Page 97 of Throne Off Course

Social media exploded with engagement. Celebrities, activists, even politicians began weighing in, some carefully skirting the line of criticizing the monarchy, others outright demanding that Alexander be allowed the same freedoms as any other man in his country.

Meanwhile, whispers from inside the palace suggested tensions were running high. An unnamed royal aide resigned abruptly. A government official dodged a pointed question in an interview, his non-answer making headlines of its own.

The more the conversation developed, the more it exposed the transactional nature of it all—the alliances, the power plays, the sheer lack of personal agency. The public started asking questions. It was all substantial enough that the palace couldn’t issue a direct response without making things worse, but resonant enough that it couldn’t be ignored.

And Harper? She was just getting started.

* **

If there was one thing Sebastian Hawthorne excelled at, it was getting people to talk.

Not just talk—whisper, speculate, doubt. And tonight, that was exactly what he intended to do.

The engine of the vintage Porsche still ticked with heat as he handed off the keys with a knowing grin, strolling into Lord Ashford’s estate with the kind of easy, effortless grace that masked precise calculation.

Not his car, of course, but one of Lord Hawthorne’s prized possessions. He had no particular attachment to it—just the satisfaction of knowing his father would be furious when he noticed. Though he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed pushing the car to its limits on the drive over.

If Lord Hawthorne could upend his life on a whim, then Sebastian figured he might as well enjoy the benefits of being a Hawthorne while he still could.

This particular gathering—an invitation-only salon for aristocrats and high-ranking politicians—was the kind of place where real power wasn’t displayed, but negotiated.

And tonight, Sebastian wasn’t here to play games. He was here to win them.

He drifted through the gilded halls, whiskey swirling in his glass, seamlessly inserting himself into conversation like a man who belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Lord Montclair, an older statesman with close ties to the Queen, was already lamenting the “modern distractions” plaguing the monarchy.

“Back in my day, royals didn’t parade about in duels and draw this kind of attention,” Montclair mused, shaking his head.

Sebastian took a slow sip of whiskey, his smile edged withsomething sharper.

“Ah, yes. Because boring monarchs inspire such loyalty.”

Montclair turned, frowning. “What exactly are you implying, Hawthorne?”

Sebastian let the silence stretch, just enough to make them lean in.

“That maybe it’s time we start thinking about the monarchy as it is, rather than as it was in your day.” He lowered his voice slightly, a trick he’d learned long ago—people listened more carefully when voices dropped to near whispers.

“Public sentiment is shifting. People are asking questions.” His gaze flicked over the gathered men, reading them like a well-worn novel. “And do you know what happens when people start questioning an institution?”

He let the pause settle, let them fill in the blanks themselves.

“They start wondering if it’s necessary at all.”

A murmur of unease rippled through the group. Doubt.

Sebastian watched it take root in their eyes.

Those who looked the most troubled? They were his next targets. For every aristocrat who wavered, three more would follow. Dominoes, all lined up and ready to fall.

Scanning the room, Sebastian spotted Lavinia and Allegra by the champagne fountain, heads bent in hushed conversation. He excused himself from Montclair’s circle and made his way toward them, a slow, calculated smile already forming.

“Ladies,” he greeted, kissing each on the cheek. “Holding court as always, I see.”

Lavinia, resplendent in deep sapphire silk, arched a brow. “Sebastian. We were just discussing your prince’s latest… indiscretions.”

Allegra sipped her champagne, eyes gleaming with interest. “So tragic, really. All that romantic tension. And yet…”