Page 104 of The Royal Art of Revenge

Jasmine, to her credit, hasn’t so much as squeaked.

How hard is she biting her tongue?

“How… did this come about?” William asks after a moment of consideration. “I wasn’t aware Harriet had made contact with you.”

“She didn’t,” I say.

He looks at me. “Then how…?”

“We met by coincidence.” I briefly recount the tale of our meeting in the park and all those thereafter. “Once she came here, Mum recognised her, and the rest is history. I can assure you that she had no idea she was coming to the palace that day.”

Rosalyn narrows her eyes. “Did you really believe her when she said she didn’t know who you were?”

I shrug a shoulder and lean back. “Does it matter? I didn’t know who she was. Her knowing my identity only makes it more understandable why she went along with what I said, don’t you think? Would you turn me down if I asked you to take my photos and you knew I had the ability to potentially shoot you to stardom as a photographer?”

Jasmine opens her mouth, but William beats her to it. “Of course not,” he says quickly. “She would never have to work to find clients again. It does make sense.”

I hold out my hands as if to say, exactly.

“For what it’s worth,” my mother says, slowly setting her teacup back down. “She was very reluctant to admit to her identity. It took some… persuading. Isn’t that right, Finley?”

I nod. “She refused to speak entirely at one point.”

William’s lips tighten. “I will take your word for it. She agreed not to reveal her real name, and I would like to think my daughter is not a liar.”

How brave of him to admit that.

“Then you are free to think it.” A small smile creeps across her face. “For not once has she ever admitted in my or Finley’s presence that her name is Harriet Sinclair. To this day, those words have never passed her lips. For all everyone knows, I’ve been operating on a complete fantasy and welcoming a random young woman into the family, so I was rather grateful for your confirmation last night.”

His eyes flash, almost as if he realises he could have made a different decision.

Thank God he didn’t.

Rosalyn’s jaw clenches. “I would like to know how the engagement came about. We were under the impression that Jasmine would be His Royal Highness’ fiancée.”

“Yes,” Mum says slowly, dragging the word out. “However, it was never guaranteed, nor did I ever confirm that I would grant Royal Assent to their betrothal. Even before Harriet returned, we hadn’t finalised anything that could lead you to assume it was a certainty. It’s rather bold of you to assume otherwise.”

“But—” Jasmine quickly catches herself under the sharp glare of my mother.

“An agreement was still made,” Rosalyn continues. “And forgive me for bringing it up, but given the circumstances surrounding her childhood, are you certain Harriet is the correct match for His Royal Highness?”

I freeze.

And… rage.

Rage unlike anything I’ve ever fucking felt courses through my veins.

How dare she?

How fucking dare she question Harriet’s right to be my wife?

Never in my life have I struck a woman, but for this vile creature in front of me—for Harriet—I might just damn well do it.

“Are you questioning my judgement, Mrs Sinclair?” The ice in my mother’s tone sends a chill through the room.

Rosalyn flinches. “Of course not, Your Majesty. I—I was just…expressing concern for your family.”

“Your concern is misplaced and unwarranted.”