Page 83 of Wicked Queen

“There are limitations, measures Parliament has enacted to make this a representative government.”

“It’s still one group making all the decisions,” I pointed out.

“But will you win if it comes down to public opinion, because that’s where you’ll wage this battle. The laws are supposed to protect the will of the people, so who’s more concerned with their needs: you or them?”

It felt fairly obvious to me that we were all looking out for our own interests. “I want the best for my citizens but I’ll stop at nothing to protect my family. I dare any man to claim differently.”

“You are not any man,” Norris said.

“Hence the slap on the wrist,” Smith said. “It seems to me that they want you to be more in tune with rule of law.”

“How do I do that?” I snapped.

“I think they want due consideration to their opinion.”

“A united front,” I muttered, “with sodding Parliament.”

“If you’re right, though, and they’re Council of Ghosts, you’d be wise to heed their concerns.”

“I won’t be told what to do by a group of men clinging to some ancient sense of entitlement.”

“That’s not why you should consider them,” Smith said with a hollow chuckle. “If they are the Kingmakers—this Council of Ghosts of yours, they might be the strongest allies we can make. Whoever we’re up against has resources and contacts—and we have a lot to lose.”

“We do,” I said. “If I’m going to do this, I’ll need someone who understands the letter of law and doesn’t mind walking its edge. I know you wanted to leave this life behind, but it doesn’t seem ready to give you up yet. Come to work for me.”

“That depends.” Smith turned and looked me dead in the eye. “I have to know you’re a man who can make a deal with the devil and not mind the heat when it’s time to burn.”

“You’ll see me dancing in hell,” I vowed.

Chapter 25

Clara

“Why are we doing this again?” Belle asked as she hung up her tenth call of the morning. She’d been stationed on my sofa in a pair of yoga pants and a loose sweatshirt since breakfast, when she’d shown up complaining that she would help—if she didn’t die of insomnia first.

“Because my sister needs us to prove we love her,” Edward reminded her.

“I think that none of us having murdered her should be enough proof,” David said, paging through a magazine. Of the lot of us, he was having the most fun. Party planning was in his blood. At least one of us was enjoying himself. I couldn’t quite forget that nearly every large party I’d ever hosted had ended poorly.

“He has a point.” Georgia’s contribution consisted of watching us from the table, her feet propped casually on what was likely a priceless heirloom.

“Why is she here?” Belle glared at her.

I shrugged. I wasn’t about to drop the f-word in mixed company. Plus, the fact that Georgia flatly refused to participate seemed to undermine any burgeoning friendship between us.

“I hate this guest list,” Edward announced, “so Sarah will love it.”

He passed it to me and I scanned the list of names. Half consisted of people that made me want to vomit. The other half meant nothing to me. It was on par with most Royal events I’d been forced to attend.

“You didn’t ask Sarah for these people, right?” I asked. The party was meant to be a surprise. Part of me hoped she might think we’d been planning it before she reminded me her birthday was this week.

“A guest list for Sarah is easy,” he said. “I invited everyone I wouldn’t want at my wedding.”

“You had like ten people at your wedding,” I pointed out. In the end, Edward and David had opted for a simple, private affair witnessed by those closest to them. I was more than a little envious of the lack of spectacle.

“You had less,” he reminded me.

“The first wedding or the second?” I asked.