NICHOLAS
THE CORONATION COAT was too damn heavy—that was my first thought as the tailor placed it on my shoulders—but considering the current state of my life, it barely registered on the list of things to care about.
It was magnificent, though: midnight-blue velvet with silver embroidery that climbed up the lapels and cuffs in intricate vines and laurel leaves, and at the collar, polished sapphires.
Beneath it, an ivory brocade waistcoat, woven with an understated damask pattern and buttoned over a crisp white shirt.
The ceremonial mantle fell from my shoulders, cascading nearly to the ground in rich folds of blue velvet.
Centuries of Valemont kings had worn a similar version of this, and every stitch held meaning. Every detail had been approved by the coronation committee and was now being adjusted by the tailors who circled me with pins and measuring tape while I stood silent and still.
This was what I knew, though. It was familiar, letting people dress me, measure me, prepare me for the role I’d been born for.
King.
The word felt heavier than the coat.
“Raise your arm, please, Your Majesty,” the head tailor said, and I obeyed as my mind wandered, even as Gilbert and other staff stood off to the side watching and conversing about God knows what. Probably which angle would suit me best as I took the oath.
I stifled a sigh and stared straight ahead at the mirror, where a king looked back. Not Nicholas. Not the man Noah had loved. Just a hollow shell of a human who looked perfectly composed on the outside but was self-destructing on the inside.
If Noah were here, he would’ve noticed straight away. He would’ve also noticed my uneaten breakfast trays the last couple of weeks, the shadows under my eyes that he’d always softly caressed if I’d had a particularly stressful day.
But Noah was not here. He’d left me, left the palace, and I had no doubt that after the way I’d behaved, I’d never see him again.
Part of me wondered if I’d made a mistake in not ordering him to stay.
He would’ve hated me for it, but at least he would’ve been here.
Instead, I’d let him go, watched him leave from the throne room window, and my heart had been wrenched in two—not that anyone else knew or cared.
Only minutes after he’d left, I was forced into a meeting, the duties of the crown not stopping for my grief.
“Your Majesty?”
I blinked and looked at the tailor. “Yes?”
“Does the collar feel restrictive?”
“Yes,” I said, even though I probably should’ve kept that to myself, because a flicker of alarm crossed his eyes and he began to mess with the collar.
“We can loosen it—” he started, but I waved him off.
“No. It’s fine.”
The collar wasn’t why I felt like I was choking. No amount of loosening the material would fix that.
The door opened behind me, and I didn’t have to look to know who it was. Only one person in the palace burst through doors unannounced, without waiting for an invitation.
Gabriel strolled inside and let out a low whistle. “Looking very distinguished, Your Majesty.”
My eyes trailed down over him in the mirror. He wasn’t wearing a tie or a jacket, looking far too informal for the busy day ahead when he’d need to look the part of a prince. “I wish I could say the same for you. What made you forget to finish dressing this morning?”
“Not all of us have to look so regal.” He stopped beside Gilbert and glanced at the tablet in the man’s hands, then up to me. “Everyone out.”
Gilbert blinked. “Sir?”
“I said, everyone out.”
“But…this is the king’s fitting,” he sputtered.
“Yes, thank you, Gilbert. I guessed that from the miserable expression and the hundred pounds of velvet he’s wearing. Out.”
Everyone in the room looked at me for confirmation, and when I didn’t say a word, that was enough. They all left, one by one, the tailors gathering up their pins and measuring tape.
Only Gilbert lingered in the doorway, his eyes going back to his tablet. “Your Majesty, don’t forget you have a meeting at—”
“Yes, yes, he knows,” Gabriel said, and shut the door in his face.
Then we were alone, just my brother and me. He crossed his arms and walked to where I stood on the platform. He circled me, looking me over slowly.
“Very royal. Very…blue.”
He’d get to the point eventually.
“Very dead inside.”
My eyes flicked to his in the mirror, and he stopped beside me and nodded.
“There he is.”
Irritation surged through me, and I turned away from my reflection. “If you came to insult the coronation attire, you could’ve done that with an audience.”
“I came because Baxter told me you haven’t been sleeping.”
“Baxter should learn to mind his own household.”
“He is. Unfortunately, you’re in it.”
I narrowed my eyes and stepped down from the platform to brush by him. “If that’s all, I’m busy.”
“Oh, please. You’re standing like a mannequin while a bunch of people stab you with pins. That’s the opposite of busy. I bet not one of them has told you you’re wasting away.”
“I’m not wasting away.”
Gabriel snorted. “Liar. I bet if I tried on your pants right now they’d have to let them out, and we all know I’m looking handsome as ever, so the problem’s not me.”
I reached for the clasp at my throat to unfasten it, but it was layered with chains and sapphires, and I couldn’t get it undone fast enough.
Gabriel came over and pushed my hands aside. “Let me.”
“I can do it.”
“I know. That’s always been the problem.”
He unfastened the clasp, and when the cape loosened, I could breathe again.
Gabriel took it from me and draped it over the custom valet stand that had been built strong enough to hold the heavy garment.
