Claim Me

by Geneva Lee

  I’d just finished an unproductive call with one of the many MPs I needed to win back when Norris called.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Your brother has arrived. He’s gone to your private quarters.”

  I hung up and barked an order at the nearest assistant I saw to cancel my meetings for the rest of the day. The clock was ticking, and if I could deal with this before tonight’s family reunion, all the better.

  Norris met me at the end of the south corridor. “You hung up.”

  “I want to get this over with.” I continued past him into our family’s apartments only to stop when I saw the small gathering there. Edward was playing with Elizabeth on the floor while Henry and Clara watched. My grandmother was absorbed with something out the window, a sour expression turning her face.

  She was the first one to spot me.

  “How could you?” she called out. Every head in the room, even Elizabeth’s, swiveled to stare at me.

  “You didn’t give me a chance to warn you that they arrived earlier,” Norris said under his breath. He clapped a hand on my shoulder for a second and took his leave. Apparently, I was to face the firing squad alone.

  “And in a mood,” I muttered. I plastered a false smile on my face and moved to greet them. “Welcome.”

  I stopped myself from adding home. The last thing I needed was my grandmother hearing a perceived invitation to move back into the palace.

  “You gave us no warning you would be holding that infernal press conference,” Mary launched into her rant. “We were forced to come early to avoid the press.”

  “I am sorry,” I said tightly. Weighing my options, I decided to get this family meeting over with, regardless of their presence. Neither my wife nor brother had rushed to acknowledge my arrival. In fact, Edward had joined Clara across the room. He’d picked his side: Team Queen.

  Had she spoken with him? Had they planned to confront me?

  I shook the thoughts from my minds. It didn’t matter.

  “And then there’s the matter of your father’s bastard. You told him.” Mary cast a poisoned glare in Clara’s direction. “What will we do when he goes to the press?”

  “He won’t,” Clara and I said together.

  “Let’s deal with one thing at a time,” I said. Clara finally looked at me, the sharp edge of disapproval in her eyes. I’d always thought they were the color of the sea on a cloudy day. Now they were a storm.

  I decided to change my tone. “I need to speak with all of you, anyway. I came as soon as Norris told me you were here.”

  Edward rolled his eyes and shot Clara a frown. It was going to take a lot to convince them I was capable of reform, especially since I wasn’t so sure I was, either.

  “I made an assumption that Sarah should return home—that she would want to—but I should have discussed it with you.” I forced myself to add, “With all of you.”

  I didn’t give two fucks what half the people in this room thought, but saying so wouldn’t endear me to the ones I did care about.

  “I’m not sure that’s for the best.” Mary sniffed. “Perhaps, she should stay with us for a time to acclimate.”

  “Mother, we discussed this,” Henry broke in. “We will be in London for a few weeks. The doctors say she is asking to see her family.”

  “You’re receiving reports from the doctors?” Edward asked him while glaring at me.

  I held out my hands wondering if there was any point in telling him that this was news to me as well.

  “Of course we are,” Mary said. “We’ve always been kept informed of her care. The reports were more regular from Albert, though.”

  So much for digging myself out of this hole. My family had arrived with shovels to bury me deeper. And who was keeping them in the loop? I made a mental note to discuss it with Norris. I imagined it was some policy established before my father’s death. If I’d known…

  “Where would she stay?” Edward asked. “I suppose there’s room at Clarence House.”

  He looked green even thinking about it. At first, I couldn’t understand why. Then I remembered how young he’d been when Sarah had left. He barely knew her.

  “You’re newlyweds.” Clara placed a hand on his arm. “Sarah lived here?”

  I didn’t miss the accusation in the question. She knew very well that Sarah had lived here until the accident, but she wasn’t going to miss the chance to rub my nose in shit.

  “This was her home.”

  “She can’t come here.” Mary looked around like we were in the middle of a shack.

  “There are nearly eight hundred rooms in this house,” Clara said dryly. “We can find room.”

  I fell in love with her a little bit more. Few people would stand up to Mary. Mary herself made it her mission to condescend to my wife at every opportunity. Clara no longer took any of it.

  Then, I remembered that while I was falling in love, my wife had accepted a life of duty that no longer included feeling the same about me. My jaw clenched as I considered this, only partially aware of the bickering that had broken out between the group surrounding me.

  Democracy was getting us nowhere. I should have stuck with being a king. “Enough. Sarah will come here. Clara?”

  It was a statement to everyone else, but a question for Clara. Our eyes locked together, everyone else fading away. She could overrule me. She had that power, and she needed to know it. Norris was right. I might not deserve Clara, but I needed her. And I wasn’t going to win her back by dealing her out. She had to have equal say.

  “Sarah will come home,” she repeated, changing the final word.

  It was a little thing to notice—that simple word change. This was still Clara’s home—our home. But I saw it for what it was: a tiny speck of light blinking at the edge of my darkness.

