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PROLOGUE
“Victoria, will you sit down already? We’re landing soon,” Elizabeth told her sister.
“Oh, my apologies. Are you the pilot now? No, you’re my pain-in-the-ass, older sister.” Victoria flopped into the empty luxury seat next to her. “Do you think Father will approve?”
“He hasn’t met him yet.”
“Youhave.” Victoria turned her head toward Elizabeth as she buckled her seatbelt. “That’s what this little mission was all about. Your opinion is important. If you sign off, Daddy will meet him next.”
“You know you don’tactuallyneed his permission, right? That’s just an old custom,” Elizabeth replied.
“Please. It isnotjust an old custom; it’s the law.”
“That literally no one cares about anymore,” Elizabeth added.
“Stop stalling and tell me what you think about David, Lizzy.”
“You really love him, don’t you?”
Victoria’s eyes brightened as she said, “I do. I want to marry him. I know I’m only twenty-three, and Father said he wants me to wait a bit, but David and I have already been together for a year. Father hasn’t even met him.”
“Heispretty busy,” Elizabeth reminded.
“He met both of our brothers’ girlfriends by the time they’d been together for only three months.”
“They’re a little more important than us, though, aren’t they? You know that,” Elizabeth told her sister.
“Alex is a littlelessimportant now, isn’t he?” Victoria argued. “Martin has Edwina and Anthony, so Alex is off the hook,” she added, speaking about her two brothers and the oldest, Martin’s, two children.
“I suppose that’s true,” Elizabeth laughed.
The private secretary she and Victoria shared approached them with an ashen-white face and an expression that told Elizabeth the woman was either about to be ill from the slight turbulence of the aircraft or that something terrible had happened. Elizabeth hoped it was just the turbulence. Then again, she supposed, it could be both. The secretary stood over the two of them and attempted to gather herself.
“Your Royal Highness, Princess,” she greeted both of them. “I am afraid I must inform you of something I am quite unprepared for.”
“Rebecca, what’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked, sitting up fully in her seat now.
“There was an incident.” The woman swallowed hard.
“Incident?” Victoria asked, sounding confused.
Elizabeth placed a calming hand on top of her sister’s hand on their shared armrest and stared up at Rebecca.
“There was an attack at the opening of the children’s hospital. Your–”
“Attack?” Elizabeth cut her off.
“Your Royal Hi–”
“Rebecca,” Victoria cut the woman off this time. “She’s Lizzy. I’m Vicky. You’ve known us for five years. Just tell us,” she prompted.
“I’m afraid your father is… The King is dead,” Rebecca managed out finally, letting a tear escape her right eye. “Long live the Queen,” she added.
But Elizabeth hadn’t heard her. She’d only heard that her father, King Maxwell I, was dead. He was gone. Her father was dead? How was that even possible? He was fine.
“What?” Victoria asked, cupping her hand over her mouth now. “What? Wait.” She lowered her hand. “You just said, ‘Long live theQueen.’”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes to her lap. Her breath was coming in short gasps. Had she heard her sister correctly? She then looked back up at a still crying Rebecca, silently begging her to correct that statement because that meant something else had happened, too.
