7. “Fight Song” - Rachel Platten
“Fight Song” - Rachel Platten
The thing most people don’t realize about royals is that we’re actually quite normal. We bleed red, we don’t like Brussels sprouts, and we get bored during three-hour-long dinners. This particular one happens to be my first since the accident, and you’d think that would make it more interesting.
It doesn’t.
The best thing that happens is the serving of the b?che de Noel, which I haven’t had since last Christmas.
The worst is discovering Henry at the table, something Maisie conveniently forgot to warn me about.
He’s wearing a navy-blue suit expertly tailored to his body, and I can’t deny that the sight makes my blood charge through my veins like a herd of stampeding cattle.
I take it easy on my heart and keep my eyes directed elsewhere.
The meal proceeds as usual: three hours of footmen bringing dishes to the table while everyone watches me as though I’m the queen or something.
With each dish, the rule is that as soon as I set down my fork, the course is over, which causes more anxiety than you might think.
I pay close attention to everyone else’s plate and wait until it appears they have all finished.
I’ve never been a slow eater, so this is absolute torture.
At my first state dinner, I got so lost in trying to do all the right things that I forgot to pace myself and finished my soup in less than five minutes.
Some people hadn’t taken more than two bites.
So far tonight, things are going swimmingly, and by that I mean that no one has asked me anything I don’t know how to answer, there’s only one course left to be served, and I’ve almost forgotten my ex-husband is at the table.
But this, of course, can’t possibly last.
Lady Crawford leans forward from her spot a few seats down from me, breaking protocol by speaking over the person on her left. “Your Majesty, is it true you’ll be giving a speech at that memorial downtown next week?”
I nod. “It’s an important cause.”
“It’s such a shame that all the hard work you did to eradicate that nasty business was all undone,” she says, taking a sip of her wine.
We now have the attention of the whole table. I’m no fool—I know they’re all waiting to hear how I will respond to this subtle affront. I can feel my mother’s eyes boring into me, entreating me to remember everything she’s taught me about poise and self-restraint.
I force a smile onto my lips. “I like to think things would be even worse if it wasn’t for the steps taken earlier this year.”
“Yes,” Lady Crawford croons. “One must find comfort where one can.”
Three hours after it started, the dinner is over, the guests have all left, and I’m free to meet Maisie to wrap up the speech she’s helping me write for the memorial. Normally I’d leave it to the communications team, but this one needs to be perfect.
I’m heading down the corridor that leads to the staircase when I hear footsteps behind me.
I turn when they pick up speed. Henry is following me, and I suddenly feel like I’m trapped in a dark alley.
I’d rather talk to Lady Crawford again. Outwalking him is impossible, thanks to the long evening gown and heels I’m wearing, but like an idiot, I try anyway.
He catches up to me in five stupidly long strides, but I ignore him and keep moving toward my office. “C, I need to talk to you,” he says, keeping up without any effort at all.
“I thought I told you to stay away from me,” I say without breaking stride.
“You’re not going to that memorial.”
I halt abruptly. “I’m sorry. It sounded like you just tried to tell me what to do.”
“You heard me. It’s far too dangerous,” he says.
“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re talking to the queen. You can’t lock me in a tower for the next fifty years in case I stub my toe.”
“I would if I thought you’d let me,” he mutters, then moves closer, his hands on his hips. I take a step backward. “We’re talking about much more than a stubbed toe. If I let you go, you may never come back.”
“If you let me go?” I let out a high-pitched laugh.
“I’m in charge of your security, Celia.”
I wave him off. “You’re being paranoid, and it’s stifling.”
“Someone wants you dead, and you’re calling me stifling?”
“You don’t know anyone is after me. What would they possibly stand to gain?”
“There are a million possibilities. I’d prefer to learn which one it is before they try something, not after,” he spits out.
“How about you work on figuring that out, while I do my job as queen?” I spin away from him and resume my trek as fast as my heels will allow.
When I get to my office, Maisie is already waiting for me, and she jumps when I burst through the door, Henry right behind me.
“Sorry I’m so late,” I say.
She shakes her head, a confused look on her face. “No worries. Um, aren’t we working on your speech tonight?”
“Yes, why?”
“Is he helping us?”
“Who?”
Sighing dramatically, she tucks a strand of hair back into her braid. “And here’s me thinking we could go back to using his name.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I sink into my chair and kick my heels off under the desk.
“What are you two doing? It’s nearly midnight.” Henry directs this question at Maisie.
She shrugs and scoots her glasses back up her nose. “This is pretty normal.”
I didn’t think he could get any madder, but that comment seems to have done the trick. “Normal? She just got out of the hospital.”
“Try telling her that,” Maisie mutters under her breath.
“As you can see, she’s ignoring me,” Henry says. “Any recommendations?”
“Switching her latte flavor usually penetrates that armor.”
“You’re both children,” I growl. “Maisie, you can kiss your job goodbye if you ever use the word ‘penetrate’ again. And Henry, for the love of god, will you please go away?”
“I’m not leaving until I have your agreement.” He crosses his arms over his chest, and I do my best not to notice the way his jacket strains against his biceps. I’m not entirely successful.
“In that case, enjoy sleeping on the floor. Maisie, let’s get started on the speech.” I keep my focus on my computer screen. Meanwhile, Henry’s eyes are burning a hole through my dress.
“Don’t bother. You won’t be needing the damn thing.” He leans over my desk and fills my field of vision until I have no choice but to look at him.
I lean back in my chair to put as much distance between us as possible. “What do I have to say to make you leave?”
