6. Chapter 6
Michaela
D inner proceeded easily. With Bishop at my side at least I didn’t use the wrong spoon or anything. Okay, I did pick up the wrong fork once, but he cleared his throat before anyone noticed. Apparently, that could have been disastrous.
It wasn’t that I didn’t know etiquette. I had lessons early in my pageant career so that I could represent my titles in a number of situations, but those lessons didn’t involve Nolcovian traditions. Where the rest of the world worked from the outside in with silverware, Nolcovia preferred an outside-inside rotating pattern that took me a moment to get the hang of. Plus, I’d never been to a dinner that had ever lasted this long.
The grandest meal I’d ever been to was six courses. I paced myself for something along that line of thinking, but after hors d’oeuvre, soup, appetizers, and salad, I expected the fish that was placed before me to be the main dish and dessert would follow. I was full, but not miserable, though I did find it odd that Bishop had eaten less than I had.
“Are you really this dainty?” I whispered to Bishop. “I have pageant sisters who could eat you under the table.”
He didn’t face me at first, but a smile threatened to curve into place if he didn’t restrain it. “First of all, please introduce me to them. Sooner the better. Your pageant sisters are a perk of my scheming that I had not yet considered. Describe them at length, physical features only.” He let the smile spread as he looked at me, gallantly roguish in his delight. “And second, I’m pacing myself. I need not burst from my cummerbund before the second entrée, dear Coco.”
I frowned at the use of my nickname, but then what he was saying registered. “Second entrée? There’s another one coming?” I leaned toward him and kept my volume to a strained whisper. “I thought this whole thing was almost over.”
Amused, his left eyebrow twitched as if to tease me. “Oh, my dear, we’ve only just begun.” He rubbed his knuckle against his upper lip, which hid his whisper well. “It’s a ten-course meal.”
My stomach twisted at the thought. We were barely halfway through.
As if to read my mind, Bishop added, “To be honest, the next hour is usually where Her Majesty will start unleashing her traps. So, be a dear and keep your wits about you, yes?”
Appetite destroyed, I pushed my plate away. What did he mean by traps? What was I in for? I rubbed my lips together as I considered my situation. I was at the far side of the table, maybe she would forget about me. Maybe she wouldn’t pull any tricks with the three cameramen recording live to the provinces. Or maybe… my eyes met the queen’s for a split second and I swear I saw her irises burst into flames like a cartoon villain. She was just waiting for the right moment to strike.
Celani had spent most of her time engaged in conversation with Esmerey about foreign policy and domestic aid. Since she spent little time speaking to me and Sadie, I had to assume that the one remaining noble was the favorite to win.
“And what of you, young Sadira?” Celani’s voice caught my ear. “To be snatched from the poverty-stricken province of Eshein to live a life of luxury here at the palace, what’s that like?”
I couldn’t see Sadie from my vantage point, but her meek voice told me she wasn’t ready for any of this. “I’m grateful for the opportunity—”
“Speak up, darling,” Celani prompted. “The cameras can’t hear you.”
“I was,” Sadie’s volume grew, but so did the tremor in her voice, “happy to be selected, and to have made it this far is—”
“Nothing short of a miracle,” Esmerey finished for her, obviously sore that Sadie stole the spotlight.
“Esme,” Fitz’s voice held warning, “please watch your tone.”
“Oh yes,” Celani clapped her hands together, “that’s what we have seen, isn’t it? The prince doesn’t take kindly to good-natured ribbing between the classes, does he?”
Fitz’s jaw hardened, but he said nothing at first. Setting his fork aside, he leaned back in his seat as if he wanted to consider his words carefully. “What I don’t take kindly to, Miss Elderwood, is the idea that one person is worth more or deserves more because of their station in life.”
“Rich,” Celani whispered under her breath, “coming from someone of your stature,” she tilted her head as if to offer a tiny bow before she said, “Your Highness.” The reporter pushed her plate back and folded her hands in her lap. “You have to admit, this isn’t the lineup that was expected from you, is it?”
