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“Even when you did, you weren’t there, Leo. You were always focused on matters at hand, and I tried to be supportive, I did, but you never listened when I warned you about burnout.”
I scoffed. “You? Warn me? Hardly, Chantal. Stop rewriting history.” My anger kindled to life again. “You can play nice for the cameras, but I know what you are. I know about the duke and the American celebrity. I know about the earl and even the Baron of Gildan. What a joke, that one! He had to be at least eighty, and there you were running around with him behind my back, making a fool of—”
“And what was I to do, Leonidas? Wait at the palace for you, or watch from the balcony, like a doll set on the shelf waiting for my turn?” Emotion gripped her, choking out her voice as though it had wrapped its hands around her neck and squashed the sound from her. She sucked in a shuddering sob but shook her head and wouldn’t look at me. “I can’t atone for the sins of my past, but I have been here for you from day one trying to show you that I’ve changed. If you can’t see that… If you’re not willing to—”
A sharp scream cut off Chantal’s pity-me monologue. I whirled, seeking out the sound, uncertain if it was one of the ladies of court or a child.
“She’s choking!” Esme screamed. “Help! Please, help!”
A small girl next to her clawed at her throat, face red in her struggle. My heart slammed against my chest as panic took hold. I opened my mouth to shout orders, but nothing came out. As if a nightmare held me captive, my dread and panic paralyzed me.
Hospital staff rushed around, but no one moved toward the girl. Weren’t they trained? Didn’t they know what to do in this situation? I frantically searched out Helen, the administrator, but only caught sight of the last of her as she sped from the room calling for a doctor.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t breathe.
I could only stare at the small child as Esme cried harder, helpless beside her.
From out of nowhere, arms wrapped around the small child. Her body lurched hard, once, twice, three times, and then a projectile shot from her mouth. She dragged in a deep rasping breath as the doctor sprinted around the corner with Helen on his heels. I inhaled with the small girl, assured that she was alive, albeit upset, but breathing. She spun to see her rescuer and I realized I hadn’t thought to look either.
Slowly, as if my whole system still lagged under the strain, I followed the young girl’s gaze up to Sadie’s face. She beamed at the child, obviously relieved that the Heimlich technique had worked.
Sadie had saved the small girl’s life.
She was a hero.
Michaela
I held still as the applause sounded around us.
The girl was breathing again. That was what mattered.
It would be petty to feel upset that Sadie had beat me to her.
Because all that mattered was that she was breathing again.
Still. Two feet.
That was all that stood between me and saving her myself.
Though it felt like a thousand years, only a matter of seconds had passed while she’d choked, not even a full minute. Emergencies had a way of slowing down time to an ant’s pace, and as everyone cheered for Sadie, I forced myself to clap too.
What kind of monster felt disappointed that they didn’t get a chance to save someone? What if I hadn’t remembered my training? What if my selfish desire to be in the spotlight had cost the girl her life?
No, this was good news and I needed to back off.
Fitz spoke with the little girl, smile broad and relieved. He set his crown on her head, and she giggled through the leftover tears that rolled down her cheeks. Of course, it wouldn’t stay, but he held it there, proclaiming her royalty for the day.
He was one in a million.
And currently, I was one in seven.
My heart clenched as he stared up at Sadie, lost in wonder and admiration.
“Lady Sadira, I didn’t see anyone else so much as take a step forward, and you wasted no time in acting. Your heart is so pure. I do hope you’ll be willing to accompany me tomorrow morning on an outing?”
He should have opened his eyes, because I was right beside Sadie, eager to help.
