by Geneva Lee
I did my best not to listen to any of it. It was enough, caring for a recuperating newborn and juggling a toddler. Buckingham suddenly felt as though it was bursting at the seams and empty at the same time.
It had been nearly a month since I’d spoken to Edward. I’d tried, but when Belle told me to respect his need for distance, I took her advice. At least he was speaking to her.
Three weeks ago, Sarah had been moved to Kensington Palace where Henry was keeping a close eye on her—along with a massive security team. She’d come to see the baby, failed to look me in the eye, and had left crying.
It felt like my family was falling apart at the same time that it felt stronger than ever.
Alexander strode out of the shower with a towel hanging off his hips just as I sat down to nurse William.
“You aren’t ready,” he said, looking me over.
It was true. I was stalling. I’d endured the media’s questions before but this would be entirely different. Nothing could prepare me for facing them today after all that had happened. “You aren’t either, but I’m not complaining.”
I drank in the sight of his hard upper body, the muscles and scars carving across it, were a little too tempting. Alexander seemed to sense that my mind was in the gutter. Prowling toward me, he shook water from his hair, before bending down to kiss me.
“I believe the doctor said two more weeks.” To us, waiting that long translated into a lifetime. Not that he hadn’t found other ways to amuse himself. Once I’d finally convinced him that I wasn’t going to shatter, we’d been engaging in other well-needed activities. “Unless you’re ready for number three.”
“Down, X.” I pushed him away with my free hand. “Let’s give this one a little more time.”
“Like two weeks?” He smirked as he stood and allowed the towel to fall to the ground.
“That’s playing dirty,” I called to him as he sauntered to our closet, making a show of his shapely ass the whole way.
“I don’t play any other way.”
He was in a good mood considering the day’s itinerary. It made me a little nervous. Then again, he’d had me home for weeks, neither of us interested in leaving. A new baby was a perfect excuse to stay in and we’d taken full advantage.
But although time had passed, we’d only just begun to heal. This time I knew the scars would never fade. We would carry them with us for the rest of our lives.
A few hours later the next stage of our lives was about to begin. We’d discussed what to say for hours, planned every word, but now that it was nearly here, I wasn’t certain I could face it.
We’d call the press conference with a smaller number of reporters than normal, biasing our picks toward those that had been friendly to us in the past.
I smoothed the cotton wrap dress I’d chosen for the event, wondering if my stomach would ever be flat again. Exercise didn’t feel like the highest priority for the moment, and Alexander certainly didn’t have any complaints. I wondered again if I should have put my hair up. Then I remembered that it didn’t really matter how I looked. People were interested in the baby.
Before we reached the White Room, a vaguely familiar older gentleman stepped into our path.
“If I might have a word, Your Majesty?” he said.
Alexander didn’t seem shocked by the man’s boldness. In fact, he appeared to recognize him. He took my arm and led us into a private room.
“Perhaps it would be best…” The stranger trailed away leaving me to fill in the blanks.
I was an uninvited guest, but before I could excuse myself and find Norris or Georgia—one of them would no doubt be lurking nearby—Alexander tightened his grip on my hand.
“I don’t keep secrets from my wife. She knows about the Council.”
I did my best to hide my shock and failed miserably. After hearing about the Council of Ghosts, I suppose I hadn’t expected a man of flesh and blood to appear.
“Clara, this is Minister Clark,” Alexander introduced us.
I ignored Clark’s displeased look and smiled warmly at him—as warmly as a woman could smile at the man who might decide to assassinate her husband.
“There are unsettling rumors in Parliament,” Clark said, bypassing continued pleasantries. “They say you plan to make an announcement today.”
“We do,” Alexander said serenely.
“And the nature of this announcement?”
“I suppose you’ll find out. If you’ll excuse us.” Alexander directed us toward the corridor, but before we could step away, Clark clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Think about what you’re doing,” he advised in a gruff voice. “You’ll make enemies. This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”
Alexander shook free of him and considered this for a moment. “I’m done playing games.”
I could barely keep up with his long strides as we made out way to the reporters. I felt the purpose blazing within him and suddenly my anxiety evaporated, replaced with pride.