He wasn’t willing to be goaded by her. Head high, he answered quickly. “I pride myself on doing the unexpected.”
“But still, Esmerey was never a favorite, Sadira comes from poverty, and then you have the American,” she flitted a hand in my direction without looking at me, “who was never supposed to be here to begin with.”
Conversation stalled as the footmen retrieved plates from the table. Once the clattering and clearing finished, Fitz drew in a slow breath before he spoke. “Sadira’s economic station has never been a factor in my pursuit of her heart. In fact, it’s a boon to us all that she could lend wise perspective to inform her future king on the affairs of the kingdom from all angles.” He gained confidence as he continued. “And no, Lady Esmerey was not a favorite, but the service she provided to the kingdom in a moment of crisis showed me a side of her heart I hadn’t seen before and I couldn’t, in good conscience, let her go.” He turned his head enough to stare her down from across the table. “That being said, if she proves it was only a fluke, then I will not hesitate to end the charade.”
Bishop shivered next to me. “Brr,” he whispered under his breath.
Fitz wasn’t done. “As for the American,” his eyes met mine, and my heart skipped at the intensity of his stare, “her name is Michaela Caldwell, and she’s belonged here since the moment she stepped onto Nolcovian soil. I hope you can show that extension of respect and hospitality when you speak to her, Miss Elderwood.”
Footmen returned with the next plate in the wake of his words. Goosebumps erupted all over my skin as I thought about what he’d said. Never in the past had Fitz been willing to claim me like that. He’d intentionally left me at the back of the pack to be sure no one questioned our previous connection, and yet on a live broadcast, he made it apparent that I wasn’t there by pity or happenstance.
Hints of rosemary and lemon pricked my nose as a plate slid onto the charger in front of me. I stared at the golden and glistening skin of the roasted chicken, but found my mind was racing with the implications of what he said.
Desperately.
His short confession from earlier rolled through my mind, meaning more in this light than ever. I felt his stare again and looked up to meet his eyes. We’d joked when we were younger that we could read each other’s minds from across the room, but never in my life had I wanted that power more. On the surface, I recognized his concern and his need to protect me, but there was more. Deeper emotions that had never entered the playing field when we were young teenagers. Something that burned hotter than the many candles that dotted the long banquet table.
“Blimey,” Bishop tilted his head in order to avoid being heard, “get a room, would you?”
“Shut up,” I scolded him under my breath and cleared my throat. Bishop had to be off base. Fitz was worried, that was all.
“Look, if you’d like me to pretend to choke on a chicken bone to make a distraction for your escape, just say the word.”
I frowned at Bishop and gave a small but certain shake of my head. I didn’t plan on slinking off into the night like a whipped dog. Fitz took a risk and stood up for me, and I owed it to him to stick it out until the end.
Other than a few whispers, the banquet hall fell silent. The plate of roasted chicken looked amazing, but no one dared start before the prince or the queen.
“Well,” his mother pulled a pained expression, “if Leonidas is done lecturing our guest, may I suggest we start the next course?”
He didn’t shoot her a dirty look, but I watched it cross his features just the same. Thankfully, after the queen’s first bite, the rest of the table resumed eating. I followed Bishop’s lead and started pacing myself, considering all the food that was still coming.
It wasn’t hard to focus on the entrée. The chef’s exquisite skill showed in every bite. I recalled Carline, the royal baker’s daughter, whom Fitz dismissed in the early rounds. In truth, though it had only been a few weeks, it felt like eons ago that I’d stood unsure in the parlor as I waited for my chance to talk to the Crown Prince. I thought I had a good understanding of him in the past, but in this limited time, I discovered new depths to my old friend.
Memories of that initial stolen moment in his chambers rushed into my mind like a surging tide. His shirt in my grip, his lips against mine, starved for the connection that we never knew existed. I’d pushed thoughts of our first kiss from my mind for so long, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d thought of it since then. It was brief, but after last night I felt confident that it had impacted him as well. Something had changed within him. A new bravery I hadn’t seen that night, and yet, I could see it now.
