Page 4 of Throne Off Course

Genevieve, ever the diplomat, smiled graciously. “We’ll have to see what the future holds.”

Alexander sipped his champagne to keep from reacting. His mother’s gaze cut to him, a silent reminder, a command without needing words. This was his duty: to propose, to secure the future of the monarchy, to marry a woman who, while beautiful, made him feel absolutely nothing.

He had never questioned it before.

But tonight, standing in a gilded ballroom, watching historyrepeat itself in the faces of every arranged couple in attendance… Once again, he wondered: Is this it?

Another speech. Another round of applause. Another obligation.

The evening blurred into a choreographed nightmare of expected smiles, practiced responses, and careful positioning. Alexander barely spoke. Not that anyone seemed to notice. Or rather, they expected it. He was the dutiful prince. The future king who would do as he was told.

But as the night wore on, as Genevieve laughed politely at something dull Lord Ashford had said, as his mother whispered in hushed tones with foreign ministers, Alexander felt it, the walls closing in, the suffocating certainty that his life was nothing but a series of decisions that were already made for him.

“I see that look.”

Alexander glanced to his side at Lord Sebastian Hawthorne, Viscount of Edgecliffe, who stood looking far too pleased with himself. While Alexander carried himself with regal bearing, his blue eyes ever watchful, Sebastian was the embodiment of a bored aristocrat, all loose limbs and relaxed posture, radiating warmth and easy charm without effort.

“What look?” Alexander muttered.

Sebastian took a slow sip of his drink, brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “The ‘I would rather be disemboweled by a decorative letter opener than spend one more minute pretending to enjoy myself’ look.”

Alexander exhaled sharply, half a laugh, half a sigh. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

Sebastian tilted his head, surveying the room. “You know,” he mused, “if you were a lesser man, I’d say you should stage ascandal right now. Give the gossip columnists something to work with. Maybe grab a microphone, declare your undying love for Lord Ashford’s prized greyhound, announce an elopement. You know, really go all in.”

Alexander shot him a look.

Sebastian ignored it. “Or, hear me out, you could just challenge someone to a duel. Classic, dramatic, very on brand for a tragic royal. I’ll even volunteer. We can fake a fatal wound, you flee to the countryside, I get a week off to recover from my ‘injuries,’ and we both win.”

Alexander huffed a quiet laugh despite himself. “And people say you’re a terrible influence.”

Sebastian grinned. “I am a terrible influence. But look at you, still standing here, silently drowning in existential dread, instead of having any actual fun. A waste, really.”

Alexander shook his head, but Sebastian wasn’t wrong. This wasn’t living, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be the prince who followed every rule.

Genevieve had no intention of eavesdropping. Truly, she didn’t, but when Lord Sebastian Hawthorne was involved, it was difficult not to overhear some kind of scandalous nonsense.

And this time was no exception. She had just finished a polite conversation with a foreign diplomat when she caught the tail end of his latest ridiculous suggestion.

“…I’m just saying, if you fake a duel and disappear for a year, it would make an excellent chapter in your inevitable biography,” Sebastian was saying, far too pleased with himself.

Alexander sighed in exasperation but Genevieve noted with annoyance, he wasn’t entirely dismissing him. Typical.

“You really should stop encouraging him,” Genevieve said, stepping into view, her tone smooth but edged with disapproval.

Sebastian turned, flashing her a bright, wolfish grin. “Genevieve,” he said. “What a lovely surprise. Tell me, were you also contemplating an elaborate royal scandal, or are you still pretending to be a responsible adult?”

Genevieve arched a perfectly groomed brow. “I don’t have to pretend,” she said coolly.

Sebastian pressed a mock hand to his heart. “Tragic. I suppose that’s why you find me so entertaining, you get to live vicariously through my reckless choices.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I often dream of being a cautionary tale in the tabloids.”

Sebastian beamed. “You see? We have so much in common.”

Genevieve inhaled slowly, as if summoning the patience of a saint. Then, she turned to Alexander. “You let him get away with too much.”