Chapter 37
LOUIS
This means one of two things. Either he’s been made aware of the entire situation my mother created, or he’s not doing well.
But he has been passive all summer and hasn’t intervened in palace affairs since his diagnosis.
Why now? Maybe because everything is a total shit show.
It’s impossible to ignore if the palace is giving statements about what happened.
“Louis”—Addison’s voice cuts through the fog—“what do we do?”
The paparazzi are still across the street, cameras ready, waiting for us to step out of the car. They’ve been here all night, and they’re not leaving without their shot. Whatever we do next, they’re going to capture it.
“We go with them.” I squeeze her hand and keep my voice steady, even though my pulse is racing. “But we do it calmly. The cameras are still watching.”
“Are you sure about this?” Nolan asks, rolling up the window on the royal guards.
It makes me smile. “Yes. Addison, text Kendall and let her know what’s going on right now, so then someone is aware.”
She does what I said without hesitation. Once the message is sent, I open the door and wait for her.
Addison steps out with her camera-ready smile sliding into place like a mask. I follow and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close as we walk toward the SUV. To the photographers across the street, this needs to look like a planned late-night departure. Nothing dramatic.
One of the guards opens the door for her, and she slides in. I follow, lifting my hand in a casual wave to the photographers before the door shuts behind us. The locks click automatically, and the tinted windows block out the flashing lights. The silence is immediate.
“Your phone, Miss Cross,” the guard in the front seat says, reaching his hand out.
She turns it off, then hands it to him. He pockets it.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Teterboro. There’s a plane waiting for us. We’ll leave soon after we arrive, Your Highness.”
I exhale. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
The response doesn’t settle me. The SUV pulls away from the curb. Addison’s fingers find mine in the dark, and neither of us speaks.
My father sent for us.
The thought keeps circling in my mind, and it’s demanding attention that I don’t want to give.
Addison leans close and whispers in my ear, “You’re overthinking.”
“I know,” I say, giving her a small smile.
I can’t get over why my dad would suddenly send guards to New York in the middle of the night unless it was an emergency situation.
Eventually, we stop in front of a private hangar at the airport, where a jet waits on the tarmac with the Montclaire crest on the tail and engines already running.
Another SUV pulls up behind us, and Davis steps out with two guards at his back. His jaw is set, but his posture stays controlled as he falls into step beside us on the tarmac.
“These arseholes pulled me out of the theater,” he says. “Didn’t even let me finish the show.”
“How far did you get?”
“Right before the duel.” He shakes his head as we walk toward the plane. “Waited my whole life for that, and they dragged me out at intermission.”
“Hate to break it to you, but Hamilton dies.”
“I’m aware of the historical record, Your Highness. It’s about the experience.” He glances at the guards flanking us. “So, what’s the situation? Why are we being extradited?”
“My father.” The words feel strange in my mouth because they still don’t make sense. “Beyond that, I don’t know.”
“Uh-oh.”
“My thoughts.”
Davis processes this for a moment, but doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. I’m grateful because I don’t have an answer.
The cabin smells of leather and the faint sweetness of jet fuel. A flight attendant greets us with a smile that meets her eyes, and she gestures toward the seats. The carpet is plush beneath my shoes, and the overhead lights cast everything in an amber glow.
“We’ll depart shortly.”
Addison and I take the seats near the back while Davis settles across the aisle. The guards position themselves at the front of the cabin with their backs to us, giving us the illusion of privacy.
Davis leans toward us and keeps his voice low. “What happens when we land?”
“I don’t know.” And that’s the truth.
If my mother had sent for us, I could have predicted her moves. She’d try her best to separate us forever. But my father is a different equation entirely, one I haven’t ever been able to solve.
“I’m sorry, Davis. Whatever happens, I’ll make sure you’re protected.”
“I knew what I was getting into.” He pulls the Playbill from his back pocket and smooths out the creases. “Besides, I saw most of Hamilton. The trip wasn’t a total waste.”
“I’m indebted to you.”
“Not needed,” he says, grinning. “Was worth it.”
The engines roar louder as we taxi onto the runway. Minutes later, we’re lifting off, and the glittering lights of New York disappear beneath the clouds. It all fades into the Atlantic until there’s nothing but darkness outside the window.
The flight attendant dims the lights, and the cabin settles into a quiet hum of engine noise. Outside the window, there’s nothing but black—no moon, no stars, absolutely nothing. The leather seat creaks when I shift my weight, and the armrest is cold under my palm.
Addison rests her head on my shoulder, but her fingers keep moving against my hand, tracing patterns that tell me she’s not sleeping.
An hour into the flight, my leg starts bouncing against the floor, and I can’t make it stop.
“Hey.” Addison lifts her head and looks at me. “Talk to me.”