The need to know more drove me to search for his gaze once more. Yet, when I finally caught his eye, I discovered he was engaged in a whispered conversation with the footman by his side. With a curt nod, the footman stepped back and left. Fitz’s face tightened with tension, more stressed than before. Was it news about the kingdom? He’d been literally putting out fires since the earthquake, but had something else happened?
Fitz turned back to me, as if he could sense my gaze. With a brief shake of his head, he tried to assure me I didn’t need to worry. But I how could I stop when I saw how much the news had affected him?
“The most surprising turn of events is the voice of the people,” Celani continued as if she were deaf to the hostility in the room. “When polled, they chose Michaela to be the prince’s selection.”
What? Did I hear her right?
Minute tension in the queen’s neck was the only indication that she had feelings on the subject. “Polls are often unreliable.”
“Except when they aren’t,” Bishop offered.
“Besides,” Esmerey felt the need to contribute, “it’s only sympathy because she fell in the hole with that little girl. It will wear off.”
I was still stuck on being leading in anything. This had to be a trick.
“I don’t know,” Bishop shrugged as though he’d thought very little about it, “I think introducing foreign blood into the line would be a smashing idea.”
“And when someone of actual importance echoes your opinion, Bishop, I will give it credence,” the queen’s mouth tightened, “but your standing does not allow you to excuse any laws on her behalf.”
Why did I feel like I’d become invisible? Everyone was talking about me, not to me.
“That’s the rub though, isn’t it?” Bishop loved a challenge and, for whatever reason, the queen didn’t have the power to intimidate him. “She was made noble the first night. They all were. That alone should open the laws on her behalf, no interlude on my part needed,” he smiled broadly, “Your Majesty.”
The queen’s glare seared like a laser. She didn’t appreciate her nephew calling her judgment into question. “Yes, and if Leonidas had communicated with anyone of authority to enact it before he spoke, perhaps it would carry more weight."
"Yes," Bishop smirked, “after all, we can’t go around appointing power to anyone who wants it, right? We don’t need anyone stealing the crown, yes?”
My mouth went dry at his veiled condemnation. I glanced around the table, curious if the others had heard him or if they’d missed his accusation of treason against the queen. But no one else seemed to pick up on it. Chatter centered around what she’d said.
Celani raised a finger for clarification. “Your Majesty, does that mean the prince’s appointment of all the contestants to noble stature is not valid?”
My eyes darted to Fitz, curious what he would say, but he wasn’t listening. The same footman returned and took a note from the prince’s hand.
“No,” strain in her voice spoke to how much it hurt to say it, “Leonidas was correct on the history of our people. He was well within his rights to elevate those Nolcovians he saw fit.” Her icy gaze found mine. “But only the Nolcovians.”
I held my breath as she glared. The message was crystal clear. I wasn’t welcome. I never would be.
“You’re saying then,” Celani needed exact answers, “Michaela is the only one who is not considered noble, at least in your eyes?”
“In the eyes of the kingdom,” Queen Mariah clarified. “Nor will she ever be.”
My heart clenched in my chest. Beneath the table, Bishop set a palm against my leg to settle me, but with warring emotions, it did little good. Within seconds, I felt like I’d become the enemy of the country, the outsider here to destroy everything, steal the crown and incite chaos, but all I’d come to do was help my friend.
And where was Fitz to defend my honor?
Where were those promises he’d made last night?
Love before country? Maybe he wasn’t talking about me after all.
“Excuse me.” Fitz abruptly rose from the table, not giving even a moment for anyone else to stand, which led to shuffling bodies and silverware clanking and tumbling to the floor. He didn’t so much as pause before he made his exit without looking back.
The queen’s smile cinched down as if she feared it might betray her real feelings. “I apologize for Leonidas, he’s prone to leave without a moment’s notice from time to time. All a part of the life as a Crown Prince, I’m afraid.”
