Page 168 of The Royal Art of Revenge

“What if…” I swallow. “What if this is the exception? What if this is too much and she has no choice but to step back?”

“Do not underestimate her strength,” she says quietly.

“Not her. The public, Mum. If there’s too much outcry, there’s no way she’ll be accepted, and—”

“Don’t.” Alec’s voice cuts in, drawing my attention back to him. His eyes are as dark as I’ve ever seen them, and the firm set of his shoulders says everything about his mood right now. “I will find out who did this. I will find out who is behind this sack of lies, and I will serve them up on a silver platter to you. And not because I have a duty to the Crown, but because I find myself irritatingly fond of that terrifying woman.”

Wow.

For Alec to say that…

“Oscar is already convening with Rowan. He’s called his father to the palace, too,” Mum continues. “They’re meeting with the legal team to apply for an emergency court hearing to force the journalists to reveal their sources. Rowan believes there are grounds for this given the serious nature of the allegations.”

“You won’t need it,” Alec says confidently. “I’ll have a name by midnight.”

“And that name won’t be admissible in a court of law,” she points out. “As much as I appreciate the investigative prowess of you and yours, it’s information that must stay confidential until a judge rules otherwise.”

“Stupid laws.”

“What can I do?” I ask Mum, turning back to her.

“What you do best.” She rests her hand over mine. “Go and look after Harriet.”

“But I—”

“She needs you.” Her tone brokers no argument. “I fear these allegations have brought up some memories she’d prefer stayed buried, and she needs the person she feels safest with. That is, and always will be, you. That is the most useful thing you can do for any of us right now.”

She’s right.

I know she’s right.

But I want to do fucking something.

“I’ll go.” I slide my hand out from under hers and stand up. “Alec, find this person.”

He glances up, nods, and answers another call without batting an eyelid.

I walk towards the door. No. I’m not going empty-handed. I turn back, grab the box of pastries Mum brought in earlier, and resume my mission to return to our apartment and comfort her.

“Finn.”

I stop and look over my shoulder at the sound of Mum’s voice.

“Alec is right. We will find them.” Her tone never wavers, and her gaze is so intense it would make a glacier melt. “We will find whoever is responsible for these lies about my daughter, and they will pay for it.”

My daughter.

“You already know who’s behind it,” is all I say before I walk out of the room and let the door slam behind me.

And I do.

I know. I fucking know. Which means Harriet does, too.

The maids are gone when I reach our apartment. My heart thunders against my ribs, and my pulse once again beats a cacophonic rhythm in my ears.

She’s alone.

She shouldn’t be alone.