It was part of the reason their original fake-dating scheme had worked so well, because they were both notorious for their inability to commit. The press had loved it.
“That’s not the point,” she reminded him. “We’re serious now. We love each other!”
“Which means we should probably face the fact that we can’t really have a future.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Marshall. But don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to see where this goes?”
“That’s just the thing—it can’t go anywhere! Sam, if we ever did want to get married, I would have to renounce my succession rights!” he burst out. Her eyes widened, and his next words came out softer. “You know that a member of the royal family cannot also govern one of the duchies; it’s a conflict of interest. If we got married, I would have to step down as the future Duke of Orange, and just be…” Marshall faltered. “Mr. Samantha Washington, I guess.”
On some level, Sam had known this, but she’d never really confronted the truth of it. She’d never let herself imagine their relationship going all the way to the altar.
A cold, hard realization was beginning to dawn on Sam, but she fought it; she pushed it away with every ounce of strength. “There has to be another solution.”
“Me giving up my title is the solution.”
There was a raw, rough emotion beneath Marshall’s words; he looked almost like he was blinking back tears. Sam felt a stinging heat behind her own eyelids.
“I wish I could give up Orange for you, Sam. But there’s so much at stake.” He sighed. “It’s not the same for me as it is for Teddy. Do you know how many Black families there are in the nobility?”
Sam nodded. She knew that things were different for Marshall, and always had been.
“My grandfather is one of the only Black dukes in America. There is an unbelievable amount of pressure on me. What kind of message does it send, if I renounce my position and title for you? I hate to say it, but Grandpa is probably right,” Marshall concluded. “The smart thing to do is to just…stop.”
“You don’t mean that,” she protested, voice quavering. “It’s not fair. You’re supposed to give up on our relationship because you’re some kind of symbol?”
“I’m a symbol because I was born to be. We both were.”
Sam shook her head vehemently. “This can’t be it. We’ll find another way out, we’ll change things—”
“Change what?” Marshall asked wearily. “Change my family? Change the laws of succession?”
“Everything, if we have to! We’ll change the world, okay?”
Marshall smiled, but there was no joy in it. “That right there is one of the many reasons I love you. You refuse to accept defeat, even when it’s staring you in the face.”
Sam’s hands were clenched at her sides. Marshall reached for her fist, gently unfurled her fingers, and laced them in his.
She squeezed his hand tight, silently pleading with him not to leave her.
“Sam, no matter how much I love you, I won’t walk away from the dukedom. I can’t do that to my family, or to Orange. Not even for you.”
“I wouldn’t want you to,” she whispered.
Marshall had spent his whole life training to be the Duke of Orange. It was the role he’d always known he would one day step into, a fundamental piece of his identity. Sam couldn’t ask him to turn his back on his family, his legacy. Even if she wasn’t the one doing the asking—even if it was all because of the Crown.
Sam had never hated her position more than she did in that moment.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Marshall murmured, even though they both knew that it wasn’t okay, not at all. He was still holding her hand in his, and Sam had the sudden, anguished thought that this might be the last time he ever touched her.
She turned and flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his shirt, soaking it with her tears. Marshall reached down with infinite tenderness and tipped up her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his.
He kissed her. It was soft at first, gentle—but then Sam was pressing forward, wrapping her arms around him and digging her fingers into his shoulders. She kissed him passionately, with every ounce of regret and longing within her, trying to memorize the feel of him.
They both knew that they were kissing each other goodbye.
When they finally broke apart, Sam took several deep breaths. The moon hung like a cold, cruel spotlight in the middle of the sky, illuminating the sorrow on Marshall’s face, which mirrored her own.
“I…um…I guess I should leave,” he mumbled.
Sam gulped and nodded, not trusting herself to reply.
When he was gone, she crumpled to the ground and hung her head in her hands. The tears came freely now, ugly sobs that racked her chest, making her ache all the way down in her core.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Beatrice’s voice made her look up. “Sam? Are you okay?”
“Marshall broke up with me,” she said flatly.
“Oh, Sam.” Beatrice sank onto the sand and put an arm around her, pulling her close. Sam leaned gratefully against her sister’s shoulder.
Through her sobs, she explained what had happened—that there was no possible future for them, because Marshall would have to give up his future as Duke of Orange.
Beatrice nodded. “I know this is hard to hear, but maybe it’s for the best. If you were going to break up, it’s better that it happened now, before…”
“Before I got hurt?” Sam asked sarcastically, and Beatrice winced.
“Sorry. That was a dumb thing to say; of course you’re hurting. I just meant, before you got any more hurt than you are now.” She hesitated. “Marshall was going to have to choose between you and his family eventually.”
“And you didn’t think to warn me?” Sam asked wearily.
“I guess I thought you knew. And I didn’t realize that you and Marshall were in love.”
Sam scooped up a handful of sand and let it sift through her fingers. “You know what? Being a princess isn’t really that great.”
“Wise words. Should I embroider them on a throw pillow for your sitting room?”
Sam laughed, but it came out as more of a sob.
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice said again. “Trust me when I say that I know how hard it is, losing someone you love because of who we are.”
Sam swallowed; her throat still felt raw. She shrugged forward and looped her arms around her knees.