Smiles eased into place around the table as the tension lessened. But Bishop wasn’t about to let it stand.
“I’m sure it’s difficult being the first one to be notified of emergencies in the kingdom.” He frowned, but he still couldn’t hide his smile. “Seeing as he’s the most important person in the room.”
Queen Mariah’s face turned smooth as ice and twice as cold. “And what would you know of importance, Bishop?” Her calculated words became blades of warning. It wasn’t smart for him to continue to goad her, but Bishop didn’t seem to have brakes on his runaway train. When he got an idea in his head, he wouldn’t abandon it.
“But that’s the difference between us,” he leaned forward, impish and defiant, “ I don’t seek power or a throne.”
Eyes turned downcast at his volley, all but Celani who practically foamed at the mouth for the return shot. Bishop had an edge the queen wasn’t accustomed to, an invincibility to her power because he was not quite royal but still remained higher than the average citizen. As he said, he didn’t want the crown, but by the looks of it, she did .
“I’ve always wondered that, Your Majesty,” Celani punctured the standoff. “Why have there only ever been kings in Nolcovia?”
“You’re not a native to the country, then?” Bishop deduced.
“Oh, no,” she admitted. “I moved here to go to university and fell in love with the country, so I stayed, but many of the customs have been a mystery to me.” Her long finger pointed toward me as if to draw me back into the spotlight. “Actually, that’s why I have enjoyed Michaela’s part in this so much. I feel like kindred spirits as everyone else seems to understand traditions, and yet she’s left in the dark to fumble her way through.”
My mouth opened but I had no words. I couldn’t even tell if she was complimenting me or insulting me.
“To answer your question,” Queen Mariah pulled the attention away from me as quickly as she could, “the tradition is that husband and wife rule together, in partnership. Which is why it is imperative for Leonidas to find a wife.”
Celani’s brow creased as she considered it. “But if that were true, then why not give you the news instead of the prince?”
Once more the queen’s neck tightened, highlighting her veins and bones for a brief second before she recovered. “Because the footmen are honoring the succession of power.”
“Forgive me, but why not change the law?” Celani wouldn’t leave it alone. Bishop struggled to hide his smile behind his open palm as the reporter continued to grill the royal. “It’s clear you have the experience, you know the issues facing the kingdom, and you seem willing, so it looks like an easy—"
“For whatever reason,” Queen Mariah’s upper lip flinched like a jungle cat trying to hold back a violent snarl, “the king has seen fit to uphold tradition instead.”
“But surely you have the influence to convince him to—”
The queen’s palms slammed against the table, rattling every plate and glass, effectively cutting Celani short. “If I did, I would be ruling the kingdom, wouldn’t I?” Her voice silenced the room and turned every guest into a silent statue, afraid to move for fear of her wrath. As if recovering from her own personal earthquake, she slowly slipped back into her royal demeanor. Her smile, her softness, and the regal stature she normally embraced all slipped back into place one at a time. “Shall we call for the next course?”
The footmen wasted no time and took her suggestion as an order. Plates distracted from the uncomfortable silence and thankfully helped to hide the way Bishop’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. It was what he’d wanted all along, to get her to admit her ambition for the throne.
But why? What good did that do him? It was broadcast, yes, but if she had supporters in the kingdom, wouldn’t they start to clamor for a change in the laws? From what I’d seen in the time I’d been in the country, civil war was one wrong move away.
Esmerey decided to try her hand at diplomacy and took control of the conversation. “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m absolutely dying with curiosity to know more about what the people think of the competition, Celani. I mean you told us about that one little poll.” She was obviously quick to dismiss my high ranking. “Will you indulge us more? For instance, you haven’t told us your favorite.”
Small dishes of something pale and sparkling were set on plates in front of the guests. A sharp acidic bite teased my nose as the footman placed mine. It looked like ice cream, but not. More like snowballs in a crystal glass.
“Palate cleanser,” Bishop whispered. “Between entrées. A couple bites at most.”
