by Katee Robert
Galen walked into the room and snorted. “And maybe pigs will fly.”
Meg turned in Theo’s arms, and he didn’t need to see her expression to know she was glaring at Galen. “I’m capable of asking for help.”
“Since when?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down. “Was it when you realized it was a smart choice to talk to us instead of going to Noemi fucking Huxley for help? Or maybe it was all those times in the last few months when you admitted you were drowning and reached out?” He raised his eyebrows. “My memory must be faulty because I don’t remember any of that shit happening.”
“Galen,” Theo sank a world of warning into the name.
“No, fuck you with that shit. I’ll get to you in a minute.” He didn’t tear his gaze from Meg’s face. “You’re pissed that we moved on this without you? You shut us out first. You started shutting us out the first time you fucked up at the Consorts’ dinner, and you’ve spent the last six months wedging the door between us farther closed. So don’t fucking play the victim here, Meg. You made the choice, same as we did. It was the wrong choice all around, but you were equal partner in getting us to this point, so you’re damn well going to be equal partner in getting us out of it.”
Meg seemed to wilt in his arms, but he actually felt the moment she decided to step to the line Galen had drawn in the sand. Her spine went to steel and she shrugged out of Theo’s embrace. “Fine. I’ll admit that I need help when you admit you hate being Consort and want your old job as head of security back.”
Theo rocked back on his heels. “What?” He’d known Galen was grappling with the role of Consort, same as Meg, but he hadn’t realized…
He hadn’t realized a lot, apparently.
Meg wasn’t finished, though. She closed the distance between her and Galen and poked him in the chest. “Did you tell Theo that you were miserable? Did you try to find a solution? No need to answer. I know for a fact you didn’t, either. So reconsider throwing stones from that glass house of yours.”
Galen opened his mouth, but Theo got there first. “That’s enough.” He stepped around Meg and positioned himself between them. “If you wanted to be head of security again, why didn’t you just say something?”
“I’m Consort.”
Theo stared, waiting for more, but Galen didn’t seem interested in elaborating. Finally, Theo sighed. “Yes, you are. And?”
“And… I’m Consort. Consort has a specific set of duties. That’s how things work.”
If he didn’t love the man so much, he might actually throttle him. Theo ran his hands over his face. “Galen, we’re already breaking a couple centuries’ worth of tradition by having a royal triad with two Consorts. What is the fucking point of doing this if we’re all so miserable that we’re at each other’s throats?” He held up a hand before either of them could jump in. “This being king and Consorts, not this being our relationship.”
Galen finally looked at him. “You’re serious.”
“Of course I’m fucking serious. I didn’t name you Consort so I could cram the two of you into pre-existing molds. We already broke the damn molds just by existing in public like we do.” He gripped Galen’s shoulders. “Do you want to be head of security again?”
Galen looked away and back, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Yes.”
“Fuck, was that so hard? We’ll make it happen.”
He shook his head. “After. After we get through this.”
He had a point. Theo nodded. “Then it’s time to talk about what that will take.”
Galen shrugged out from beneath his hands. “Not yet.” He moved until he stood nearly shoulder to shoulder with Meg. “You haven’t grieved for your old man, Theo. You haven’t dealt with any of the emotional shit that comes from being back in this place. You think charging forward and dragging us along behind you will solve everything and it fucking won’t.”
He might as well have punched Theo in the face. He took a step back, feeling as if they had him on the ropes. “That’s not fair.”
“It’s truth.” This from Meg. She spoke with half the volume, but her words hit just as hard. “How are we supposed to bare everything when you are keeping important stuff locked away? It’s okay to grieve, Theo. You loved him and he’s gone and then you were hit with exile immediately after. It’s okay to slow down long enough to feel something, even if it hurts.”
Pressure clamped around his chest, a grinding terrible thing that stole his breath and snapped the ties on his control. “I’ll grieve my father when and how I choose to.”
“Fine.” Galen’s glare intensified. “As long as you do it. Stop bottling that shit up, Theo. You’re going to explode and you’re going to take all of us down when you do.”
Meg elbowed him. “What Galen is trying—and failing—to say is that we want you to be happy and we know this is hurting you. Maybe talking about it will help.”
What would talking do? His father was gone, and he’d never really know if his death was caused by poison or nature taking its course. Exhuming the body was out of the question. His position was already precarious enough without someone taking those actions as ones a madman would put into play and using it against Theo. They had already broken tradition in so many ways—the exile, the triad, the number of foreigners in vital positions within the palace. Adding another to the list might be the tipping point they didn’t come back from.
Maybe they shouldn’t come back from it.
“What if we just left?”
Meg looked at him as if he was speaking in tongues. “What are you talking about?”
“What if we left?” He spoke with more confidence this time, the idea taking hold. “Edward is eighteen. He’s got the training—”
“That, right there, proves what we’re saying. God, Theo are you even listening to yourself? You’d rather drop everything and leave than face your past and the bullshit we’re dealing with now. That’s the height of avoidance issues.” She moved around him and picked up her coffee mug. “Did last night mean anything? You said you want a baby, but how the hell am I supposed to take that seriously when you are talking like this?”
