Chapter 14
That evening, I stood inside the Hearthside House Inn.
The entire council was packed into the small foyer area.
I lingered next to the fireplace. Georgiana sat nearby as my support.
It had been a rough night for her after I told her everything I discovered about our parents.
And even though I assured her that her presence wasn’t necessary, I appreciated her being there.
Uncle also was present. There was a lot to discuss, and I prayed it would all go according to plan.
Uncle rose from his spot on a large plush chair and walked up in front of the fireplace. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re gathered here this evening. Prince Fitzwilliam and I have news. I am stepping down as regent, and the prince will be taking his rightful place as king…”
We’d discussed this. I wouldn’t require Uncle to admit his sins to the council, but his misdeeds would come out soon enough when he turned himself over to the police for the murder of my parents and Clara.
It was more important to both of us that the succession and the acceptance of a cure for Moonrot go over smoothly.
Uncle motioned to me, and I stepped up. “I’ve difficult information to convey to you,” I began. “My parents… before they died, they experimented with wild magic. They wanted to strip the powers of other magical races that weren’t fae.”
The council broke out in whispers among themselves. I looked at Georgiana, and she raised her chin, the determination in her eyes giving me the strength to continue.
“I won’t ask which of you may agree with my parents in thinking that might be a good idea. Their experimentation backfired on them and released Moonrot, cursing and killing only pure-blood fae instead.”
The murmurs and whispers increased. “You’re saying your parents, the king and queen, did this to us?” John Rittle demanded, the anger in his voice no doubt reflecting the feelings of others.
“Yes,” I said, even though my hands shook as I spoke. “However, the positive thing is that since we understand the source of the curse, we’ve found a remedy for Moonrot.”
Silence descended on the room. Everyone stared at me in surprise and rapt attention. “You possess a cure for Moonrot?” Mrs. Trent asked, her eyes wide.
“Yes. But it wasn’t my cure. We could only create such a cure through combining the powers of different races.
Even the forbidden or so-called dark creatures, such as werewolves and vampires.
It is only with their power that we can hope to cure any more fae.
” I took a slow breath. I wasn’t afraid of what came next, but it would be a big ask for some on the council.
“The only way that we’ll be able to make more potion quickly enough to save the lives of others cursed with Moonrot is to change our laws concerning werewolves, vampires, and even some witches.
We must grant them immunity for coming forward and offering their help.
We must also grant them assistance, should they need it.
I know this is unorthodox, but I drafted legislation for your perusal. ”
Uncle jumped to his feet and began handing out the papers with the proposals that Georgiana and I had worked to put together, with much referencing to Mary, who served as a spokesperson for those who were too afraid to share their identities.
More words rippled through the council members as they argued among themselves. “Please!” I shouted over them. “I’m not finished.”
The room quieted a little.
“As your prince, soon to be your king, I humbly request that we take an emergency vote, here and now, to grant the proper immunity and assistance to such races so that we can start creating and distributing the cure right away, so no more will die of Moonrot.”
“You may be the prince, Your Highness, but you cannot call for a vote at such an informal gathering,” said one council member.
“Yes, it’s highly unusual,” said another. “We need time to—”
“Why not?” interrupted John Rittle.
The room again fell silent.
“The prince and I disagree on many things, as everyone is aware,” John Rittle said. “And I am skeptical about granting immunity to such dangerous beings. Many of you may feel the same. However, how many of us have a family member or a friend dying from Moonrot?”
Almost two-thirds of the council raised their hands, including John Rittle.
“I have a sister who has been suffering from Moonrot for years,” John Rittle continued. “She has children who hope and pray to see her get better. I hope and pray she will get better. People are dying, and yet we’re hesitating? I say we take the vote now.”
“We have a quorum here, why not?” Mrs. Trent said. “Your Highness, if you will grant us half an hour to look over this bill, we’ll debate and then vote.”
“That is reasonable, thank you,” I said.
Georgiana, Uncle, and I left the room. Georgiana refused to meet Uncle’s gaze or speak a word to him. I didn’t blame her. I had mixed feelings about Uncle and would be relieved when he was behind bars, but he was also assisting us because he still had power.