I glance at Davis. His eyes are closed now, but his breathing isn’t quite deep enough to be real sleep.
“Not here.”
“Then come with me.”
She unbuckles her seat belt and stands, pulling me toward the back of the plane, where the bathroom and galley are tucked away. It’s not private, but it’s far enough from everyone that we can speak freely without being overheard.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she says, keeping her voice low.
I lean against the wall. “My dad has been checked out and has let my mother run everything. This is stressing me out.”
“I understand. You know, I learned something a long time ago—that it’s best not to stress about the unknown because we tend to create situations that are a hundred times worse than reality. I know it’s not easy, but this might be a good thing.”
“Now who’s being optimistic?”
Addison is quiet for a moment. “Maybe he’s on your side? We never looked up what the palace statement was.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I force myself to say the thing I’ve been avoiding. “But I also think, what if he’s running out of time and …”
“Louis.” Her voice is soft.
“The last time we spoke, he told me to follow my heart, even if it cost me everything. He said he was proud of me. I feel guilty.” I look at her, and the fear I’ve been holding back starts to crack through.
“Your father loves you, and he wants the best for you. I could tell that in the first five minutes of chatting with him. Try to relax until you can’t. Okay?”
I lean forward and slide a kiss across her lips. It’s instant happiness.
“Better?” she whispers, placing a hand on my cheek.
“Yes.”
Davis shifts in his seat and coughs, pulling us both out of the moment.
“Be present with me,” Addison says, taking my hand and leading me back to our seats.
Davis cracks one eye open as we pass. “Everything okay?”
“Fine.” I settle into my seat, and Addison tucks herself against my side. “Just stretching our legs.”
He studies me for a second longer than necessary, but doesn’t push. He nods and closes his eyes.
The hours crawl by. At some point, sunlight passes through the windows, and the flight attendant brings coffee. Davis is asleep, snoring softly. Addison is out, too, but sleep doesn’t come for me, no matter how hard I try.
I keep thinking about the chess games my father and I used to play when I was younger, before the pressures of the Crown turned every conversation into a negotiation.
He taught me to think three moves ahead, to anticipate my opponent’s strategy before they executed it.
But I can’t prepare myself because I don’t know or understand his endgame, not after he refused treatments.
The pilot announces our descent, and Montclaire opens up below us.
The coastline appears first, with early morning light reflecting off the water, followed by the rolling hills and the green fields that stretch toward the horizon.
The palace sits on the cliff, its white stone glowing pink in the sunrise, looking exactly the way it always has for hundreds of years.
The plane touches down and taxis toward a private hangar. The engines cut, and the cabin falls silent.
Davis stretches as he stands. “Moment of truth, I suppose.”
I’m fucking exhausted.
A black sedan waits with the engine running, and we slide in with Davis taking the front seat beside the driver.
We pull away and travel down the service roads that circle the airfield. The sun climbs higher as we drive, painting the hills gold and making the dew on the grass sparkle.
We pass through the palace gates without stopping, the guards waving us through like they’ve been expecting us. They absolutely have.
We drive past the gardens where I used to play as a child, the fountain where Delphine and I threw coins and made wishes, the cottage where Addison lived while she worked on my portrait. Each landmark blurs into the next as we wind toward the main entrance.
The car stops at the front steps, and an attendant opens the door before the engine fully cuts off.
“Your Highness, His Majesty is waiting in his private study.” He pauses. “The three of you have been requested to join.”
I take Addison’s hand in mine as we follow the attendant up the stone steps and through the main doors.
The entrance hall is empty at this hour, with morning light streaming through the tall windows.
We pass portraits of my ancestors, who look down with painted disapproval, tapestries depicting battles fought centuries ago, and the old wooden clock that’s been counting minutes in this hallway since my great-grandfather’s reign.
Davis walks a step behind us, and the three of us look wildly out of place. I’m still wearing the suit I wore to Diamond, and Addison has on that red dress I couldn’t wait to peel off of her.
We turn down the corridor that leads to the north wing, past my mother’s sitting room, where I used to hang out with my grandmother. The attendant’s pace is brisk, and I have to lengthen my stride to keep up.
“How is he?” I ask when we get closer.
“Very eager to see you, sir.”
The attendant stops outside my father’s private study and knocks twice.
“Enter,” my father calls.
The man reaches for the handle, but I put my hand on his arm.
“I need a moment, please,” I say.
He steps back without question, his face carefully blank.
Addison turns to face me, grabbing both my hands. “Whatever’s on the other side of that door, you’re not alone. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to prepare for the worst. But Addison is here, her fingers laced with mine, her eyes steady on my face, and Davis is behind me, looking ready to follow me into whatever comes next.
I take a breath and open the door.