He hadn’t forgotten. Of course he hadn’t forgotten. He hadn’t gone into last night planning to lay everything on the table, but now his words were real and so was the need to see Meg pregnant with their child. Fuck. He ran his hands over his face. “This has me messed up.”
“Imagine that.” Despite her sarcastic tone, she was gentle when she wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay to be weak sometimes, Theo. It’s okay not to have the answers. It’s okay to lean on us. We lean on you often enough.”
“When I’m actually there to lean on.” Guilt threatened to choke him.
Meg squeezed him hard. “I know this might be shocking, Theo, but you’re human. We’re all human. That means we screw up sometimes.”
She always did this. She could be as prickly as Galen, as prideful as Theo, but when they reached a breaking point, Meg was the one who held them together. She somehow always knew what to say to soothe the fractured bits of them, sanding the pieces down until they fit comfortably. It wouldn’t be that easy this time but… It helped. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t.
Theo rested his chin on her head and met Galen’s gaze. “I miss him.”
“I know.” Galen picked up Theo’s discarded mug and took a long drink. “He was a good man, and a good father.” He stared down into the dark liquid. “I miss him too, Theo. It’s not the same, but—”
“You were just as much son to him as me or Edward.” It didn’t matter to Theo’s father that Galen was the son of a traitor. He’d only ever judged a person by their actions, never the people connected to them. It was part of what made him such a great man. Theo lifted one arm and motioned Galen closer, and then pulled him into the embrace, sandwiching Meg between them. They stood like that for a long time, and he let their arms around him lend the comfort he hadn’t been able to ask for up to this point.
But eventually, the real world had to intrude.
Theo finally took a long breath and stepped back. “We need to talk about what happens tomorrow.”
Meg hopped onto the counter and reclaimed her coffee, and Galen took up his normal spot leaning against the corner where he could see the entirety of the room. Theo poured a third cup of coffee and passed it to him, and then he had their full attention. He met each of their gazes in turn. “We know Dorian is involved, and we also know that Huxley is involved. Whether Noemi is or not—”
“She’s not.”
Theo shook his head. “Whether or not she has anything to do with your attack remains to be seen. We have to smoke them out, and the only way to do that is to make them think their plans are working so they’ll make their move.”
Understanding dawned in Meg’s hazel eyes. “You want me to leave before they have a chance to escalate.”
“I want you to give the appearance of leaving. Despite the evidence, you’re safer within Thalania than anywhere else at this point. If we sent you back to New York there’s a decent chance Dorian would see you as a loose end that needs to be tied up. Without the full protection our security can offer, you’d be vulnerable.” He picked up his mug and set it back down without drinking. “You were hurt because we made a mistake and were too comfortable. I won’t let that happen again.”
Galen shifted. “Neither of us will.”
“Okay.” Meg tapped her finger against her mug, her gaze going distant. “What reason are you giving the Families for dragging them to the palace on such short notice?”
“Honestly? I was considering calling them out and seeing who reacted.”
She shot him a look. “That’s clumsy and you know it.” Meg considered. “But what if… Okay, hear me out. Noemi doesn’t want to be Consort. She wants to be Head of Family. Her father is planning on naming one of her male cousins.”
“Probably so he can keep her free to slip into your shoes,” Galen muttered.
Theo shook his head. “That might be part of it, but Huxley has never gone to its female descendants. It always passes from male to male.” He had thoughts about that, but one of the key pieces of advice his father had drilled into him during his training was that they had to let the Families operate independently within their own power structures. As long as the scheming and backbiting didn’t spill over to negatively affect Thalania as a whole, it wasn’t the monarch’s place to step in.
“Use this gathering to declare Noemi as Head of House. You’ll rock the rest of them, and you’ll earn her loyalty in one fell swoop, which will cut Huxley off from his power base—the Huxley Family. If he’s out of favor that intensely, no one will touch him. Not even Dorian. And it might be enough to scare some of the people who were waffling on whether or not to support you into falling in line.”
Galen snorted. “It doesn’t work like that. He can’t just wave a magic wand and meddle in Family business. It will backfire and then we’ll have a rebellion on our hands in addition to whatever my father is brewing up.”
“Wait.” Theo lifted a hand, thinking hard. It wouldn’t work exactly how Meg had proposed but… He closed his eyes, recalling the various bits of law that applied to this situation. He couldn’t name Noemi Huxley the Head of Family, but… “If she makes the claim and usurps him, the Crown can support that. We can’t step in with interior power struggles, but if she wins, we can ensure it’s public knowledge that the Royal Triad supports her claim and looks favorably on the Huxley Family with Noemi at the helm.”
Meg nodded. “Let me make a call.” She hopped off the counter and padded out of the room.
“This is risky.”
Theo nodded. “I know. We could be playing right into their hands.”
“Don’t see what other choice we have.”
“Me, either.”
A few minutes later, Meg was back. She gave them a particularly vicious smile. “Noemi’s in. She’s making her move today."
