“Who cares about that anymore?” I ask. “Half the Parliament are mated to betas.”
Her eyes narrow, that ancient family talent for weaponizing disappointment in full effect. “You don’t have to believe in tradition, Kellen, but you must respect it. You will sever ties with Ms. Sumner by the end of the month, or I will do it for you. And I assure you, my method will be less pleasant for her.”
I glance at the painting of my great-great-grandfather, still glowering at the curtains like they personally offended him.
My mind was made up before returning from our yachting trip. “I’m not ending things with Piper. She makes me happier far more than all this.”
The queen’s nostrils flare. She studies me for a long moment, then reaches for the envelope perched on the tea tray. She slides it across the glass coffee table. My name is written across it in her signature script.
“Your trust fund review is next week,” she says. “I expect you to have reconsidered your position by then.”
We lock eyes. I almost want to laugh. She thinks I care about the money.
She actually thinks she can disown herprinceson so easily?
Or that the public will like her any better for it?
I know better than to directly ask her these questions. Instead, I stand. “Is that all?”
She dismisses me with a flick of her hand. “For now.”
I stand and resist the urge to bow or otherwise make a production of my exit. The walk to the door is an obstacle course of lion-footed end tables. I manage to make it three paces before she calls my name.
“Kellen.”
I stop, back straight. “Yes, Mother?”
She’s looking past me to the windows, at something only she can see. Her voice is so quiet I almost miss it. “I just want you to be safe.”
It lands heavier than any threat could.
“I know.” I make way for the door.
Elliot is waiting when I reach the corridor. He’s mastered the art of blending into palace walls.
He falls into step beside me. “That looked brutal.”
“It was character-building,” I reply.To say the least.
We make our way through the palace. Elliot waits until we’re safely out of range before nudging me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. It’s just—” I run a hand through my hair. “She’s going to come after Piper. Hard.”
Elliot glances over, then fixes me with the look he reserves for my more harebrained ideas. “You can’t control everything.”
I control nothing.
I wonder if I’ve just declared war.
I wonder if I’ve already lost.
CHAPTER 22
Piper
I’m crumpling yetanother page of notebook paper when my phone buzzes, then goes full on jackhammer in the space between me and the couch cushion. I stare at it, daring it to self-destruct. It does not, but the screen is strobing with notifications.
