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“Are you okay?” Her blue eyes cut into me, stirring my soul with their intensity. “They pulled you out of there so fast, I—“
“Yes.” The incident was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “They did their duty, but in all honesty, I wish they would have allowed me to stay. Clearly, there are grievances and if I could have had a moment to…” I didn’t have the energy to finish. Rubbing a palm over my face, I tried to wipe away my exhaustion, but failed. Instead, I pulled my crown from my head, wishing it was just as easy to turn away from the responsibilities that loomed in my future. “Sometimes I feel like a stranger in my own country.”
Michaela took a step backward, but not to escape me. Rather, she meant to open the door wider as an invitation. And what an invitation it was. Crackling fire, food, the twinkling lights and holiday decorations I’d ordered to be installed in her quarters, and, of course, her kind heart always willing to listen.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
How badly I wished to say yes. But to the outside eye, I knew what it would look like, even if it wasn’t close to the truth.
“No, not tonight. I need sleep, as do you.” I felt my heart pulling to ignore all of that and take a few steps forward into her world. “But thank you.”
“Another time?”
“I look forward to it.” Would it be so bad to use the secret passage and double back tonight? Maybe she would surprise me and be waiting in my room when I returned. A prince could dream.
“Goodnight, Fitz.”
It’d been far too long since I’d heard those words spoken aloud. I echoed with the only possible response, surprised by the connection that pulled stronger by the second.
“Goodnight, Coco.”
Her door clicked shut and I turned to walk toward the west wing. A second later, another door clicked shut behind me. I hesitated a moment, concerned.
Was someone listening to our exchange?
Fitz
Istared at the ceiling. Sleep evaded me still. Regret wouldn’t leave me alone. Fumbling in the dark, I pulled my cell from the nightstand. The blinding light forced a squint, but I blinked twice, and the haze faded.
3:08 a.m.
I slumped back into my pillows. My mother had claimed this process would be like a fairytale, and all I’d found was a nightmare. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her coming at me, dagger up, hatred blazing in her eyes.
I wasn’t naïve enough to assume the monarchy was universally beloved, but I had never seen that level of malevolent fury. Within seconds, the room went up like a tinderbox. The scheme had been orchestrated from the start. I couldn’t even claim my instincts had saved me because three traitors emerged from the final contestants and joined those I hadn’t chosen.
Which begged the question, if Reika hadn’t chosen that moment to attack, would they have waited for the opportune moment? And, if that was true, what were the chances that we’d rid ourselves of all the conspirators? Someone could still be hiding. An intelligent spy would have seen the chance to fade into the background and blend in like a chameleon until an opportune moment presented itself.
And the risks didn’t stop there. I had power-hungry debutantes, possible anarchists, and an ex-girlfriend who saw nothing wrong with her past behavior.
Unable to sleep, I kicked off my blankets and set my feet to the chilled wood floor. Gwendolyn had once remarked that I lived in the Middle Ages, no central heating, electricity limited and still supplemented by candlelight, and high walls to keep out invaders. I’d never minded the lapse in modern conveniences though. At least not until I was wandering through my bedroom suite in the middle of the night after the fire had extinguished.
I yanked a blanket from the sitting area and wrapped it around my shoulders. My exchange with Chantal still rang fresh in my ears. Just the thought of her sent my stress level skyrocketing as my blood boiled. She saw nothing wrong with her behavior. Within her self-centered point of view, everything was as it should have been all along. While I had no record of her infidelity while we were together, I couldn’t shake the speed with which she picked up with the next conquest moments after she’d exited our relationship. That sort of timing took either a heart of stone, or prior schemes put into action early.
My teeth clenched together and ground down as I thought about her smug expression last night. She knew the cameras would zero in on our relationship and she thought that would mean I would have to play nice in public. What she didn’t know was I agreed to keep her if the producers cut the sound to our microphones while we talked. No one had to know what was said between us, or the warning I issued.
Temper flaring, I gripped the handles of the double doors that led to the balcony. A blast of frigid air gnawed at my skin, but with the way she made me burn, I was more than happy to feel the flames mingle with the icy chill.
“You’re not here because I want you here. You need to remember that, Chantal. I am keeping you because you are my mother’s choice, and I owe it to her to give this a chance. But understand that you are starting from below the bottom of the pile. You are the dirt beneath my feet that has been carried into the palace by accident.” My fists clenched and then released to expel some of the energy created by the memory. “If, for one second, I feel like you are making a mockery of this kingdom, the throne, any other participants, or me, I will not hesitate to have the guards sweep you up and carry you out like the rubbish you are. Is that understood?”
She had the nerve to smile and it echoed through my mind, even hours later. Through her perfect pearly teeth, she gave her answer with a small nod.
“Then, Lady Chantal, will you accept this charm, despite the fact that you are a treacherous snake who is intent on stealing the crown at any cost?”
It was the only time her face faltered, and I doubted anyone else saw it. Though her lips barely moved, I heard her words. “You’re wrong about me, Leonidas. We belong together. And I intend to prove it.” Shifting her volume, she gave the answer I assumed everyone else heard. “Yes, of course, Your Highness.”
I pushed the doors shut behind me and pulled the blanket tighter around my bare shoulders. The freezing air woke my senses and sharpened my thinking. Was this a mistake? Should I have stepped aside and allowed the Fitzborough line to end? Was there any point in maintaining the monarchy at all? Did I have a responsibility to dissolve it and create a better system in its place?
Once more I was struck by the weight of the responsibility that I hadn’t intended to face for at least another decade, if not more. And all of this had to be done while I watched my father, my king, slowly deteriorate. I stared over the capitol city, named after the country I loved with all my heart. Some lights glowed despite the hour. Many were rising for work. Fires needed to be stoked, homes needed tending, bakeries waited for the sweet treats of the season. I loved this time of year because, in addition to the normal warm white lights, lights of every color burned faintly at all hours. I liked to imagine my subjects and their festivities. The merriment, the moments of joy and connection. Within the palace walls, that wasn’t my normal, but I’d learned what I’d been missing when I spent time abroad.