13
The second they were back in the palace, they scattered. Meg had her list of things, Theo needed to iron out some details about the gathering with the Families. Galen went in search of Kozlov. He found him exactly where he expected—in the head of security office. He shut the door and leaned against it. “If your little girlfriend fucks us, I’m going to skin her alive.”
Kozlov barely glanced up from his monitor. “Good evening, Consort. What can I do for you?”
“Eyes on me, Kozlov.”
He snapped to attention, just like he used to when Galen was head of security. I could be again. Never would have dared hope for that shit, but here we are. Galen moved away from the door and kept his voice low and even. “Noemi is making a play for Head of Family today. When the Families converge on us tomorrow morning, there will be chaos if she succeeds.”
“She’ll succeed.”
Galen thought so, too. He’d never had a problem with Noemi leading up to this point. She’d been friends with Theo for a very long time, and she never tried to fuck him over the same way some of the other nobles had attempted from time to time. But she was a noble, and that made her untrustworthy. He’d spent too long living in his father’s household not to understand how power bred contempt for anyone and anything less powerful. Noemi Huxley had been born into a charmed life, and having an asshole traitor of a father didn’t change that fact. She might be offering a hand of friendship to Meg, she might even like Meg, but if Meg wasn’t a Consort, Noemi wouldn’t have given her the time of day.
They sure as fuck wouldn’t have been holed up in Huxley’s rooms watching movies the same way they had been the day before.
Even thinking about it, knowing exactly how vulnerable Meg had been, made him want to punch something.
He hadn’t been able to indulge in that kind of destructive outlet for nearly twenty years. Ever since he’d come to the palace after his father’s exile. Even with Theo’s friendship, Galen had always been aware that he was one wrong move away from being turned out onto the street. Theo’s father wouldn’t have liked doing it—he was as good a man as a king could be—but he always put his country first. What did one life compare when it came to millions in the balance?
“Galen.” Kozlov’s deep voice dragged him out of the past. The giant of a man studied him. “Noemi has wanted Head of Family since she was a little girl, and she’ll do anything to preserve her Family, especially if her father is a traitor. I know you don’t trust her—it’s not how you operate—but if she has the assurance of the King that she’ll have royal support after she makes her move, she won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
Kozlov’s words told him all he needed to know. The man and Noemi had been fucking for years, but they were too good at keeping things under wraps in public for Galen to ever fully determine whether it was just a physical connection or if it went deeper.
If she’d told Kozlov about her plans… if he spoke about her with that tone of voice…
Yeah, the fool was head over heels in love with her.
“She’ll leave you.” Even as he spoke, he cursed himself for edging the conversation out of safer waters. But he liked Kozlov, and if the man didn’t know what lay in wait for his relationship with Noemi, then someone had goddamn well better warn him. While Theo could do whatever the hell he pleased when it came to naming Consorts and giving the middle finger to tradition, the first female Head of Family for Huxley couldn’t. Her enemies within the Family would be watching her every move, waiting for one misstep to cut her legs out from under her. Trying to be with someone like Isaac Kozlov—a man who was only half Thalanian and whose loyalty lay with the King and the King alone… They would crucify her.
Kozlov turned back to his computer. “She already has.”
Well, fuck.
He shot a look at the door, but finally turned away from his escape route. “I’m sorry.”
Kozlov sighed. “With all due respect, I don’t want to talk about it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, t
ook several deep breaths, and lifted his head. “Would you like to see the security plans for tomorrow?”
He could push for more, but Galen had never been all that good at comforting, and he’d no doubt fuck it up if Kozlov lost his mind and confessed his feelings. Better for both of them to keep this conversation safely in the professional realm going forward. “Yeah.”
Kozlov cleared his throat. “You’re sure about the circus today? It’s a bold move.”
He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Theo’s plan hinged on so many moving parts that it made Galen’s head hurt. He didn’t like these kinds of games. The danger came from unknown factors and if it was just Galen… But it was never just Galen taking the risks. Theo and Meg would be right there alongside him, and they were arguably in more danger than he was.
He’d never felt so ineffectual in his entire fucking life, but Galen couldn’t follow through on any of the things his instincts were screaming at him to do. He couldn’t toss Theo and Meg into a van and haul ass away from this mess. It would still be there when they got back. Even if they left like Theo had talked about this morning, trouble would just follow them. As long as Meg and Galen were alive and Theo was King of Thalania, Theo would be determined to keep them in the Consort position. If Theo wasn’t king, it would be the exile all over again with his enemies needing him dead to ensure they remained in power.
No, there was no way out but through.
He had to trust that Theo knew what he was doing, had to trust the plan that depended on deceit and playacting, rather than hauling Huxley and Galen’s old man into a room and punching until they got some answers.
He could do it.
He would fucking do it.
Galen met Kozlov’s gaze steadily. “I’m sure. Show me the plans.”
Meg carefully applied makeup over her mostly-faded bruise. Her head still ached in the evenings, but that had as much to do with stress as with the putrid yellow color spiraling out from the side of her face. It’d be gone in another week or so. This conflict would be over by then, for better or worse. She looked over as the door opened and Theo walked in. He and Galen had been running around all day in hushed meeting after hushed meeting to get things set up for tonight, but they’d both been sending regular texts to update her.