Chapter Thirty-Five

Her Majesty Queen Aurelia had resting bitch face. Which wasn’t a bad thing for a Queen, if we’re being perfectly honest about it. I had grown used to the fact that my grandmother had never smiled with matriarchal satisfaction when I came into a room, even when I was an adorable tow-headed child, so the face that she had on now was quite normal.

Still, the uncertainty of the situation did make me sweat a little more than was approved by royal etiquette.

She spoke first. “Caroline. How lovely that you’ve joined us this evening.”

Translation: Thea made me invite you.

“It’s my pleasure, Your Majesty.”

Translation: I couldn’t get out of it. See also, a passive-aggressive reminder that I was thrown out of the family nine months ago.

“Your sister tells me you’ve graciously volunteered to help her with some of her charitable work.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant. Was she talking about the meeting with Karl Sylvain von Falkenburg? Or the whole debacle with Christian?

I decided to take a shot on the most likely possibility.

“Yes. I was most fascinated by the historical site that Mr. Von Falkenburg introduced me to.”

Her eyebrows arched. I think that meant that I had chosen correctly.

“The Langůs battlefield and the discovery of King Fredrik’s grave. Such an important development for the continued installation of our family’s legacy.” She paused. “Don’t you agree?”

I nodded slowly. “Family is everything.”

There was a cough somewhere from the direction of my siblings, who were totally pretending not to listen to my conversation with Big Gran.

My grandmother’s eyes flashed with interest, and maybe my small little digs weren’t going to repair my relationship with her, but I remembered that I had other family.

“Speaking of which,” I continued without letting her reply, “I was able to briefly visit Astrid recently.”

“The Dowager Duchess of Aronburg,” she said with a hint of correction. “How is Lady Astrid?”

“She is well.” I smiled blandly. “Still running her own little kingdom in the mountains.”

Thea swooped in. “I believe dinner will be served shortly. Shall we take our seats?”

Gran turned without saying another word to either of us. Thea gave me a decided watch-it look and then Henry came up and whispered in my ear, “Weren’t you supposed to grovel and plead for forgiveness?”

I sighed. “I think so.”

“That was very poor groveling,” Henry said gravely. “The worst groveling I’ve ever seen, in fact.”

“But very entertaining,” Sophie added as she swooped by us on her way to the table set for five.

Dinner started. We had always been fortunate, I suppose, that Gran insisted on delicious food in substantial quantities. I had heard some horrible stories about bland fish courses and tiny glasses of wine at some of the other royal palaces in the countries that bordered Drieden. They know who they are.

There was light conversation about Henry’s military duties, about Aurelia’s correspondence with a beloved former American president (not the recent, disastrous one. Gran had called him a pompous jackass, if I recalled correctly).

Then, just after coffee was served, Thea clinked her glass with a spoon.

“A bit formal, are we?” Henry asked.

“You could have just kicked us under the table like you used to,” Sophie said.

Thea lifted a brow at Sophie, who made a kissing face back.

I knew what Thea was about to say and, for one bittersweet moment, I wished she wouldn’t.

I liked our family exactly as it was. The sass from our baby sister. The droll over-it attitude from our brother. Our absent but loving parents. And, I realized, I’d even made a small amount of peace with what Gran had done to me.

Yes, she’d cut me off. Taking away my title had been almost like a metaphysical amputation. Something that had always been part of me suddenly wasn’t.

But. It wasn’t fatal—to my self-worth, to my future, even to my relationships with my family. I’d proved that by coming back tonight in my emerald silk cut nearly to my navel, chosen by my lover, who saw me exactly as I was.

Once the imminent announcement was made, everything could change.

Maybe Sophie wouldn’t make faces at her sister…once she was Queen.

Maybe Henry wouldn’t gallantly offer to play bartender…for his sister the Queen.

Maybe Thea would return my titles to me.

Maybe I didn’t even want them anymore.

Gran’s voice interrupted my reverie. “I wanted you all here tonight so you could hear it from me. After the celebration of my Jubilee this summer, I will inform Parliament that I am stepping down from the throne.”

A dramatic pause. Because she hadn’t wasted the last fifty years being an idiot.

“And I intend to declare that Theodora shall succeed me.”

Getting all dressed up and enduring Gran’s coolness was 100 percent worth it to see the expressions on my siblings’ faces.

Sophie’s eyebrow arched dramatically.

Henry blinked two, three dozen times.

We were too well trained to swear (even though I was tempted, to fully take advantage of my black-sheep status), but I was fairly certain that certain very unroyal words were flashing through my siblings’ minds.

And because no one had ever informed me of the proper court etiquette for this situation, I did the only thing that felt right to me. I stood, lifted my glass of wine and said solemnly, “God save Queen Aurelia.”

Henry stood, then Sophie, each following my lead. Then Thea did the same and I finally succeeded in melting my grandmother’s resting bitch face into a true, humble smile.