“So, you want to tell me why you’re skipping meals and barking at everyone within a two-mile radius of your royal self, or do you want me to guess?”
“I want you to go away. Why isn’t that an option?”
“Because then you’d be left with nothing to do in life but rattle around in this drafty old palace with your chains.”
I looked around the polished marble floors and ceilings, then back to my pain-in-the-ass brother. “Yes, it’s so drafty and old.”
Gabriel swiped his hand through the air. “Eh, you get the idea.”
Yes, I did. I was going to grow old and miserable—more miserable—over time if I didn’t work out how to shake this dark cloud following me around.
It wasn’t that I was unaware I’d been acting like a miserable human, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to help it.
It was as if my happiness had been ripped away the day Noah had left—and in a sense, it had.
He’d been the one person I looked forward to seeing every morning and night, and now that I didn’t have him, I was lost.
“Look—” Gabriel started, but I held up a hand.
“Let me stop you right there. I’ve got a thousand things that need to be done over the next few days, and listening to you tell me what an ogre I’m being is currently at the bottom of that list. So if you don’t have anything helpful to contribute to all this hoopla, well, there’s the door.”
I pointed across the room, but Gabriel just crossed his arms and gave me a long, slow once-over.
“Is this where I’m supposed to follow your orders, Your Majesty? Or leave out of respect? Because if that’s the case, you’ve got the wrong guy. We’re going to talk about this surly attitude of yours whether you like it or not. So sit.”
He pointed to the throne, and I arched a brow. “You did not just tell me to sit like a dog on my throne.”
“Oh it’s your throne now, is it? You’ve been so opposed to it lately that I wasn’t sure you still wanted to claim it.”
“Gabriel—”
“Growl all you like. You’re not getting rid of me.”
I took in a deep breath, and when it was clear the stubborn ass was going nowhere, I gritted my teeth and walked up onto the dais to take my place on the throne.
The same place I’d been sitting when I sent Noah away.
“He’s gone.” Gabriel didn’t have to say whom. “You said you were dealing with it.”
“I am.”
“Not very well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not living up to your expectations?”
“Quite frankly, no. But who cares about those? What about your own expectations?” Gabriel cocked his head.
“For a while there I thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d run things differently to the way Father did—that you’d be more open, more accessible to the people, maybe offer a smile here or there like you did on the tour—but it seems that was wishful thinking on my behalf, if your attitude lately has been anything to go by. ”
He was right. But I still went on the defensive. “I can’t be expected to be all smiles, all the time.”
“You can’t even be expected to be one smile, one time, lately.” Gabriel shook his head. “You’re scaring the staff.”
I let out a sigh and leaned back in the throne. A headache was forming behind my eyes. “I don’t know how to get out of it.”
“What?”
“This…this funk I’m in.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m aware I have not exactly been the nicest person to be around lately—”
Gabriel snorted, and I glared at him.
“—but I don’t know how to get over it. Get over him.”
I closed my eyes and pictured Noah’s face: his soft hazel eyes, his smiling mouth, the lighter strands of hair that threaded through his thick brown waves.
“Who says you have to get over him?”
I opened my eyes to see Gabriel looking at me, brow arched. “I’m betrothed to another man. Not to mention, I’m the king and he’s—”
“A mere mortal, yes, yes, I’m aware. There are rules and protocols, traditions handed down for centuries.
One of which stated you were supposed to marry a female and have a son.
If the poor firstborn was a girl, whoops, she went missing.
Both of these archaic mindsets were replaced, history changed.
So why is the thought of a royal and a commoner any different? ”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Not the last time I checked. But you might be.” Gabriel walked up the stairs of the dais until he was directly in front of me. “Why are you making this so hard on yourself, brother?”
My heart thundered as I stared up at my twin, wondering if I could do what he was suggesting, wanting to do it with every fiber of my being.
But when I merely stared at him, Gabriel’s lips lifted in a crooked smile.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes,” I said without any thought.
“Then I think you need to go and change history, don’t you?”
I couldn’t do that…could I? Just decide to buck tradition and follow my heart instead? Marry whom I wanted and not whom I was told?
Why hadn’t I considered that before? It felt like a rebellious act that Gabriel would follow through on, not me. I’d always followed the rules, done what had been asked of me.
But what if I didn’t have to give Noah up? What if I decided being with him was worth the ramifications? I’d spent all this time telling him I was the king, but what good was being the king if I couldn’t rule beside the one man who made me better?
Just imagining it made a weight lift off my shoulders and hope spark in my chest.
Was I really going to do this?
The answer was as simple as it was complicated, but nothing worth fighting for was ever easy.
I pushed to my feet and took hold of Gabriel’s hands with my silent request, and he nodded.
“I’ve got you.”
I pulled him into a hug and thumped him on the back. “Thank you, brother.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He grinned as we pulled apart. “You just need to swap clothes with me.”
I clapped him on the shoulder and, after a quick change, headed toward the double doors. Gabriel called out, “Side door! Take the side door. No one will see you.”
Then I disappeared out the side door.