Chapter 63
Sixty-three
Edwin
I stood there watching James’s profile, and never in my life had I been so appalled.
I’d known these two were not the best of parents, but I’d never imagined they would undermine everything James had done—for the good of this country, no less!—just to protect Victor. I supposed a parent’s love was so blindly loyal they would sacrifice whatever necessary to protect the child.
Only Victor wasn’t a fucking child anymore.
And James didn’t deserve this treatment.
For a moment, I stood frozen in place, not sure what to do. James’s expression was a rictus of indecision. I didn’t know what decision he’d make.
No, rather, I feared I knew.
I knew for a fact how much James loved this country, these people.
He’d sacrificed himself once already to protect it.
His love and devotion to this place wasn’t in question.
I also knew how much he loved King’s Paper.
More than an asset, it was like his child, something he’d built with his own hands.
I couldn’t imagine the pain he felt, facing the prospect of losing it all.
Plan B meant exile, yes, but he’d never intended to let go of King’s Paper.
In that moment, I hated Patrick and Beatrice with every fiber of my being.
How dare they do this to him. The one child who had bent over backward to be good to them, and yet the second things looked rough, they threw him overboard and demanded he smile while he went sailing into those inky depths.
I’d strangle them both if it wouldn’t land me on the gallows.
James’s jaw flexed, his hands curling into fists, and the pain on his face was breathtaking. I doubted they’d let him walk away and think about it, either, because they wanted to pressure him into an agreement now. Force his hand and then force him to stick to it.
But what they demanded was so obscene, so tragic, it felt like a hot iron poker stabbed me in the chest. They didn’t know what they were asking.
This was breaking him.
A whisper of a voice more in my mind than my ear said, Protect him, Edwin.
Protect him.
Because he could not, apparently, protect himself. Not when he knew the cost.
For all that I wanted him to be king, I couldn’t demand he take the throne. Not like this. Making the same choice all over again would destroy him, and simply staying by his side would not be enough. That certainty rang through my bones.
I had let him sacrifice himself in our first life. We’d both paid dearly for it.
I would not let the disastrous mistake play out again.
I handed my book over to Captain Rowan without a word and then walked the distance between myself and James. The silence was incredibly loud, so much so that the soft tread of my shoes against carpet brought everyone’s attention to me.
“Dear heart,” I called softly.
Fear and hesitation writhed across James’s face as he looked up at me. Gutting me would’ve been kinder. What had I done? How did I even begin to make up for pushing him?
“Please don’t ask this of me,” he pleaded in a soft, torn voice.
I gently cradled his face, needing to touch him. “It’s all right, beloved. I won’t. I’m sorry I ever asked you to, and I take it entirely back.”
Relief swept over his face and he slumped, eyes searching mine. “You mean that?”
“I do.” Sweeping my thumbs across his cheeks, I offered, “Plan B?”
He sprung out of his chair, gathering me in a hug strong enough to lift me off my feet entirely, and I embraced him just as fiercely.
I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing him in, knowing my choice would likely invite all sorts of trouble upon our heads.
But I could not bring myself to regret it.
James was my priority, and choosing anything else over him was a mistake I wouldn’t let myself make.
“What the hell,” Beatrice breathed. “You can’t seriously be choosing a commoner over a princess! I allowed you to keep him, and you repay me this way?”
“Ha!” Patrick slammed his hand against the chair before abruptly standing. “Is he the reason why you refuse?”
James let go of me but only a little, keeping me in the circle of one arm so he could address them. “He’s the only reason we had this conversation to begin with. Initially, he was on your side of the argument. Edwin wanted me to be king as well, but even he repudiates your selfish demands.”
I eyed the door, wondering how to make a clean break. I wasn’t sure why James still argued with them, but he was clearly up to something. Maybe he was just too mad to leave and wanted to yell at them. Understandable. I wanted to yell at them, too.
Beatrice looked me over like I was something she’d just spied stuck to her shoe. “So, because you want him yourself, you reject Valentina?”
