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“And what do I do about the crown?”
“Oh, come on, then. I told you.” His normally jovial grin turned a bit wicked. “I’m here for the crown, Leonidas.”
Wisps of suspicion curled into my thoughts like smoke as I looked at that phrase in a new light. He didn’t mean he was here to serve the crown.
Bishop meant he was here to steal the crown.
From me.
Everything had changed.
“It’s easy.” He laughed lightly. “You get the girl. I get to rule.” He shrugged. “Or, if you’d rather, I’ll take Michaela and you can have the throne. But you can’t have both. You know that, right?”
Bishop spoke as if it was the most logical conclusion, as though he was doing me a great service. But, in essence, he’d been lying in wait, watching for this very moment to line up before he pounced on the opportunity.
“Get out,” I whispered. I didn’t have the strength to yell. Not when I felt like he’d sucker punched me with his true intentions. “Get out now.”
“I’m doing you a favor, Leo.” He backed out of my room, both palms up as if I were arresting him. “You’ll see. Everything has been for your own good.”
I stared at the open doorway, long after he’d left.
I’d always thought my father had landed on a hard sort of luck, but, for the first time, I considered the alternative.
What if someone was poisoning him?
Someone who knew me and knew how difficult it would be for me to choose a wife with limited time. Someone who stood to gain the throne if I abdicated and moved out of the way.
I’d always assumed a playboy like Bishop planned to follow his father’s path, but what if that was all a ploy?
An act to cover up the hostile takeover he’d been planning all along.
Michaela
Much of the production related to Royally… Yours had become commonplace to me. The lighting, the decorations, the ice on the windows, even Corbin’s entrance and introductions paired with the theme song.
I felt strangely out of sorts as Fitz entered. He wore a smile, but I saw the conflict in his eyes. He hadn’t made his decision yet. It was the same look he had the first time we took him to the ice cream shop with thirty-one flavors. He’d ended up with eight scoops of random flavors in a waffle bowl, and I had to help him finish it.
I felt like the forgotten cotton candy ice cream in the far-right corner of the case. Cute enough to look at, but no one really wanted it and it didn’t actually fit with anything else.
I was probably the only decision he had made.
Blair took her place in the victor’s section, earned earlier in the week on her date. Then one by one, he called their names. One by one, he fastened a small platinum charm to their bracelets.
Chantal.
Esme.
Gwen.
Dagny.
Each name dashed any hopes that he’d changed his mind. Only two more charms remained. I blinked back my tears, not wanting to make a scene. Fitz wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead, I remained numb and disconnected from the whole ordeal. The lights, the drama, even Corbin’s rousing comments between selections, it all felt like I was watching from behind a glass wall. None of it belonged to me. It never had, but once more, I felt the sting of not belonging.
“Sadie, please step forward.” Fitz’s newest declaration broke through my thoughts.
Relief flooded her expression. For a second, she thought she was going home. She’d been rescued from that awful fate, and her excitement and gratitude showed in every step she took toward the prince.
I was happy for her. She would be good for him. And considering how things with Fitz had ended, I wouldn’t have to worry about maintaining my friendship with him. I would bow out without a sound, get on a plane, and be back home before the holidays. It would all become a memory of another life, something I replayed on lonely nights to assure myself I’d done something daring once upon a time.
