“Let’s discuss in more detail soon,” Beatrice said quickly. “Have a lovely evening.”
Hearing the gentle dismissal in her words, Francesca murmured her goodbyes and retreated. Beatrice let out a defeated breath and glanced back around the ballroom.
Teddy was here, though he and Beatrice had kept an unspoken distance between them all night, like planets caught in opposite orbits. She’d barely seen him since their walk in the gardens. Beatrice was trying not to think about that—the way she’d snapped at him, I don’t remember!—but the memory kept cutting at something inside her, sharp like teeth.
Jefferson and Daphne still stood near the exit, bidding farewell to the few remaining guests. The band was still playing up on the stage; it would keep going until every last person had departed, because there was never an official “last song” at a royal event. The high-top tables were scattered with crumpled napkins, crystal wineglasses marked with lipstick smudges, even a stray necktie.
“Your Majesty! May I have a moment alone?” Anju asked, walking toward her. When Beatrice nodded, the chamberlain lowered her voice. “I found the former Guard you wanted me to track down.”
Beatrice’s breath caught. “Yes?”
“He’s now employed by the Duchess of Texas. I’m sorry I didn’t think to check there sooner,” Anju said quickly; “you know the duchies’ internal human resources servers aren’t accessible to us, to protect regional governments from federal oversight….” She kept tripping over herself to apologize for the delay, but Beatrice had stopped listening.
Connor was in Texas. She could summon him here, and—
And then what? When she first woke up in the hospital, all Beatrice had wanted was to see him, to hold him. Now she didn’t know what she wanted.
She was so dazed that she almost didn’t notice her brother coming to join them. “Beatrice! I need to talk to you about something. It’s important,” he added.
There was an urgency to his tone that dispelled her exhaustion. “Of course. Let’s go to my office.”
It was still a bit jarring to think of this room as her office rather than her father’s. Beatrice flicked on the lights, illuminating the upholstered armchairs by the fire, the desk looming beneath the far window. Roses spilled out of a vase on the central coffee table, their scent lingering on the air.
Jeff headed to the antique cabinet on one wall, which held a gloriously mismatched set of crystal decanters, all inherited from various past kings. He reached for the whiskey, then glanced back to Beatrice for permission. When she nodded, he poured two tumblers of amber liquid.
“I don’t need one,” she protested when he came over with her drink.
“You might change your mind once you hear this.”
Prickling with anticipation, Beatrice took one of the armchairs, and her brother followed suit.
He squirmed, visibly uncomfortable. “Something weird happened earlier. The Duke of Virginia asked me to share a cigar out on the terrace.”
“Okay,” Beatrice prompted slowly.
“I could tell he wanted to ask me for something; I thought it might be another ambassadorial appointment. Instead…” Jeff paused. “He asked if I would be open to testifying against you in Congress.”
“He what?”
“He wanted to know if I was interested in, um…a coup?”
Her first instinct was to laugh. This couldn’t be real; it was something that used to happen centuries ago, but not now, not when the power of government was firm and stable and established.
Except it was real. Ambrose would invoke the unfit-to-rule clause against her, claim that Beatrice was mentally damaged from her accident and couldn’t carry out her duties as queen.
“He obviously doesn’t know me at all, if he thought I wanted to overthrow you or…depose you?” Jeff fumbled for the right word. “He kept saying what a good job I had done as Acting King, and didn’t I think I deserved to be king for real?”
Beatrice felt like she was seeing spots. She closed her hands around the crystal tumbler so tight that its ridges imprinted in the flesh of her palm.
“Do you want that?” she whispered.
“Hell, no. It’s a miserable job.”
She let out a strangled laugh, and Jeff winced. “Sorry, no offense.”
“None taken.”
“It’s just…it’s nonstop work. And no matter how hard you try, you inevitably offend someone, and no matter how much you accomplish, there’s always a mountain of other problems waiting to be addressed. How do you do it, Bee?”
“I don’t know.” Because she had no other choice. Because she had trained for it her whole life.
It was nice, though, knowing that another family member finally understood the burden she carried. She had to grapple with the weight of so many things: America’s past, its present, its future.
A future that might not include her.
“I have a whole new appreciation for you after being your Regent.” Jeff lifted his glass in her direction. “You make the toughest job in the world look easy.”
Beatrice gave a wry smile. “There’s nothing easy about it, is there? But you did a fantastic job covering for me. Thank you,” she added.
“I should say, it wasn’t all bad. I loved getting to meet so many people.” Jeff hesitated before saying, “It was nice, feeling like I actually made a difference for a change.”
“You’ve always made a difference!”
Jeff shot her a glance, and she fell silent, well aware what he’d meant. As the third in line to rule, Jeff had occupied a uniquely relaxed and uncontroversial position—until now.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “You’re right, we didn’t give you the opportunity to make much of a difference before.”
“To be fair, that was Mom and Dad’s decision, not yours. Also, the jobs I had were really fun ones. I don’t want to give those away.”
“Like when you parachuted into the Super Bowl halftime show?”
“That was for charity!” Jeff protested. “But, yes, I like doing those things—raising awareness for causes, building connections where we need goodwill. I just don’t want them to be the only things I do.”
“What are you thinking, then?”
Jeff seemed nervous as he replied, “Once I’m done with school, I want to serve in the military.”
He kept talking, explaining how he felt called to give back in some way—how he dreamed of flying the attack helicopters used in specialized operations—but Beatrice cut him off.