“I would have stayed by his side all throughout a political marriage,” I said calmly. Even if my heart was in my throat. Seeing her falter, I pressed the point. “I told him this. It didn’t make him happy. It’s me he wants to marry, but he knows very well I’d never leave him.”
“That I do,” James murmured with a happy smile.
I kept talking, trying to get my point across. “But what you’re doing is insane. You’re breaking the very man you’re trying to use. By threats and guilt trips, no less, which is so utterly disdainful. Princess Valentina? Really? That alone tells me your judgement is atrocious.”
James threw his head back on a laugh. “Indeed, I couldn’t have put it better myself.
You’re trying to force me into an engagement with a child, before you even speak with her parents!
You’re rushing when you should be asking questions.
Threatening me just because you’re not getting your way is also incredibly immature.
I see where Victor gets his bad habits from. ”
Beatrice turned so red she was almost purple, a mix of anger and embarrassment, and she threw her head to the side with an audible sniff, refusing to engage.
Patrick’s eyes narrowed in shrewd thought. “So you want him to be king?”
“Not at the price you’ve set,” I said bluntly. I couldn’t believe I was facing off with my own monarchs, but apparently, for James, I’d do a great many things I’d never dreamed of doing. “I’ll happily follow this man into exile before allowing him to suffer your current terms.”
“He’s not bluffing,” James said cheerfully, practically glowing with joy. “Nothing is more important than Edwin and keeping myself away from Valentina. I’ll even sacrifice King’s Paper to avoid that fate. So choose your next words wisely.”
Patrick remained silent for long seconds, jaw clenching and unclenching before he gritted out, “Name the terms.”
His wife snapped back into the conversation, nearly vibrating with outrage. “Patrick!”
“Shut up,” he hissed. “We’ve got precisely ten seconds to convince James. We do not have the leverage over him we thought we had.”
Damn right you don’t. I would not leave him at your mercy. You had none to give.
I met James’s eyes, a question in my own.
Was this really all right, what I was about to propose?
I’d meant it—we could really do plan B. It would cost both of us, as I’d likely never see my family face-to-face again with us in exile, and of course Paradise would be completely lost to us.
We’d have to try again in the next incarnation. But I was willing to do it.
Still, Vuheia had prompted me, nudged me forward, and she’d rarely spoken to me directly.
The breathtaking knowledge that this was my Task, to protect and guide James into a better future, settled around my shoulders like a mantle I’d happily wear till the end of time.
Resolution electrified my veins, and it felt like the whole world paused with bated breath.
James leaned in to whisper near my ear, “Speak. You heard Vuheia, didn’t you?”
So, he’d either sensed her or guessed. I nodded and he smiled, eyes filled with trust. He dropped a kiss against my forehead before looking back at the waiting monarchs.
I turned my own attention back to them, though I’d keep a weather eye on James as I spoke.
Just in case these terms weren’t something he could live with.
“The terms are these: You will transfer the throne over to him today. All authority, keeping none for yourself. You will no longer interfere with your children nor have any say in their lives. You will move from this palace, leave politics, and retire somewhere far from here. The issue of James’s spouse is also wholly up to his discretion.
Victor goes back into exile or is deported from the country with no chance of reinstatement.
This will need to be in contract and notarized by a judge. ”
James slowly nodded, green eyes alight with a fire and determination I knew well. Oh, phew, he liked what I’d said. That was half the battle. I wouldn’t force him into something he couldn’t agree to.
When he spoke, his words rang with his normal commanding presence. “Agreed. Hand me all power and control, leave so your influence doesn’t impact my reign, and don’t even consider matchmaking for your children—or myself. Honor those three things, and I’ll take the throne.”
Dead silence.
With her fan, Beatrice prodded her spouse’s arm. “You’re not seriously considering this!”
“I am,” he said, eyes still weighing James.
“I’m not walking out of here without ever wielding my power as queen again!”
“It’s that or everything goes to shit. And,” Patrick tacked on with a bit of a sneer directed at his wife, “he’s right about your matchmaking skills. They’re rather horrible.”
She let out a short, high-pitched scream before stomping off then coming back, anger setting her off like a tea kettle. “But Valentina!”