  Chapter 9

  Clara

  Sarah’s room was practically a time capsule. I was surprised to find no dust when I drew back the curtains. Light slanted across a room that time might have forgotten but housekeeping had not. It was then I realized that Albert had never given up hope. He’d kept her bedroom ready, as if she might walk into it at any moment.

  A copy of Twilight sat on her bedside table next to a long-dead mobile phone. Would she come looking for these things? She’d gone away a girl and she was coming back a woman who’d missed ten years. As far as I knew, Sarah had never fallen in love. She hadn’t gone to college. She’d missed her brothers’ weddings. Life had moved on without her. She was as frozen in time as her room.

  I’d never come here before. It felt like a violation. Now it was up to me to prepare it for her return, but I didn’t know where to start. I sat on the bed and stared at the remnants of the lost girl, feeling a strange kinship.

  Except it wasn’t the last ten years I’d lost, it was the present. I was going through the motions, caught in an endless cycle of doing as I was told and having the rug pulled out from under me. I understood feeling powerless. I didn’t know Sarah. I actually knew very little about her. I’d always been hesitant to bring her up to Alexander and Edward. I regretted that now.

  Was she the type of girl who wanted to pretend like nothing had happened? Would she walk back into this room and pick up where she’d left off? Or would being reminded of that stolen time sting and burn? I was an expert at pretending to pick up where I left off and that was getting me nowhere.

  Taking out my mobile, I made a call.

  * * *

  “God, I haven’t been here in years.” Edward surveyed the room in wonder. “I snuck in after…after she died. I mean, after the accident.”

  “I think it’s going to take us all a while to get used to her being back. I didn’t know if calling you for help was the right thing to do, but I can’t bring Alexander here. He blames himself for all of it—the cover-up and the lies. I can’t make him face this,” I explained.

  “I want to help.” Edward sat beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “But he is to blame.
At least partially.”

  “I know that. I do, truly,” I said when he made a clucking sound.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, and he has to be held accountable, but he also has to be forgiven,” I said softly. I’d seen the darkness growing in Alexander, threatening to consume him. It had been foolish to believe we’d vanquished it. Darkness was part of him—it drew me to him—and I was always waiting for the gates to open and let it through.

  “I don’t know if I can.” Edward hung his head in shame. “I don’t know how you can, either.”

  “If I stopped forgiving Alexander I wouldn’t be able to look at him. It’s part of the whole marriage package.”

  “I heard you two yelling after the press conference,” Edward confessed, turning to study me. “I heard him tell you to leave. I thought about coming in, but…”

  My throat slid as I considered what to say. I was glad he hadn’t. That afternoon had been the first time I’d been with my husband in weeks. For the last few nights, I’d had to come to accept that it might have been the last time I would ever be with him again.

  “I can’t talk about that.” The words came out as broken as I felt. “I’m sorry.”

  “I understand,” he said quickly, his curiosity shifting to worry. He lifted his arms from my shoulder and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “But you know he doesn’t want you to leave.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Trying to figure out what Alexander wanted was like trying to fit two different puzzles together. Every time I thought I knew who he was, I’d turn over a piece to discover that it didn’t fit.

  “That’s not what’s really important. Do you want to leave?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” I cradled my baby bump and willed myself not to cry. It seemed like I should have run out of tears by now.

  “I’m sorry. You said to drop it.” Edward jumped to his feet and forced a smile, but it wasn’t his boyish grin. The fun and games were over. There were no parties or private shopping dates. Even lunch out was impossible. The paparazzi had been insufferable since his wedding. I couldn’t imagine how vicious they would be now. We’d blinked and our whole lives had changed.

  “I thought we should get her room ready.” I decided to take his cue and focus on why I’d asked him to come over. “But I have no idea where to start. It’s clean. These are her things.”

  “But will she want any of them?” he asked, echoing my thoughts from earlier.

  “I wouldn’t,” I said and his eyes flashed to me. “I’ve been thinking about it. I would feel trapped in a life that wasn’t really mine, but…”

  “She’s not you,” he finished for me.

  “I knew you’d understand my predicament.” I sighed with relief.

  “So you called your GBFF.” He turned in a circle, a frown on his face.

  “My GB-what?” I asked.

  “Gay best friend forever. Every fabulous woman needs one.” His mouth twisted into a smirk. It wasn’t his usual grin, but it was something. I’d take whatever scraps of humor I could find.

  “Am I a fabulous woman?” I asked with a much-needed giggle.

  “Hello! You’re the Queen of England,” he said. “You are the definition of fabulous.”

  I shook my head, wishing I could believe it. Being in here only reminded me that most of the time I felt like a fraud. “What if she hates me?”

  “What if she hates me?” he repeated.

  “You’re her brother.”

  “That’s no guarantee. My father hated me,” Edward pointed out.