Celani set her hand to her chest as if surprised. “You want to know my thoughts? I’m positively flustered and oh, so flattered, Lady Esmerey.”
I poked at the frozen mound with my spoon. The rounded edge sunk easily into the glossy surface. I scooped a healthy bite and slipped it into my mouth without dropping it in my lap.
Always a win in my book when food didn’t rebel and embarrass me.
“Yes…” Esmerey dragged out the word, “please tell us who you would pick for Prince Leonidas.”
Celani waved Esmerey off, chuckling to herself. “With all the players at the table, that simply doesn’t seem fair, at least not without asking everyone present.”
She meant the other four individuals who hadn’t said much at all. Earlier, I heard one introduce himself as a prince, but not from Nolcovia, and from his grey hair, I was guessing he wasn’t taking over his country any time soon. Bishop had mentioned the silver-haired woman across from me was the chancellor of transportation, and the middle-aged woman to her left was a prominent author adored by her people. The fourth I had only gotten a glimpse of, a burly fellow with an untrimmed beard and full military regalia.
Not a single American in sight. My chances weren’t looking great.
Posture was important in strict social settings, but I wanted to slouch in my chair and maybe creep under the table to try to make a sly exit. Did I really want to hear an entire table confirm what the queen had been all too eager to allude to? I wasn’t worthy of her son and no feelings on my part would ever change that.
“Very well.” The light in Esmerey’s eyes brightened. Of course, it sounded great to her. We had a table full of politicians and dignitaries. As the remaining noble, she was the clear favorite. “Let’s start with Colonel Hearthwing. Who is your pick to win?”
The booming tenor of his voice matched the sheer looming size of the man. “While I find all three competitors to be worthy women, I must say my heart is always with tradition and ritual. Thus, Lady Esmerey is my favorite.”
Esme cupped her hands over her mouth as a short gasp burst free. I didn’t bother to hide my cynical stare. I’d been backstage at my share of pageants and her ‘oh my gosh, I won?’ face needed work.
“And Lady Fellerey?” Esmerey smiled at the author seated near me. “What would your vote be?”
“I have to concur. Lady Esmerey.” She tipped her head as if to give a bow to her future queen. My stomach tightened.
I hated every minute of this.
“Prince Ollagard, do you have a favorite?” Esmerey batted her eyelashes as if she needed to convince him. Not likely. I was in the enemy’s camp and would be happy to escape with my head still attached to my body.
“Actually,” Bishop spoke up, “I do believe you skipped me, Lady Esmerey.”
Her perfect smile pitched downward for a split second before she recovered. “I didn’t know you wanted to play.”
“Oh, I love playing games.” There had never been a truer statement from his lips. “Might I have a turn, m’lady?”
She didn’t bother asking but motioned for him to speak anyway. Two cameramen shifted into position. In my mind, I imagined the banner at the bottom of the screen in homes all over the country.
Bishop Fitzborough
Cousin to the Prince
Professional Troublemaker
“To me,” he stretched out his answer, “after watching the connection between all of the competitors with my dear cousin, only one stands out as an obvious winner.” He turned his head to look at me. “Michaela Caldwell is the clear choice in my mind.”
Beneath the table, I clenched the folds of my dress. I ducked my head as a nod of gratitude but couldn’t tune out the scoffs of derision around the table. At least with my vision pointed at my lap, I didn’t have to see their faces.
“Very well,” Esmerey didn’t intend to linger on him, “Prince Ollagard, I believe we have come to you.”
The tremor in his voice definitely pointed to his advanced age, but he had an answer ready. “I disagree with all of you. Lady Sadira, she’s the best for the kingdom.”
I turned in time to catch Sadie’s bashful smile. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Looking at Esmerey, she no longer appeared pleased with her party game. “And we’ve come to you, Chancellor Edwards. Who would you choose?”
“No question,” she didn’t hesitate. “Lady Esmerey.”