Harald, Big Gran’s personal butler, sprinted into the room. I had never seen the man move so fast before. I don’t even think I had seen him turn a color besides pale ecru.

But it wasn’t just Harald. Security agents appeared as if out of thin air. Two of them at every door, each of them holding their fingers to their ears, to whatever news alert or orders were being transmitted.

And then, maybe even scarier—Hugh and Nick stepped inside the room with faces deadly serious.

I had only seen these kind of acts once in my life, after a terrorist explosion in the downtown subway four years ago. It was a lockdown procedure. Henry, Sophie, and I exchanged looks. We all knew it. And then I noticed something.

Harald had bent low to whisper something in Big Gran’s ear. Then she had pointed at Thea and he did the same to her.

I wasn’t sure which scared me most. The fact that Big Gran had just abdicated a duty to my sister or the tears that were now spilling on to her cheeks.

“What’s happened?” I asked. Hugh’s eyes caught mine across the room and he gave me a small nod, making me feel like we were in this together—whatever this was.

But Her Majesty Queen Aurelia had just fully broken down, her white gloves covering her face. So Thea stood and put her hands on Big Gran’s shoulders.

“What’s happened!” I demanded this time. If I was part of this family, even on the outskirts, I deserved to know.

Thea looked stricken as she recounted the news. “It’s Father. He’s had an attack. He needs urgent surgery right away.”

“Oh my God!” Sophie cried.

Henry pushed back his chair. “Where? What hospital?” he shouted at a security officer. “Sinclair! Tell the helipad to get ready.”

“He’s at Ceillis House or…he was. He’s being flown into St Mary’s now. The Ören wing,” Thea added, but it was almost unnecessary. It was the section of the hospital that was organized and prepared for royal visits—emergency or routine.

Henry checked his watch. “Still, this time of night, we’ll do better with the helicopter.” He signaled to the men and held his hand out for Sophie as she got out of her chair.

Queen Aurelia’s voice rose above the sounds of pushing chairs and rushing bodies. “Thea stays.”

The pronouncement startled all of us until we remembered…

“Yes, ma’am,” Henry said in his military manner. It was appropriate; he was taking an order, after all.

But Thea looked like she didn’t want to obey. She even went as far as to say that one word that would have earned any of us a sharp reprimand when we were children. “But…”

“The Crown Prince is in mortal danger. As next in line, you must stay here.” Big Gran’s voice was shaky but carried all her authority. No one argued.

Henry, Sophie and I rushed from the room but, down the hall, I stopped when Henry started to turn left toward the courtyard, where the helipad was located. He said my name. “What is it?”

“I’ll join you there,” I promised. “I have a stop to make first.”

My twin gave me a brief nod, snatched our little sister’s hand and moved on. In the entire family, Henry was always the one who had always accepted my decisions without argument. Frankly, it was a relief.

I spun and went back toward the stairs, where I would find the drivers and the cars. A few minutes later, I was in the back of a palace Mercedes, speeding along the Corsicair toward the Hotel Ilysium. I told the driver to call Agent Konnor and let him know where we were going. He was back on regular duty and his place was with the rest of the security staff, but I still wanted him to know I was safe.

If the whole family had to gather at my father’s bedside, then I was determined that Thea would be the only one left out.

The hospital had staff waiting for us and there was a private underground entrance for the SUV to pull into, but I knew that all the precautions in the world wouldn’t stop this news from getting out. That not only was Prince Albert in the hospital, but that his disowned daughter and ex-wife had rushed to his side.

I had dragged my mother out of a pre-theater private dinner party for ten that she had been enjoying in her suite, so she was dressed in her brightest peacock-blue plumage. The two of us in our evening clothes rushing out of the hotel and then into a hospital wing would automatically draw attention. It was only a matter of time. Everyone would know soon.

The memories of Stavros’s death came crashing back to the present. The press, the photographers. The gruesome things they shouted as I stumbled from vehicle to building to vehicle to hotel. I hadn’t even known where I was going, who was leading me, I had simply trusted people to take me where I needed to be.

It was much the same tonight. The staff led us to the fourth floor. Palace security had already stationed themselves at the entrances. Doors opened as we approached. I didn’t stop and smile or thank anyone. I had one mission.

To see my father one last time.

The waiting room was probably fancier than the rest of the hospital, but I noticed none of it, seeing only the faces of Sophie and Henry and a team of white-coated doctors. “Mama!” Sophie cried, running to Felice’s arms. Henry excused himself from the doctors to come and give our mother a hug as well. We were dysfunctional, perhaps, but in this fishbowl we needed each other more than ever.

“Thank you,” Henry said with a kiss on my cheek. “For bringing her,” he added.

“She’d never forgive herself if she wasn’t here.”

“And we’d never stop hearing about it,” he added with a small bit of deadpan humor.

Then Henry led me back to the doctors to hear the news I had dreaded. It would be a miracle if our father survived the night.