My dad raised an army to go to war against the king. Why? What could King Phillipe possibly have done to deserve that?
I always saw my dad as a hero, and yesterday I watched as Sutton looked at the king the same way. I was quickly learning that there were no heroes. There were no villains either. Just a bunch of people fighting for separate causes.
“I can’t listen to this. I need to go.” I started toward the door.
Keaton grabbed my arm, squeezing it in his strong hand. “Don’t be stupid, Katie.”
Jonathon set his now empty glass on the bar behind him. His face was a blank slate as he watched me walk away from them. “Let her go.”
Keaton released his grip, looking at me with a softness that almost made me forget it was all a lie. I didn’t want to believe he was capable of all the things he just said. I wanted to see the good, but there was nothing good about what they had planned, about what my father had planned. My legs were weak, but I ran out the door. I ran down the road and past the train. I ran until my lungs burned. All the way back to the castle.
Twenty-Four
I either needed to get the fuck out of this castle or drink myself to sleep. Maybe both. Last night I went Katie’s villa because… fuck a last name—hers and mine. I couldn’t give two shits whose nuts she came from, and neither would the rest of the world if she would just give me the chance to show her. She wanted coffee? I’d buy her the whole goddamn café. And she would have the people of Torryn eating right out of her hands. She would win them over, exactly like she did me. She would see for herself. If she would give me a chance…
As soon as I passed the fountain in the South Garden, I saw them. Keaton was at her front door. She looked at him as though he had the answers to every question she’d ever searched for. He turned to walk away, and I almost ran to her door and stopped her before she could close it. But he took one look at me with that fucking devil’s gleam in his eyes, then called out over his shoulder, “You made the right choice. You’re better off without him.”
She chose him. She let me walk away, and she ran straight to him.
Now, I sat in a leather chair behind my desk, twirling a pen between my fingers and listening to my mother go on about the importance of finding a “respectable” queen. Apparently, Dad told her his theory about Katie and me and started the shitstorm of the century.
She paced back and forth on the other side of my desk. Her hair was pinned up, and her outfit was tailored to perfection. She carried on about “obligation” and “responsibility,” and all I could think about was that if… fuck that—when—Katie became queen, I wanted her hair down, flowing in those messy waves over her shoulders. She’d wear sundresses instead of Prada. And I was calling her Katie. Screw tradition and etiquette. Full names my ass. My mother was spitting the name Katarina across the room like it was acid on her tongue.
“Katarina Bellizzi will not wear that crown.” She flattened a palm over her chest and heaved a breath as though even saying the words caused her physical pain. She stopped pacing and looked at me. “Are you even listening to me?”
I leaned back in my chair and tipped my head to the side. “Considering you aren’t giving me much of a choice, yes. I’m listening.”
“I’ve set up a meeting with Prime Minister Bellarosa’s daughter this evening. The staff is already making preparations.”
By meeting, she meant date. She made a date for me. With Julianna fucking Bellarosa of all people.
A little over an hour ago, I took an oath in front of Privy Council. By all rights and privileges, I was regent. I respected my mother, loved her even, but no one got to decide what was best for me, not anymore.
I set the pen on my desk and straightened in my chair. “I’ll call down and cancel.”
Mom walked to the front of my desk, her delicate hands gripping the edge. She leaned forward and glared. “You may be acting as king, but I am still your mother. And I’m telling you to stay away from that girl.”
There was a mental condition, a personality trait that some people had, where every time someone demanded they do something, they did something else just for spite. I had that condition. I was that person. Just like Dad telling me to either learn piano or French, and I chose both. Or the time he demanded I shadow our guards to learn their discipline, so I joined the military instead. My mother telling me to stay away from Katie only made me want her more. What I didn’t understand was why.
“What could you possibly have against Katie Bellizzi? Her mother is your secretary. She’s practically the only real friend you have.”
I watched Katherine with my parents. I saw how she cared for my mother. It was genuine. Anyone with eyes could see that.
“My friend?” She huffed a laugh. “Sutton, please. Your father brought those people into our home out of some twisted sense of loyalty. I blame his illness for that insane decision.”
Dad may not have been the perfect father, but he was a good man. He was a great king. Even when they tried to take his crown, he smiled at them with grace. Never regret doing the right thing, even if it’s for the wrong people.
“Those people? Are you listening to yourself? And Matteo saved Dad’s life. Or did you forget?”
Her expression morphed from simply being stern to full of hatred. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of my desk. “He tried to take your father’s throne. Or did you forget?”
“The keyword being he. Matteo Bellizzi did that. His wife and daughter had nothing to do with it.”
“Now you sound just like your father. The good thing is that once he dies, his obligation to them is over. We owe them nothing. We will make them leave. And that will be a hell of a lot easier to do if you aren’t sleeping with one of them.”
Katie wasn’t going any fucking where, at least not if I could help it.
“Make them leave? Katherine is your secretary for fuck’s sake. She knows everything about you.”
A malicious grin spread across her typically elegant face. “Language, Sutton. And you know what they say. Keep your friends close…”
And your enemies closer.
Jesus, when had she become so cruel? The woman standing in front of me was not the mother I thought I knew. Katie Bellizzi and her mother were not the enemy. I was about to respond exactly that when a call from the guard’s shack came through.
“I apologize for the interruption, Your Highness, but you said you wanted me to investigate the new owner of the Bellizzi Estate,” Antonio said once I answered the call.
I placed my hand over the phone then glanced up at my mother who was searching my face for a clue as to who was on the other line. “Excuse me, Mom. I need to take this.” She let go of my desk and stood up straight, softening her features again. Her lips thinned to a strained smile. My eyes met hers in a firm stare. “Privately,” I added.
Mom let out a huff of disbelief, then smoothed her hands along the front of her dress and walked out the door. I would find her later, because this conversation was far from over.
“Go ahead,” I told Antonio once Mom was out of the room with the door closed behind her.
For the next few minutes, I listened to him. Words like “mutiny,” “organized,” and “coup” came up a few times. I knew all that already, even though finding out the man who bought Katie’s farm was the new leader of the rebellion was a surprise. Dad had been dealing with it for five years. I knew by inheriting his crown that I would inherit his enemies. When the time came, I would deal with them my own way. What I wasn’t prepared for was what he said next.