Page 21 of Wicked Queen

“You don’t know that.” He couldn’t. No one could. Not even me. “If Alexander makes me leave. If the baby…” I couldn’t even say the words. My eyes found the floor, unable to look at him. How would I face it if the baby’s heart couldn’t be fixed?

“I do know.” Edward dropped to the floor in front of me, his hand lifting my chin so I couldn’t avoid him. “That won’t ever happen to you because I won’t let it. Belle won’t let it. No matter what happens, we will be here.”

They wouldn’t let me fade away. They wouldn’t let my heart turn as black and hopeless as Albert’s had. I had best friends and they would be here to love me through it.

“You have to be that for Alexander, too,” I said in a soft voice.

“I don’t know if I can,” he said with a sigh.

“Yes, you can. He’s your brother and we can’t let him become…” I couldn’t even say it. What would it take to turn Alexander into his father? Had he already?

“Then, we won’t,” Edward promised. He pushed to his feet and held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“But I still don’t know what to do with her room.” I let him help me since getting to my feet was becoming a bit more of a task these days.

“Leave it,” he said.

“But—”

“There are, what, a million rooms in this place?” He said. “You don’t want her on the same floor as you two. You’ll scar her with all the noise you two make.”

“Hey!” I smacked him on the shoulder.

“I speak only truth.” He held up his hand. “You two are like animals. It gives the rest of us inferiority complexes. Besides, I’ve been dying to burn down my grandmother’s suite for years.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll settle for redecorating it,” he reassured me. “It will give her space and piss Queen Mother Mary off.”

“So it’s a win-win?”

This time his answering smile was blinding. “Isn’t diplomacy fun?”

Chapter 10

Alexander

The new secretary was a nervous thing, scampering in and out of the offices like a lost mouse. Patience took effort, but since Norris recently told me off for scaring away household staff, I was doing my best. “Yes?”

“Your Majesty, it’s the Prime Minister.” She dipped into a curtsy, a habit she seemed to be forming.

“You don’t really have to do that every time…” I waved my hand, realizing it was a lost cause to tell her otherwise. “Take a message.”

“He’s quite insistent,” she continued, twisting her hands together as if torn between telling the Prime Minister no and questioning my authority.

“Take a message,” I repeated through a clenched jaw.

“He did say it’s the third time he’s tried to reach you —”

“Take a message!” I roared.

She scuttled out of the room, throwing terrified glances back at me.

“There goes another one,” Norris commented as he came inside and shut the door. “We’ve posted more job openings in the last two months than the last two years.”

“They don’t listen.” I settled back in my chair. Maybe it was something wrong with me. My staff didn’t listen. Parliament didn’t listen. My wife didn’t listen. I was the common denominator. “I have wondered if we need so many people working here.”

“You’ve been thinking,” Norris said. “That’s never a good thing.”