Smile restored, Esmerey was likely counting her votes. Sadie had her single, and I had mine, but clearly Esme had the popular vote. Like a cat who’d cornered her prey, she turned her attention back to Celani. “Finally, I can’t wait to hear your answer.”
Celani set her spoon on her charger. Any second the dishes would be removed and another would follow. In any other setting, everyone would be more excited about another dish, but instead, everyone waited for her answer.
“I have to say, there are many lovely ladies who have graced this competition. For a long time, my vote was Blair’s and occasionally Gwen’s.” She twirled a lock of her blonde hair around her finger. “We golden-locked ladies must stick up for each other, you see?”
Why wouldn’t she get it over with? Just admit it. Lady Esmerey was the only one who was qualified to be his. And Sadie had to be the second choice. I wasn’t Nolcovian, I had no nobility to speak of, and if I was being honest, I wanted to date Fitz, not get married in less than a week.
“I haven’t missed a single show, and I have watched all the bonus footage, and I have to admit, I am overwhelmed to even be sitting at the table so close to this individual.” Celani fanned her face like she was fangirling at a boy band concert in the nineties. “I have about a thousand questions for her, but okay, fine. I’ll just say it.”
Esmerey’s eyes locked on mine, callous and cruel. She may have shown some decency in the face of an emergency, but deep down, she was a duplicate of the queen. Cold. Distant. And power-hungry. She wanted to see my face when Celani announced Esmerey’s final win. The noble needed to taste the bitterness roll off me in my defeat.
“I adore Lady Michaela,” Celani admitted. “I’ve been secretly watching her all this time, and I have to say, the little stolen moments of romance between them are absolutely exquisite. It’s like Master Bishop said, she’s the one who has stolen the prince’s heart.”
“Stolen may be the operative word,” the queen countered.
“Takes a thief to know one,” Bishop quipped back.
Celani ignored them and faced me. “Tell me, Michaela, what has created this bond between you? He speaks to you differently. Your connection is practically sparking off the screen.”
“I don’t know that it’s sparking…” Esmerey could hardly contain her jealousy.
“It’s like fireworks,” Celani insisted, oblivious to the tension she’d created with her confession. “And that moment, when he watched you fall.” Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spoil her perfect makeup. “It was captured by a small sheep herder who was trying to record the destruction as it was happening.” She pressed her lips together as she gathered her emotions. “He called you something. What was it?”
I shook my head as if I didn’t know, but Bishop wouldn’t let it stand.
“Coco,” he answered. “That’s his nickname for her.” He brought his eyebrows together. “Lady Esmerey, do you have a nickname?”
“Yes.” Celani didn’t allow a rebuttal and stayed focused on me. “Coco, that was it. What does it mean?”
“Uh—It’s just something my mom called me when I was a baby. My hair was the shade of cocoa powder and it kind of stuck.”
“And the prince? How did he learn it?”
“I uh—” I felt stuck, trapped on every side. She wasn’t the type to let up, but the queen wouldn’t want me to explain that she’d allowed the Crown Prince to live in America for a year like a commoner.
“Oh, what about when he pulled you from the sinkhole and held you so close.” Plates were placed in front of us, but I’d missed it. From what I could tell, everyone hung onto Celani’s words. “The video is shaky, but his fingers touched your face so gently and I swore he was going to kiss you. Then you whispered ‘Fitz’ and I think my heart exploded. Does he like the nickname you’ve given him?”
My heart hammered in my chest to the point that it became painful. I felt like I was standing against a firing squad wall with twenty muzzles aimed at my heart. Celani seemed unaware that every question brought them closer to pulling the trigger.
“I think,” Bishop stole the spotlight back, “what makes them different is the friendship between them. It’s the sort of thing that every good relationship is based on, wouldn’t you agree, Your Majesty?”
“Friendships can be built,” she replied, all semblance of propriety gone from her voice. “There is more to a marriage than love and friendship.”
“Like loyalty, yes? Devotion? Trust?”