“Simple. Five words.” He ticks them off on his fingers as he says them. “I. Won’t. Attend. The. Memorial.”
“Ha. Try again.”
“Celia, I’m dead serious. You’re not going.”
“The fact that you think you can march in here and tell me what to do is actually kind of sad,” I say. “Maybe you should see someone.”
“I am bound by law to make decisions concerning your security.”
“It’s your own security you should be concerned about, because I’m about to kill you with my bare hands.”
He smirks. “As much as I relish the thought of your hands on me, it’s going to have to wait for another time.”
I slug his shoulder with as much force as I can, but it probably hurts me worse than it does him, because that sucker is hard.
Maisie pipes up. “God, are you two always like this?” I’d forgotten she was even in the room.
We both ignore her, preferring to nail each other with murderous glares instead.
“Okay, why don’t we talk about this? We can sit down, I can get some coffee, and we’ll discuss it like adults,” she says.
“This isn’t a mediation, Maisie,” I snap. “I’m going to that memorial, and I am giving a speech.”
“You would do that to your country?” Henry says.
“I’m doing it for my country.”
He scoffs. “You’re useless to them if you’re dead.”
“You really think it’s that serious?” Maisie asks.
He tears his gaze from me long enough to say, “Yeah, I think it is. The square downtown would be nearly impossible to secure. It’s surrounded by not only crowds, but buildings, windows, and doors in all directions.”
“It’s the perfect location for drawing a lot of attention,” I say.
“It’s also the perfect location for a shooting—or god knows what else.”
Maisie belatedly covers her mouth to hide the gasp that just slipped out. “A shooting? In that case, maybe—”
“I cannot believe this.” I swivel toward her. “Are you seriously taking his side?”
“It’s not about taking sides!” she says. “But if you’re in danger . . .”
“I won’t be. It’s ludicrous, based on nothing but a bunch of theories and zero proof.”
“C, I told you.” Henry leans closer, until his face is only inches from mine. I can almost taste the spearmint on his breath. “I’m 99 percent positive that was no accident.” His eyes beg me to believe him.
“Ah, yes, but what about that pesky 1 percent?”
He pushes away from the desk and mutters fuck under his breath.
“Celia, do you really think it’s a good idea? What if he’s right? What if something happens to you?” Maisie says.
I shift my glare from Henry’s anger-strained back to her wide-eyed face. “And if I don’t go, how many children will die this month? How can I value my own life over theirs?”
“That’s hardly a fair compari—”
“Of course it’s not,” Henry interrupts. “But she’s determined to be a fucking martyr.”
“Maisie, would you please call security to have him removed?” I say, before remembering that the entire team answers to his rotten ass.
“I wouldn’t bother,” he says to Maisie with a wink. “But if you wouldn’t mind giving us a few minutes of privacy, I would be very grateful.”
Dread crawls up my spine. Maisie is only too happy to acquiesce, and she’s gone before I can get out the words to stop her.
Henry circles the desk and crouches in front of my chair. He places a hand on each armrest, and the delicious heat of him seeps through my clothes. My brain is screaming, Danger! Wolf!
“We can find a different way. Please trust me on this, C.”
I drop his gaze. “I’ll never trust you again.”
“I know I hurt you,” he says, “and I don’t expect you to forgive me for that. But this is your life we’re talking about.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.” My hands long to trace the muscles outlined by his shirt. I clench them into fists. Wolves bite, I remind myself.
“Celia, I’m not asking.” The steel in his voice scrapes against my skin like the flat side of a razor.
My defenses are crumbling. I can feel them toppling brick by brick. Everything would be so much easier if I just surrendered—until the moment he decided to break my heart again. And I don’t know if I’d be able to get back up next time.
I swallow the gigantic lump in my throat and say quietly, “May I remind you that we don’t have the kind of relationship where you’re entitled to give input on what I do?”
Henry drops his arms and stands up. “Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?” His voice is raw and pained.
The sultry tension in the air is replaced by an electric hum. I lift my chin. “Absolutely not. I’m not backing down on this. It’s too important.”
“As if your life isn’t.”
“Henry, you don’t even know if there’s a threat.”
“By the time we confirm there is one, it may be too late,” he hisses.
He stalks back to the center of the room, frustration rolling off him with every step as he paces.
After a few minutes, he turns back to me.
“Since you’re determined to be completely unreasonable about this, I’ll make you a deal. ”
The nerves along my spine stand up straighter. “The last time I made a deal with you, I wished I’d made one with the devil instead.” The memory of that kiss still has the power to make me flush, which it is happily demonstrating right now.
“Well, don’t worry. I won’t require your soul for this.” His gaze lands on my lips. Apparently, he hasn’t forgotten either.
“What do you want, then?”
“Change the venue to the palace.”
I consider this for a moment. “Why?”
“There’s plenty of room in the back gardens for a stage and a crowd, and it will actually be possible to secure the area.”
My mind whirls as I think about everything it would take make it happen. The memorial is less than a week away. But if it gets Henry off my back, I’ll work around the clock if I need to. “Fine. Deal.”
“That’s not all,” he says. “If you do this, I’m going to be in your security detail, all up in your business and happy to use my hands to accomplish whatever needs to be done.”
My jaw clenches at the insinuation, and my temperature rises for the same reason. “I’m used to that kind of treatment already. It doesn’t matter who it’s coming from.”
Henry blinks and takes a tiny step backward. “Sounds like we have a deal.”
“Sounds like I’m still getting my way and you’re just coming along for the ride.”