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“As you, and most of the world, know,” Marina began, “it’s been a... difficult few years for the Company.”
Despite the expressed sentiment, Jameson smiled at the name the royal family actually used when describing themselves. The public thought it was “the Firm,” thanks to a joke ascribed to the queen’s youngest daughter, his aunt Princess Bettina. Now, the press believed they had “insider” information and dropped the term into every story or documentary where the royals were mentioned.
“That would be an understatement,” he agreed.
“Between Calliope’s divorce, Alcott’s crises, and the children not doing well... it’s been challenging.”
Princess Calliope, the queen’s sister, had left her husband of thirty years after letters he’d written to his twenty-three-year-old lover had been printed in theDaily Mailonline. According to Jameson’s mother, and the royal ladies who tea, Calliope could’ve gotten over the affair. But having everyone read the elderly Lord Fulham rhapsodizing over the “supple smoothness” of the much younger woman’s hair and skin had been too much for her to bear.
The queen’s brother, Prince Alcott, while still married, was facing scandals of a financial nature. He was currently being investigated for fraud, and the Tea Trust seemed to believe Alcott irrationally blamed his situation on the fact that his sister, instead of him, had succeeded to the throne by virtue of King George V’s letters patent establishing the rule of absolute primogeniture.
“They wouldn’t dare do this if I was king,” he’d been heard to say.
The term “the children” referred to the queen’s grown offspring: Julian, Catherine, and Bettina. Between predilections for partying, constant whispers of infidelity, and severe lapses in judgment—big-game hunting endangered species, anyone?—it appeared the next generation wasn’t doing any better handling royal life than their predecessors had.
Jameson knew most commoners weren’t brimming with sympathy for these public faux pas. They assumed life as a royal was filledwith incredible clothes, famous people, and glamorous events, a snap of the fingers bringing anything one’s heart desired.
He didn’t deny there were perks, but he knew most of his family would agree those benefits were a balm for a demanding way of life. Cameras always flashing, documenting everything, even when the attention was unwanted; people feeling free to comment on their choices, whether they were asked or not; and the inability to beg off attending an event, no matter what they’d been through or how they felt.
It might seem inconsequential, but day after day, year after year—with no end in sight—the negligible added up. A gilded cage was, after all, still a cage.
“Now I’m being informed there are renewed calls for the abolishment of the monarchy,” Marina was saying.
He frowned. “That’s not new.”
“No. But this anti-monarch sentiment has been gaining traction since we asked for the money to renovate the palace several years ago.”
The dissolution of the monarchy was Marina’s biggest fear. From the moment she’d ascended to the throne, she’d taken her responsibilities seriously and truly considered herself the steward of a dynasty that had spanned a millennium. The idea of losing it on her watch was untenable.
“Other countries have gotten rid of their monarchies by public referendum, but I’m fairly certain ours isn’t going anywhere anytime soon,” he said.
The pale skin between the queen’s brows furrowed. “Public opinion shows strong support for the monarchy as an institution but little for specific members. In fact, there have been suggestions that Julian and Bettina devalue the solemnity of the monarch.”
Jameson squelched his instinctual amusement at her statement.The queen was paying attention to and quoting polling? The situation must be more dire than he thought.
“There was a time when the royal family enjoyed considerable approval from the public. When John was alive, and the children were young...”
Though her posture remained stiff, she looked away, a shroud of grief seeming to seep over her at the mention of her late husband and Jameson’s grandfather Prince John, who’d died from a heart attack ten years ago. Jameson averted his gaze, offering her the privacy she needed.
After several moments, the queen cleared her throat and continued.
“Sixteen years ago, when Julian married Fiona, over a billion people around the world watched the wedding live. The heir to the throne and his beautiful bride. The press abandoned their usual snide coverage for an overwhelmingly positive tone, and Julian and Fi’s images were printed on everything from teacups to place mats.”
Jameson was astonished at the wistfulness in her voice. “I thought you hated all of that.”
“I do. We’re not celebrities. As queen, I’m the head of state and the family is supposed to support me in carrying out my many duties. But it... matters when the people you represent think highly of you. In fact, I’d say it’s essential. We have to be viewed as an ideal and beyond reproach. If not, we’re no different from any other family of privilege. And the public will start to wonder why they’re spending funds on us.”
Is this why she summoned me? To discuss her thoughts on the public’s current sentiments regarding the monarchy?
He’d thought she was far too busy for such musings. He was.
She set her jaw, her blue eyes resolute. “I think the country—no,the world—needs to be reminded of our worth, our global contributions.”
He had no reason to disagree. It sounded like a creditable goal. Did that explain her nostalgia about Julian and Fiona? A royal wedding would’ve been ideal. The pomp and circumstance involved in those occasions never ceased to bring the nation together. Unfortunately, no one in the family was engaged. He wondered what Marina had in mind.
And what any of this had to do with him.
His heart stuttered to a stop. She hadn’t called him here to force him to marry, had she?
