Lord G had been right about the palace. It really was even grander than Mortmain Castle. It was a long rectangular building made of white stone, with towering columns and seemingly endless windows. Inside, the reception hall was the length of a football field. Every surface Carly could see was black-and-white marble. Floor, ceiling, tapestry-covered walls.
“Seton and I will be right out here,” Lord G told Carly.
“Wait, you’re not coming in with me?” A bubble of panic swelled in her stomach.
Lord G smiled at her. “Queen Emilia wants to speak with you privately. And you’ll do fine, my dear. I have no doubt of it.”
Carly glanced from Lord G to Seton. Her bodyguard wore his usual unreadable expression. But he gave her a little nod. She took that as a sign of encouragement.
You can do this, Carly assured herself. You’re . . . you’re Carly. You’re just Carly and that’s enough.
***
Queen Emilia’s private sitting room was all purple, which caught Carly by surprise. The queen herself was a tiny woman with papery skin and cotton-white hair. She sat in an armchair that actually looked somewhat comfortable.
Carly knelt down like she’d practiced with her manners tutor.
The queen waved a bony hand dismissively. “That’s all right, child, get up. Have a seat on the sofa.”
Carly moved over to the cushion-covered purple sofa. She knew she was supposed to let the queen lead the conversation. Her manners tutor had been very clear on that.
“You look very much like your grandmother,” the queen remarked.
“I get that a lot,” said Carly. Then she remembered that her grandmother was this woman’s daughter. It must be so strange, so sad, to outlive your daughter and both your grandsons.
Queen Emilia studied her with beady eyes. “So what do you think of Evonia?”
Carly breathed in slowly, choosing her words. “There’s a lot I like. And a lot that I can’t stand.”
The queen didn’t blink. “Go on.”
“I know you want me to live here after I graduate from high school. And I do want to learn more about Evonia. I want to feel like I belong here. But I don’t want to just be a figurehead. I don’t want to show up at parades and pose for photo ops. If I’m going to spend the rest of my life here, I want to do something that makes it feel worthwhile. I know that if I give up my place in the line of succession, Arthur will be king after Prince Humphrey. And I know everyone thinks that’ll be a disaster.” Though maybe it wouldn’t, she thought. Maybe if Arthur finally felt like he mattered, he’d shape up. Maybe he’d want to honor his dad’s memory. And even if he was still a train wreck, at least he wouldn’t have any actual power.
Carly took another deep breath. Arthur’s choices weren’t up to her. She could only control her own decisions. “But I can’t be the kind of queen this family wants. I can’t live up to Charlotte the First.”
“Ah yes,” sighed Queen Emilia. “Well, who can live up to her? But between the two of us, I doubt your father named you after her. I think he named you after Charlotte Devoir, the eighteenth-century revolutionary. How much do you know about her?”
“Um—not much.”
Queen Emilia raised her eyebrows.
“Not anything,” Carly admitted quickly.
The queen nodded. “Well, I can recommend several good biographies of her. She was part of a rebel group in the late 1700s. She fought to bring down the monarchy and bring a more democratic government to Evonia.”
“Whoooa,” said Carly. “But—the monarchy didn’t give up its governing powers until about fifty years ago, right?”
“Correct,” said Queen Emilia. “The eighteenth-century uprising failed. But it inspired future generations. Charlotte Devoir believed that leaders should earn their power. And that everyone should have the freedom to pursue goals of their choosing. Regardless of their family or social class.”
“The soup kitchen is named after her,” Carly realized.
“Yes. And a wing in our largest hospital. And one of the parliament buildings.”
Carly had a feeling she would’ve liked this lady.
“I suggest you follow Charlotte Devoir’s example,” Queen Emilia said. “Do not do what is expected of you. Do what you know you are suited to do—what you believe in.”
Carly thought of the words she’d heard so often from her mom: “I want you to live the best life possible.” Suddenly Carly realized she’d been misunderstanding those words. Her mom didn’t want her to have a life that was comfortable and carefree. She wanted Carly to live a life she could be proud of.
“You know where your talents lie,” said Queen Emilia. “You know what you can accomplish. Never mind those who say you must follow a certain path. Make your own path.”
“Is that what you did?”
The queen smiled a little sadly. “No. And I regret it. But your father did. And so can you, my dear. There’s no need for you to decide anything immediately. I’d lay odds that I have another decade in me. No promises on how long my son will last, but he certainly won’t need a replacement tomorrow.”
Carly smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
***
For once, Arthur wasn’t lurking around waiting to taunt her. Carly had to go looking for him.
She found him napping on one of the terraces. As she walked up to him, he opened his eyes and jumped to his feet. Carly thought he looked nervous. Her outburst last night must’ve rattled him. Well, good, she thought. He was looking for a reaction, and he finally got one. Maybe now he’ll start thinking twice before he lashes out at people.
“Hi Arthur,” Carly said calmly. “I just wanted to thank you for being so blunt with me about what it really means to be royalty. I understand a lot of things better than I did when I first got here.”
Her cousin’s expression turned smug again. “Oh, really? Well, glad to help.”
“And I wanted to let you know that I’m going to officially give up my claim to the throne.”
Arthur’s smirk returned in full force. “I see. Well, it’s for the best, really.”
“Yeah, I think so,” Carly agreed. “Because that way there won’t be any conflict of interest when I run for parliament in about ten years.”
The smirk didn’t vanish right away. First it froze unnaturally, and then it twitched a bit, wavering. “Run for parliament?” Arthur repeated blankly.
Carly nodded, fighting to keep her own expression serious. “That’s right. I figure, once I’ve got my law degree, I’ll move back here and try to make a real difference. Who knows—maybe I’ll be your prime minister someday.”
That was when Arthur’s grin crumbled, replaced by a look of pure horror.
Behind her, Carly could’ve sworn she heard Seton snort with laugher.