Page 96 of The Royal Art of Revenge

“Harriet…”

“I’m not sorry.” My palms sting as my nails bury themselves deep in my skin, surely forming those familiar bright red welts. “I lost everything the day I was kidnapped. There was nothing left for me to reclaim as my own when I came home, not even my identity. This was the only thing left for me, and you’re the one responsible for that. You took it all from me, not even leaving me space to use my own name. So, I’m not sorry I did this. I’m not sorry I went behind your back. I’m not sorry I ‘ruined’ Jasmine’s life. I’m not sorry I embarrassed you in front of all those people tonight and forced you to acknowledge me as your daughter. Not even a little bit.”

“I have to go,” he says, taking a step back, even as guilt flickers across his aging features. “I have to see to Jasmine.”

“Yes, go. God forbid you let her deal with anything by herself. The poor thing is probably having a colossal breakdown right now courtesy of her mean and nasty big sister.”

“Show some humility, Harriet!” My father finally snaps, his cheeks flushing. “You’ve snuck around for God only knows how long, actively planning to hurt your own sister. I’m no fool—I know the two of you strongly dislike each other, and I can’t make you get along. But your cruelty to her tonight is beyond anything I ever imagined you capable of. Of course I’m going to go to her. She’s hurting, and she’s my daughter.”

“So am I.”

He freezes.

“I’m also your daughter! Just because you replaced me with your bastard child by your mistress doesn’t erase my existence because it’s convenient for you.”

He takes a step towards me, a vein on his forehead popping as he raises his hand. “How dare—”

“I advise you not to take another step forwards, William.” Finn’s voice reverberates down the corridor, and before I’ve even fully registered it, he takes a step between me and my father. He reaches behind for me, fully guarding me against the man before us. “And think about what exactly it is that you’re doing before you make me do something you’ll regret.”

“It’s fine.” I press my clenched fists into his back, turning my face to the side. “I was about to leave anyway. I—”

“Excellent decision,” Finn continues, ignoring me completely. “Do not think for a second that I’ll allow you to treat my fiancée with anything less than absolute respect. In fact, I demand it. You will respect her.”

My heart is racing.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump. Endless, rapid beats that hammer against my ribs, causing a pulse so strong it literally echoes in my ears.

“Your Royal Highness, this is a private conversation with my daughter,” my father says tightly.

“Then have it in a private place, not in the hallways of the palace,” Finn retorts without missing a beat, his voice still ice-cold. “And when you step towards her while raising your hand, that ceases to be a conversation, and it certainly ceases to be private. You are very much mistaken if you believe I’ll ever let you or anyone else lay a hand on her.”

Ah.

That… that’s never happened before.

“I agree.” The Queen’s voice rings through the hall, and I peer around Finn’s arm to see her gliding almost ethereally towards us. “I think it’s time to end this so-called conversation.”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly, meeting her gaze. “I didn’t mean—”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my darling girl.” She touches a fingertip to my lips, silencing me, and turns back to my father. “William, I think you should take your wife and youngest daughter and retire for the evening, lest you say or do something you can’t take back.”

I look over at him, and for the briefest of moments, our eyes meet. Anger flickers in his gaze like a flame, and I don’t know what’s upsetting him more. The fact I’ve called him out or that the Royal Family are wholly on my side.

He clears his throat, taking a step back and lowering his gaze. “You are correct, Your Majesty. I’ve let my emotions get the better of me. I apologise.”

“I’m not the one who is owed an apology from you,” she says dryly. “But if you get started on that, I rather fear we’ll be here all night, and I have better things to do than listen to your spiel of insincerity.”

He flinches.

As he should.

That’s the nicest way anyone has ever been told to shut the fuck up and cut the bullshit.

“You will return to the palace tomorrow at eleven-thirty a.m. sharp with your wife and daughter so that we may discuss this turn of events.” She steps up beside Finn, shoulder-to-shoulder, shielding me further. “It will likely be a rather unpleasant conversation, but it’s one that must be had all the same.”

I have just enough of a view that I can see him bow his head.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He pauses. “With your permission, I’ll be on my way.”