Chapter 34 Bribery #2
I take a sip of tea and promise myself that the next time I corner a politician, I’ll plan the beverage situation better.
“You’re hiding because there’s nothing more socially contemptible than someone who knows he’s not good enough for the company he keeps.
Do you think they can smell the desperation?
” He can smell it. That’s why he went to such lengths to conceal his locations.
That’s why he couldn’t approach the Stennums with a direct bribe, cloaking his meetings with Valdemar behind the less humiliating veneer of political back-slapping.
That’s why his eyes shift uneasily. He wants to hide, even now.
He hates this—being seen for what he is—and I let him twist in the sensation for a few moments.
I’m human and schadenfreude is delicious, but that’s not why I’m here. I take a card from my clutch—more adult than a paper torn from a BLUSH notebook, removed from a Roar’s Mansion backpack—and scrawl on the back of it.
“When you threatened my mother’s children, this,” I point at him, “is exactly how she felt. She can be difficult. She’s ruthless and hard-edged.
She buries her virtues under layers of protocol and duty, but she won’t make deals that target her children.
She will never let what happened with Freja happen again. ”
He sputters. I would have loved it if it had been bribery or an affair—I would have tossed the information to the press and relevant government oversight bodies without a second thought—but people are complicated.
Even terrible prime ministers are allowed to love their children, and I won’t turn them into pawns.
I am my mother’s daughter.
I pass the card across the table, and he turns it over to find Jeneke Stennum’s private number.
“Whether it comes with my personal recommendation is up to you,” I say.
“Your poll numbers are tanking this week because it looks like you ran a vulnerable young mother-to-be out of her job. My offers don’t get better from here. ”
He flicks the corner of the card with the pad of his thumb, his face a war of emotions. “What do you want?”
“I want your support for the monarchy.”
His mouth sets. “Does that require my resignation?”
He might do it, if pushed. I’ve seen the embargoed pictures—those girls are his sun and moon. But I close my eyes and mentally chant telehealth portals, telehealth portals, telehealth portals.
“You’re fortunate my sister is content to leave behind the life of a working royal,” I say.
He releases a thread of air. “But?” He’s not new at the negotiating table.
“You’re going to leave our family out of your politics.
You’re going to stop speaking as though Oskar Velasquez has damaged the purity of Sondmark, and that a few thousand immigrants are a boot to shove your children down the social ladder.
” I take a breath. Freja doesn’t need my help, but I am in a position to help the people she loves.
“I understand that there are debates worth having about all of these topics—and that it is my duty to stay out of them—but you’re going to propose a fixed citizenship test with clear, understandable rules.
Make it as difficult as you want, but stop moving the target. ”
“What’s the catch?” he asks, wary.
The Ella I once was would have staged a public takedown, embroiling her family in weeks of drama and weakening the monarchy.
The Ella I’ve become this spring makes a more strategic choice.
My deal is inspired by Marc. Everybody wins.
Rivals become allies. “No catch,” I assure him.
“As long as you keep this from my family, we can both leave this room with what we want.”
He uhms and ohms, but in the end we shake on it. His daughters are Saint Sissela girls now. They are under my protection forever.
I catch glimpses of Marc on public access television during this time, entering the Grousehof in his parliamentary robes on business I can’t guess at. When he doesn’t have to keep running home to see me, I suppose he has loads of time for extracurriculars. The sight of him makes my heart hurt.
Clara and Alma, possibly noticing that something is off, take me running—which is about the meanest thing they could think of.
Worse, it doesn’t even keep my mind off Marc.
I think about how he would have made me climb onto his back a couple of kilometers in and jogged me up to my suite and told me how brave I am in between giving me kisses.
It’s three days before Alix’s wedding when I corner Caroline in her office, desperate for some occupation. “Are you in trouble,” I bump my chin at my mother’s door, “since your brother admitted to leaking the photos of Alma off your phone?”
Her lips press. “She knows it was really you because of the prime minister.”
“Yeah, but I’ve not been—” I slice a thumb across my neck. “Why?”
Caroline lifts her palm. “She asked me if you knew Linus, if he had a drug problem, and if you two were…seeing each other.” Her lips twitch with a barely-suppressed smile. “I told her she had nothing to worry about on that score.”
“They’re talking about you in the press,” I whisper. Caroline isn’t important enough to be a headline on the front page, but the social columns are full of items like, “The Queen’s Right Hand,” “The Power Behind the Throne,” and “What Else is on Vrouw Tiele’s Phone?”
She waves her hand. “They’ll move on to somebody more captivating.”
“We all have reasons to pray that Noah will get serious about somebody,” I smile.
I hear my mother clear her throat with a tiny cough, and I just about leap out of my skin.
From the doorway, she beckons me into her office, and I take my spot on the carpet while she leans against the front of her desk.
She tells me I’ve been endangering the monarchy, and that I’ve been irresponsible when it comes to my online activities.
She tries to put some of her old bluster into it, but it rings hollow.
“The gamer…name?” she says.
“Tag,” I supply.
“The gamer tag is dead, and you’re suspended from social media until further notice. A member of staff will run your account until you rediscover what little sense you were born with. Have I made myself clear?”
It’s adorable, really. I can’t take any of this Queen Helena wielding a bloody sword stuff seriously anymore. I know I am her precious child. I know that sword will be turned on my enemies. I nod and give her a big squeeze she isn’t entirely comfortable with. “Sure thing.”
I return to my suite, but there’s a lump in my throat and my chest feels hollowed out. It feels like grief. I don’t know why. Torbald has been neutralized, my mother has let me off with the smallest rebuke, and I have taken on my royal role with a new sense of purpose and determination.
A tear slips down my cheek.
Things have never been better.