Page 82 of Wicked Queen

“Mixed company matters.” His eyes flickered to my companions, men he considered below our pedigree. “It would be wise to remember that. The House of Lords has no desire to see the monarchy abolished.”

“What a relief,” I said flatly.

“But we will not allow you to undermine our authority,” he continued, ignoring me. “The arrest of Oliver Jacobson without the knowledge and support of Parliament could not be tolerated.”

“The man killed your King,” Norris said, continuing before they could contradict him, “He may not have pulled the trigger but he was instrumental in loading the gun.”

Clark cleared his throat. “We would have been happy to take that stance had we been afforded consideration in his arrest.”

“Prime Minister, with due respect, allow the big boys to play,” May barked.

The Minister fell silent and I realized I’d been called to the Council of Ghosts. Judging from how Norris sat up sharply, he’d realized the same thing.

“Interesting,” I said. Lacing my fingers together, I tried to account for this turn of events. “So, tell me, and this will decide if we continue these conversations. Did you have my father killed? I assure you I would understand if you did. He could be a right bastard.”

“He could,” May agreed curtly, “but no. Albert shared our vision of Parliament’s role. We had no reason to be concerned over his reign.”

“Is that how you decide?” Despite myself, I felt a slight shiver as I asked.

“It’s a consideration,” May admitted.

“And as far as I’m concerned?” I asked.

“You’re young,” Byrd said sharply. “Youth can be forgiven. I imagine you understand this considering your difficulties with your sister. But understanding should never be mistaken for permission.”

“Noted.” I stood and buttoned my jacket. “Gentlemen, this has been enlightening.”

“We’ll be in touch,” May said simply.

I motioned for Norris and Smith to join me. As soon as we were past the doors, Smith spoke, “What was that about?”

“Not here,” I said through clenched teeth. I nodded in greeting to a number of men pausing to pay their regards.

When remained silent until we reached the Range Rover. As soon as we were inside, I turned to explain to Smith. “Have you ever heard of the Council of Ghosts?”

“Yeah, but I’ve also heard of the bogey-man,” he said with a shrug, “and I haven’t feared him since I was child.”

Norris watched us in the rear view mirror. “You just walked through a nightmare, son.”

“Does he call everyone ‘son?’” Smith asked, still nonplussed by this revelation.

That meant he didn’t understand what we’d just learned. “The Council of Ghosts is the kind of bedtime story you tell little aristocrats before you tuck them in so they mind their matters at the garden party. I never believed they were real.”

“Wait.” Smith swiveled to stare back at White’s. “Are you telling me…?”

“You just met the Kingmakers—that’s the part of the story they tell the children who sleep in the palace,” I said grimly. “A group of eight—obviously, Clark isn’t one of them—with the authority of a shadow Magna Carta of sorts. If the Council believes a king should be deposed, that’s the end of it.”

“And your father?” Smith asked quietly. “Do you believe them?”

I understood what he was really asking: had we just met the men pulling Jacobson’s puppet strings? I shook my head. “There was no threat to them from my father. He was a prick but he knew who to stay in with. Although, I doubt he knew who was on the Council.”

“Then why would they go to the trouble of meeting you?” Smith asked.

“It felt like they were trying to advise me in their own twisted way. God knows, Clark hasn’t done much for the relationship between the Crown and Parliament.” I tilted my head. “I actually expected you to be able to translate what they were saying.”

“It seemed simple enough to me. I don’t think they were arguing as to Jacobson’s role so much as pouting over not being brought into account, and that’s your problem.” Smith rubbed his jaw, caught in thought. “Your understanding of how Royal Prerogative works needs some work.”

“It does?” I couldn’t help but find this amusing. The concept felt fairly straightforward to me: I was King. End of story.