This was the man I’d fallen in love with. He’d faced his darkness. He’d embraced it. He’d chosen a path most men could never face. But Alexander didn’t believe in accepting what fate handed him. He had rejected that lie a long time ago. Today, he was going to publicly show the world that he would not be intimidated.
He paused before we entered and pulled me close to him. Brushing a finger over my lips, he stared into my eyes, turning my core molten. “Are you ready?”
“Always,” I breathed.
That’s how it was with us. It would never change.
Alexander leaned down and covered my mouth with his, stealing my breath and replacing it with his own. For one wild moment, I forgot where we were and what we were about to do—and in that moment, everything made sense.
The sensation remained even when he finally drew away, as though he’d transfused me with his own confidence.
Norris stood on the edge of the room, scanning the crowd, always on the alert for danger. Eventually, I hoped he would forgive himself for what had happened. For now, I was glad he was here.
I hadn’t been around this many strangers since Windsmoor, and it made my stomach flip. I felt my palm begin to sweat, but when I tried to pull it free, Alexander wouldn’t let it go. The message was clear: we were in this together.
As soon as we took our place behind the podium, the questions began.
“Your Majesty, why the delay in introducing Prince William?”
“Your Majesty, are the rumors that the child nearly died true?”
“Your Majesty…”
“Your Majesty…”
“Your Majesty…”
They ran together, each a cutting reminder that our lives weren’t our own.
Alexander held up his free hand and waited for the noise to die down. “Our son was born with a heart defect that required immediate surgery. We were aware of this and prepared. Out of consideration for his welfare and on medical advice, we’ve chosen to delay his introduction.”
This announcement which ended a good deal of speculation propelled a new barrage of questions. Alexander bypassed them all. “We won’t be sharing more details about William at this time. However, Clara and I have an announcement to make.”
He looked to me. This was my part. I’d thought I could do it, but now that the time had come. I closed my eyes and willed a little more strength from him.
Alexander leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’m here, poppet.”
All around us cameras snapped photos of the moment. There was a reason why we were considered the most affectionate royal couple in history.
I squeezed Alexander’s hand and forced myself to speak. “In May, a month before our son was due to be born, a group of people abducted me in an attempt to kidnap our child. Thanks to a courageous group of individuals—thanks to my family—I was recovered and William received the life-saving intervention he needed.”
The room had fallen deadly silent. No one dared speak. It had been a
gamble to tell them, but now that we had their attention, it was time to make our move.
I looked to Alexander, passing him the torch.
“This unprecedented action against the throne has forced us to establish new policies with the approval and aid of the Prime Minister to protect our family’s well-being. This is no longer a matter of privacy. It is the matter of our very lives.
“Today the rogue organization known as MI-18 has been officially disavowed by the British government and placed at the top of Interpol’s known terrorist organizations. Working with intelligence agencies throughout the world, we hope to bring these criminals to justice.
“I did not choose to be your King. It was a responsibility passed to me through birth. I’m proud of England—of what we stand for—so today I stand beside you not as a monarch but as a Brit. And I call upon you to stand up to those that would oppress and manipulate. We’re a small nation but we are powerful. I’m proud to be your king and I will do everything in my power to protect my family and yours.”
The silence stretched on for a moment, and when someone finally broke it, it wasn’t with a question. I had no idea who the first person was to shout it, but the words rang loud and clear.
“Long live the King! Long live the Queen!”
Within seconds, the room was full of the chant. Alexander looked to me and smiled. We’d never be certain if we made the right choice. But there was one truth I would never doubt:
I never chose an easy life. I chose him.
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Acknowledgments
This was the hardest book I’ve ever written, physically and mentally. Life handed me a huge responsibility in the midst of working on this, and as I sit here, shaking, trembling, and wondering how the hell, I got through, you’re the person I want to thank.
The one who’s loved these books, rooted for these characters, and kept me going.
I’m blessed to have a wonderful team behind me that knows exactly why I’m keeping these nods short and sweet. I couldn’t do this without you—any of it.
Thank you. Always.