I wanted to kick him under the table. He wasn’t helping me, but then, Bishop was typically out for himself not anyone else.
“So, tell me, Michaela,” Celani leaned forward as if we were at a slumber party about to spill our guts in girl talk, “have you kissed him yet?”
“Cut the feed!” Queen Mariah’s command silenced Celani at once. She rose to her feet, chest heaving with her rage. “Tom, this stunt is over. I won’t have this strumpet making a mockery of everything this country stands for.”
I stood with the rest of the room, knowing that was tradition. Only Bishop refused to stand. Tom stepped from the shadows created by the stage lighting. “Your Majesty, this is good TV. The ratings for this are going to be—”
“If you don’t want me to not only pull the plug on this whole escapade and then ruin you in ways you could never imagine, then I suggest you do as I say.”
Defiance flashed in his eyes, but this wasn’t the hill he was willing to die on. With a motion of his hand, the crew began shutting down the set.
“Your Majesty,” Celani started to grovel to the queen, but her stare cut her words short.
“I’m afraid I don’t feel well.” She set her napkin on her plate. “And despite the many jabs dealt by my nephew, I still have the power to end a dinner party. Thank you for coming. Goodnight.” She turned as if to leave but hesitated. Turning back, her lethal stare locked on me. “To be clear, Miss Caldwell ,” she strained the word so that she could emphasize my lack of nobility, “my son is wrong. You don’t belong here. You never have. You never will. And I will die before I ever see you in a crown. I am determined that you are here to destroy my son’s future and I will do everything in my power to rid you from his life once and for all. Understood?”
I clenched my jaw as the tears welled up in my throat. I’d known it for a long time, perhaps before I’d ever accepted Fitz’s invitation, but to hear it firsthand to my face, to be forced to swallow the vitriol like poison, that was new and horrible in ways I hadn’t imagined.
“The queen has spoken to you, child.” Queen Mariah refused to let my silence stand. “Will you answer her? Or dare you defy the crown openly?”
“Apologies, Your Majesty.” I dropped my chin to my chest. “I never meant to offend—”
“And you’d speak back to—”
“Enough!” Bishop rose to his feet so fast his chair toppled backward. “You’ve made her cower. You’ve played the bully, Aunt Mariah. Congratulations, you’re the beast we all knew you were!”
I dared not look up. The rush of fabric told me she’d left, but if I raised my chin, they’d all see the tears. Bishop’s hand curled around my forearm, but I jerked away from his grasp. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
Gripping my skirts, I rushed from the room, needing to breathe air that hadn’t been filled with the venomous breath of a woman who hated me more than anyone ever had. My heels hit marble and I set my sights on the staircase. I needed space. I had to put my mind together again and try to understand how—
“She’s right you know.” I whirled around to see Esmerey and Sadie in the doorway that led to the hall. Esmerey cocked her eyebrow to challenge me. “You don’t belong here.”
“Esme, please.” Sadie tugged on her arm. “Things are out of control. You don’t want to say things you don’t mean. You’ll regret them.”
“Oh,” she wrested her arm free, “but I do mean them. And for once, the cameras are off and the prince won’t hear me. At last, I can tell the precious American how incredibly pointless she is in this competition.” Her arm flung toward Sadie. “At least the poverty-stricken wretch has some right to the kingdom, but you? You are a gold-digging thief here to undermine the entire system, and I am absolutely ecstatic that the queen let everyone in the kingdom know it. You deserved every bit of that, Michaela. You brought it on yourself.”
I wanted to fight. I wanted to argue and rage and tell them that it was them who had no right to be here. My life had been intertwined with Fitz’s since we were teenagers. My knowledge of all things Leonidas went deeper than any hole I’d sunk into, but I wasn’t allowed to tell them. If I thought the queen was mad before, I could only imagine if I let her most shameful secret out. Instead, I gripped my skirts and started to climb the staircase.
“That’s it, Michaela!” Esmerey’s voice followed me in my escape. “Run away. Run away and never come back!”