AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re trying to protect me by pretending I don’t exist?” says Gia, finally whirling around to face her again, though her grip on me doesn’t loosen. “Even in your world, Maisie, that makes no sense.”
“Yes, it does,” she says, wiping her eyes as Rosie loops her arm around her. But Maisie slips away, walking toward Gia instead, and Rosie sinks dejectedly onto the sofa. “If they find out about you, they’ll hunt you like you’re prey. They’ll stalk you. They’ll dredge up every slightly scandalous thing about you and your family, and they’ll turn it all into headlines—”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” says Gia incredulously. “Do you think I’ve spent the past three years keeping my head down and my nose clean because I like being invisible? I’ve turned down modeling jobs, parties, friendships, business partnerships—Maisie, I don’t even have a bloody Instagram account because I know what it could mean for you. Everything I do is to make sure that when we go public, when you finally pull your head out of your arse and stop feeling so bloody ashamed of something that isn’t the least bit shameful at all, the press will have nothing on me. Nothing.”
Gia’s in tears now, too, and the two of them stand only a few feet apart, but it might as well be a mile. Maisie’s hugging herself even though her left wrist is wrapped in a bandage, and her pale face is splotchy, her lips parted in disbelief.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says brittlely. “They’ll find something anyway, or they’ll make it all up. Or—or they’ll go after you because you’re Black, or because your mother’s Kenyan, or because you’re stunningly beautiful and people will always be jealous of you—”
“I don’t care,” says Gia. “Don’t you see? I don’t care about any of that as long as I have you. I know the risks. I’ve seen what you and your family have to go through, I’ve seen how the press tortures you all, and I know what I’m getting into, Maisie. And it’s worth it—every last bit of it—as long as it means getting to be by your side.”
I try to ease my arm out of her grip, painfully aware that this should be a private conversation, but Gia’s fingers tighten around me, and I still.
“I want you by my side more than anything,” says my sister tearfully. “But I have a duty to my country and the crown—”
“Sod the bloody crown,” spits Gia. “I didn’t fall in love with a tiara. I fell in love with you. What’s it all worth if you’re not allowed to be happy?”
Maisie’s lips are white, and she’s shaking again. “You know I don’t have a choice. I’m the only person who can stop Ben from inheriting the throne, and if the public turns on me—”
“There’s no bloody reason you can’t have both me and everything you’ve spent your life working toward,” says Gia, and there’s a hint of desperation in her voice now. “All you have to do is take a chance, Maisie. All you have to do is trust that it’ll all work out, and it will. I’m not saying it’ll be perfect, and I’m not saying that it’ll be a fairy tale every step of the way, but whatever the world throws at us, we can face it together. Doesn’t that sound better than a lifetime of lies and misery with Mr. America and those hideous roses?”
Maisie wipes her eyes with her uninjured hand. “I want that more than anything in the world,” she manages. “But the press will destroy you—”
At last Gia drops my wrist, and she moves toward Maisie, towering over her even without her heels. “Let them try,” she says in a dangerous voice. “It’s worth it to me—every last risk, every last consequence. I know what I want, and it’s you. But you’re the one who needs to decide what you want.”
“I want a life with you,” she says in a tiny voice. “You know I do. But it’s not that simple—it’ll never be that simple.”
“Of course it won’t be,” says Gia. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth fighting for.”
“I—of course, but—” begins Maisie, but Gia shakes her head and takes a step back, seeming to lose her last thread of patience.
“I don’t care what you are or who you’re going to be,” she says, her tone ripe with heartbreak and disgust. “If you keep playing these games, one day, you’ll finally look up, and you’ll realize you’ve lost me for good.”
Without another word, Gia slips past me and Kit and out the door, disappearing down the corridor as Maisie breaks down into gut-wrenching sobs.
CHAPTER TWENTY
We at the Regal Record can exclusively report that Princess Mary is under the care of the royal physician after a barrier broke outside Royal London Children’s Hospital shortly after noon, causing a crowd surge that swarmed the heir to the throne.
The frightening incident was caught live by BBC World News, with footage showing Her Royal Highness and Evangeline Bright being ushered to safety after greeting fans outside the hospital, where they had spent the morning supporting the Children’s Trust. Even though the event was thought to be cancelled, the crowd that gathered to meet the royal sisters was reported to be in the hundreds—not exactly surprising, considering the bombshell photos that were posted by the Daily Sun exposing the affair between Queen Helene and Prince Nicholas. One must wonder why His Majesty, in all his wisdom, sent his daughters out into the chaos like lambs to the slaughter, particularly when their security was clearly unprepared to handle the size and scope of the crowd.
While Evangeline is reportedly unharmed, Her Royal Highness was swept up in the surge, causing significant bruising and a sprained wrist. Royal insiders have revealed that Mary is resting comfortably at Windsor Castle, and we wish our brave little princess a speedy recovery.
—The Regal Record, 10 January 2024
MAISIE IS INCONSOLABLE.
I try for a while, but there’s nothing I can say—nothing anyone except Gia can say—that will offer her any comfort. She sobs until she has no tears left, and Rosie, Kit, and I spend the rest of the day with her in her suite, alternating between listening to her rant, assuring her that she’s not a terrible person, and discreetly picking up the trail of used tissues in her wake.
Rosie leaves after dinner, and Maisie ends up falling asleep with her head in my lap in the middle of some insipid vampire movie, but I don’t have the heart to wake her. Instead, Kit drapes a pair of blankets over us, and even though I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, I lean my head against the back of the sofa, close my eyes, and do my best to convince myself that no one will try to kill any of us in the morning.
I don’t remember my dreams that night, but when I jolt awake shortly before sunrise, I have the vague sense of having just escaped something terrible. It takes me a moment to realize where I am, and I glance around the darkness as I try to calm my racing heart. Maisie has migrated from the sofa to the nest of pillows Kit’s created in the middle of her sitting room, and they’re lying with their feet inches from the other’s face, in a way that feels so casually familiar that I’m sure this isn’t the first family sleepover they—and likely Ben—have had.
Tap tap tap.
“Your Royal Highness?”
To my surprise, it isn’t a member of the household staff or even Fitz who cracks open Maisie’s door. Instead, as warm lamplight filters into the sitting room, I see Tibby standing in the doorway, hovering like she isn’t sure whether she’s allowed inside.
