear.

No one responded for a few seconds before Paul shrugged and said, "She wanted to take me into the ladies room to fuck, and I just couldn't, because, you know, because she's, uh, her."

Albert and Max nodded. Neither of them could imagine having sex with their Grand Duchess either, even if they weren't already in relationships. Johanna, on the other hand, had a bad feeling.

"Lina—please come with me. Now."

The two women walked as quickly as possible toward the ladies room, and pushed their way inside. The bathroom was filled with women fixing their makeup, waiting for the toilet, and one was snorting coke while staring at her clearly enhanced cleavage in the mirror. Johanna started walking down the line of stalls, yelling, "Anna" at the top of her lungs, but there was no response. In the last stall, though, she could hear the unmistakable sound of two people having sex. She mentally crossed her fingers and started banging on the door. "Anna, come out now."

The door popped open, and she was treated to the sight of a man's bare ass, and as he turned, his cock hard, he yelled—"Who the fuck are you?"

Johanna looked past the half-naked man, to see Sophie, hands against the wall, ass protruding. She turned and started screaming at Jo. "Leave me alone, now. Go away."

But Johanna knew that she couldn't. She could not risk the potential embarrassment if word got out that Sophie was fucking some stranger in a nightclub bathroom. Even if it meant that she would lose Sophie's friendship, and even her job in the palace. So, she grabbed Sophie's arm and pulled her out of the stall. The man, too surprised, and probably too drunk to react quick enough, let them go by before he pulled his pants up and tried to leave the bathroom.

Sophie seethed as Johanna, who was stronger than she looked, pulled her through the crowd and out of the bathroom. She adjusted her dress and looked at Johanna, shooting daggers with her eyes. When Sophie felt Johanna's iron grasp on her arm relax, she yanked herself free and ran through the club, smashing into dancers and hearing them curse her in many languages. Grabbing a taxi, Sophie used an old trick from her teenage years, giving an address close enough to the palace to walk through an open spot in the fencing. Paying the driver, she waited until he drove away before heading to the palace, and the place where she could sneak in unobserved, a trick she used many times in her youth. Successful in her mission, at least this time, she made it to her chambers, cleaned up and fell into bed. She was angry, she was drunk and she was unsatisfied, and that was not a good combination.