  “Your father loved you,” I said softly. Sitting here, I realized how much he had loved his children. I had to assume he hadn’t reserved all his affection for his daughter. “I think this room proves that. He couldn’t let her go.”

  “Maybe he should have,” Edward said. “Clara, I-I feel angry. About Anders. About Sarah. My father changed all of our lives without a thought to how any of us would feel about it.”

  My feelings on Albert were beyond complicated. He’d stepped in front of a bullet to save his son’s life. He’d treated me cruelly, but he’d given me a future. Death had taken him before I could ever know him, and now I never would. That was hard enough for me. I couldn’t fathom what it was like for his children.

  “I want to meet him,” Edward’s announcement called me from my thoughts.

  “Who?” I asked, wondering what I’d missed.

  “Anders.”

  “You have.” I studied him for signs of a stroke. I’d been there on multiple occasions where both had been present. At least one of which that had been truly unforgettable.

  “As my brother, not as a stranger,” he said, pacing across the room. He got to the other side and turned back to do another loop, his hands behind his back. “But he…”

  “Doesn’t want anything to do with us?” I guessed. Edward nodded. “Give him time.”

  “Time doesn’t fix everything.” His eyes flickered around the room as if it was concrete proof of that.

  “No, it doesn’t, but he’ll come around.” I’d gotten to know Anderson Stone a little before Alexander’s revelation had screwed everything up. He would probably never get along with Alexander—the two of them were too similar—but there was a better than decent chance he would give Edward a shot.

  “I don’t know how else to move past this.” Edward paused at the window. “I’m so angry with my father. I had more family, and it’s not just that he kept them from me, but that he let sadness take over his life.”

  “Losing a wife and a child...” I shook my head. I couldn’t even fathom carrying that loss with me. I could barely handle this trouble keeping me from Alexander. It felt like my heart had been taken out of my body and locked up somewhere I would never find it. “If it came to that for me…” I stopped, realization crashing through me. “If it comes to that, I don’t know what I’ll become.”

  “You will never be like that,” Edward said fiercely, lording over me in a way that made him look more like his older brother than usual.

  “You don’t know that.” He couldn’t. No one could. Not even me. “If Alexander makes me leave. If the baby…” I couldn’t even say the words. My eyes found the floor, unable to look at him. How would I face it if the baby’s heart couldn’t be fixed?

  “I do know.” Edward dropped to the floor in front of me, his hand lifting my chin so I couldn’t avoid him. “That won’t ever happen to you because I won’t let it. Belle won’t let it. No matter what happens, we will be here.”

  They wouldn’t let me fade away. They wouldn’t let my heart turn as black and hopeless as Albert’s had. I had best friends and they would be here to love me through it.

  “You have to be that for Alexander, too,” I said in a soft voice.

  “I don’t know if I can,” he said with a sigh.

  “Yes, you can. He’s your brother and we can’t let him become…” I couldn’t even say it. What would it take to turn Alexander into his father? Had he already?

  “Then, we won’t,” Edward promised. He pushed to his feet and held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  “But I still don’t know what to do with her room.” I let him help me since getting to my feet was becoming a bit more of a task these days.

  “Leave it,” he said.

  “But—”

  “There are, what, a million rooms in this place?” He said. “You don’t want her on the same floor as you two. You’ll scar her with all the noise you two make.”

  “Hey!” I smacked him on the shoulder.

  “I speak only truth.” He held up his hand. “You two are like animals. It gives the rest of us inferiority complexes. Besides, I’ve been dying to burn down my grandmother’s suite for years.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll settle for redecorating it,” he reassured me. “It will give her space and piss Queen Mother Mary off.”

  “So it’s a win-win?”

  This time
his answering smile was blinding. “Isn’t diplomacy fun?”

  Chapter 10

  Alexander

  The new secretary was a nervous thing, scampering in and out of the offices like a lost mouse. Patience took effort, but since Norris recently told me off for scaring away household staff, I was doing my best. “Yes?”

  “Your Majesty, it’s the Prime Minister.” She dipped into a curtsy, a habit she seemed to be forming.

  “You don’t really have to do that every time…” I waved my hand, realizing it was a lost cause to tell her otherwise. “Take a message.”

  “He’s quite insistent,” she continued, twisting her hands together as if torn between telling the Prime Minister no and questioning my authority.

  “Take a message,” I repeated through a clenched jaw.

  “He did say it’s the third time he’s tried to reach you —”

  “Take a message!” I roared.

  She scuttled out of the room, throwing terrified glances back at me.

  “There goes another one,” Norris commented as he came inside and shut the door. “We’ve posted more job openings in the last two months than the last two years.”

  “They don’t listen.” I settled back in my chair. Maybe it was something wrong with me. My staff didn’t listen. Parliament didn’t listen. My wife didn’t listen. I was the common denominator. “I have wondered if we need so many people working here.”

  “You’ve been thinking,” Norris said. “That’s never a good thing.”

  “Would you prefer I didn’t?”