Before Dree thought about what her place was in that particular room, she blurted, “Would Jules do that to his own daughter?”
She clapped her hand over her mouth. She should not be asking questions of all the royal people.
Maxence nodded. “I wouldn’t put anything past Jules.”
Well, she’d gotten away with asking a question, maybe she could say more. “He seemed so nice when we met him on the helipad.”
Oh, jeez. She sounded like a naïve ninny. They were going to laugh at her.
But they didn’t.
Alexandre and Maxence nodded slowly, almost sadly.
Georgie said quietly to her, “Psychopaths always seem like really nice people. One of my best friends is working on her Master’s in behavioral psychology. Rae wants to work with autistic kids, but she did a clinical rotation in a prison. She facilitated a therapy group for some inmates who scored high on the psychopathy scale. She said you never knew what they were thinking. Inside, they didn’t have any real emotions other than irritation and rage, so they pretended to show whatever emotion would be the right one. They had all become really good at hiding that they had no positive emotions at all, not friendship, not affection, not love, not even pity.”
Dree blinked, and her fingers clutching the stylus felt cold. “Back in the hospital I worked at, I think some of the surgeons were like that.”
Georgie nodded. “They say surgeons, CEOs, and certain politicians score high on the psychopathy scales, especially those who use hate and fear to get you to vote for them.”
Dree tried not to recoil, but her back curled as she shrank in the chair.
Alexandre said, “Jules will doubtlessly use negative emotions like hate and fear to garner votes for himself in the Council of Nobles.”
Maxence asked Alexandre, “And so the question remains, whom do we put forth as our candidate?”
Alexandre shrugged. “Christian? Andrea Casiraghi?”
Dree almost snorted. Well, would you look at that? Alexandre pronouncedAndreawrong, too.Ahn-DRAY-uh.How funny.
Georgie said, “I would think your first bet would be to figure out whowantsit. You don’t want to go through all these negotiations and political theater to get everybody to vote for your candidate, and then your candidate renounces and runs away to Nome, Alaska.”
“You find somebody,” Alexandre said to Maxence. “I pulled together the coalition to keep Jules from getting elected in the first place. You find somebody who wants to go to all the bother of being the prince of this postage stamp.”
Dree took a few notes for the rest of the meeting, but it seemed like after that, everybody just gossiped about the escapades of relatives instead of making any plans.
But she did write in the document:Maxence’s job is to find a candidate for the prince/princess.
And then she erased theprince/princesspart and wrotebreed of sheep.
Georgie kept drawing Dree into the conversation and whispering background on the people they were gossiping about, so Dree talked too much.
Max didn’t scowl, though. He just ordered a cup of tea for her, too.
Later, after Georgie and Xan Valentine had left the office, Quentin Sault tucked a small notepad into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket as he followed them out.
Dree turned back to Max. “So, you and Alexandre, were you two an item?”
Maxence startled and looked up from the tablet he was reading.“What?”
She shrugged. “I mean because, you know, he’s cute.”
Max squinted at her. “He’s mycousin.”
“Evidently, he’s your kissin’ cousin,” she giggled.
Maxence frowned.“No.He’s myfirstcousin. Our fathers were full-blooded brothers. We grew up together like brothers at boarding school even though he’s a few years younger than I am.”
“Doesn’t seem like that was a problem for most kings and queens, marrying their cousins and nieces and stuff.”