“Well, my boy. It looks like you've got this in hand.” He gave me a sad smile. “I hope someday you see that all I was trying to do was save lives.”
Georgiana only took another step away from him.
“I’ll go and turn myself in. I wanted to say I’m terribly sorry for how this played out.
I’m sorry to you and to Georgiana. I won’t make you respond to that.
I’ll just go.” And with that, my uncle walked off and opened the door to his limo.
“Dan, good sir, I’m going to need you to take me to the police. I must confess to murder.”
After forty-five minutes, the council, still gathered in the stifling room, called a quorum and agreed to vote. I held my breath, my heart leaping with every yay and sinking for every nay.
Georgiana sat as still as death. I took her hand and squeezed.
“Breathe,” I whispered to her.
She nodded and sucked in a bit of air. I’m not sure I took a breath until the last vote had been taken.
I’d been carefully counting, and my world exploded with relief when I realized the bill had passed.
I rose on shaky legs. “Thank you for doing the right thing.”
“We have one more vote to take,” John Rittle said.
“Like I said before, the prince and I have had our differences. However, it is clear from his initiative and the way he cares for others that he’ll make a fine king.
I propose we vote him in to take his place as king this instant, if he is willing. ”
“I second that,” Mrs. Trent agreed.
Surprise and a thousand other feelings washed over me, but there was only one answer. I had John Rittle, of all people, on my side. With the influence that he and Mrs. Trent wielded with the other members of the council, there would never be a better time.
“I’m willing,” I said.
Again the vote went around the room, this one nearly unanimous in my favor.
“It’s decided,” John Rittle announced. “Fitzwilliam Valemont will take his place now as king, and we’ll hold his coronation in a few months.”
The council stood, and everyone bowed. “Your Majesty.”
The words struck me with the force of a physical blow.
For a heartbeat, my pulse stumbled—too fast, too loud—crowding my chest with a sudden rush of doubt.
King. The title felt impossibly heavy, like a cloak I wasn’t sure I was ready to lift.
But as the council rose and the trust in their gazes met mine, something steadied inside me.
A quiet clarity. This was the path I’d been shaped for, the destiny I’d feared and longed for in equal measure.
And like that, I was king.
“Thank you. I will take this responsibility seriously and use it to serve the fae and all magical races to the best of my ability.”
After the meeting, the group disbanded as people started leaving for the nightly festival activities.
I also moved to leave, and then saw Rosalie sitting on the stairs of the inn watching me. There was something else I needed to do, and while I was making brave declarations, I might as well do it now.
“Rosalie, will you come for a walk with me?”
“Sure! Let me grab my coat.” She raced up the steps, and seconds later returned wearing a heavy parka.
We walked down the street toward Cupid’s Confections of all places. Light snowflakes fell on the ground as we passed Miss Bates happily riding her yellow bicycle, waving to everyone she recognized.
“Why do you want to marry me?” I asked.
“It seems the right thing to do. My parents want us to, your aunt wants us to, your uncle wants us to,” Rosalie listed out. “And I mean, you seem nice enough.”
“I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. And to be completely honest, I’m not in love with you.”
Rosalie pouted. “It’s that Bennet girl, isn’t it?”
“Do you really want to spend your life with someone who doesn’t love you? You deserve more than that. We both deserve more than that.” I’d marry Rosalie if she insisted, but she needed to understand the truth. If Rosalie rejected me, she could release me from my bargain with her mother.
Her brows drew together in thought, but then she sighed. “I guess you’re right. Being queen sounded so glamorous, but after seeing what you had to deal with here today with the council…” She shrugged. “It looked like a considerable amount was put on you to act just right, and I don’t want that.”
“It can be a lot of work and pressure.”
“Plus, I was only trying to make my parents happy. You know who I think is super attractive? Brexton.”
“The junior pastor?”
“Yeah. I saw him at one of the activities a couple days ago. He has such a nice smile.” She blushed a little. “Okay, fine. Honestly? You’re kinda stiff and severe. I don’t want to marry you. I reject our engagement.”
A lightness lifted off my shoulders, as if someone had taken a sack of bricks from them. “Thank you. We’ll both be much happier this way.”
She let out a short, nervous laugh. “Now I have to tell my parents.”