Page 105 of The Royal Art of Revenge

“I apolo—”

“What my wife means is that Jasmine has been raised since her preteen years believing she was going to become the Crown Princess according to the agreement you made with my late wife,” William says smoothly. “Due to her disappearance, Harriet has had no such upbringing. She’s barely spoken about the time she was away from us. We have no information about her education, if any at all. We’re merely concerned that she may bring the Royal House into disrepute.”

“I do not know if you are bold or stupid.” My mother sits up straight, keeping her steely gaze fixed on him. “Perhaps it’s both, given that you continue speaking when you should shut up.”

He opens his mouth, but this time, he wisely holds his tongue.

“I had an inkling that you think little of your eldest daughter, but I’m astounded to see that it’s even less than I could have imagined. Do you know her at all, William?” She tilts her head to the side. “Of course, she hasn’t spoken to you about what she went through when she was missing. You replaced her and her mother as soon as you could, and ever since she returned home, you’ve had her living under a fake name to hide her identity. Tell me, if you were her, would you say a word about what you went through? Would you feel safe enough to recount a terrible time of your life?”

He says nothing, merely pressing his lips together.

“As for her being, what was it? Suitable? That was what you said, yes?” She raises her eyebrows at Rosalyn, then continues. “There’s only one person qualified to decide who’s ‘suitable’ to be his wife, and that is Finley himself. You know full well that despite the agreement we made, Francesca and I were very much of the opinion that both Harriet and Finley would be allowed to marry whoever they wished.

“The arrangement between our families was little more than two best friends wishing their children might find happiness together. If that wasn’t in the cards for them, then so be it. I’m certainly not archaic enough to force my son into a marriage that doesn’t bring him peace or happiness. If that’s the impression my people have of their queen, then I’m doing a terrible job at carrying our country through this rapidly changing society.”

“Of course not, Your Majesty,” Rosalyn says quickly. “It’s just that—”

“I chose Harriet.”

Everyone’s gazes fall on me, each of them with a different emotion fixated my way. Pride, anger, frustration, jealousy.

“Nothing else matters,” I continue, ensuring my tone leaves no room for anyone to argue. “Other than my choice, and I chose Harriet. I choose Harriet. And let me be very clear—no matter what happens, I will always choose her.”

A slow smile teases the corners of my mother’s lips, and she sits back in her armchair, her tense features finally settling. The same can’t be said for the Sinclairs.

William’s expression is one of disbelief—and I know it’s not because he thinks I’m lying, but because he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Rosalyn’s is a thinly veiled anger, culminating in the clench of her jaw, and Jasmine’s is outright despair.

As if I’m shattering whatever little bit of hope she had left.

Good.

I hope she cuts herself on the pieces of her broken dreams.

I turn to her and incline my head. “I do apologise if I have ever given you the wrong impression about our relationship. That wasn’t my intention, and I acknowledge that I take full responsibility for any misunderstanding. I should have made my position regarding the marriage arrangements much clearer, much sooner, so please allow me to right that wrong.”

She swallows, bobbing her head.

“I do not have, nor have I ever had, any desire to marry you.”

Her eyes widen, and for the briefest of moments, I see it.

The real her, the one she keeps hidden behind her sweet-as-sugar persona. The vicious, manipulative edge that runs through her veins, ready to strike at any point.

The bitter, jealous vine of hatred she keeps reserved for Hattie.

It’s gone as quickly as it flared to life, and I must give her kudos. The woman is an incredible actress to keep such vehement emotions hidden.

“Nor will I ever wish to,” I finish. “The only woman I’ll marry in this lifetime is Harriet.”

Jasmine’s cheeks flame, but again, she says nothing. This is the quietest I’ve ever heard her, and that’s just how angry she is. I’ve just driven the final nail into her coffin, confirming her worst nightmare, and now she must do the thing she’s feared most.

The thing Harriet wants more than anything.

Jasmine must watch as Harriet lives the life she thought she’d have.

As my fiancée. As my wife. As the crown princess. As the future mother of this nation, as its queen. As she takes a place in history so few ever have or ever will.

And there isn’t a fucking thing she can do about it.