The power red was doubtlessly a ploy to make sure she would stand out in the pictures from that day, and red was one of Monaco’s national colors, Maxence mused.Well played.
Marie-Therese said, “As soon as I finished university, Icame backto Monaco. I have been here ever since, working in the palace, attending the events, showing up to do my part.”
The crowd murmured, and Maxence examined his black athletic shoes on the dais’s red carpeting.
She continued, “Monaco formed the Crown Council to ensure that the throne didn’t pass to a foreigner who wouldn’t have our best interests at heart. Nearly a century ago during the succession crisis of 1918, a German Duke who’d never even lived here would have inherited the throne in the final year of World War I, and he and his family would have held the throne afterward. Monaco almost became a Nazi U-boat military base on the coast of France.”
Maxence bided his time, not liking the analogy.
Marie-Therese continued, “Prince Maxence grew up inSwitzerlandand attended graduate school inCentral America. He has closer ties to the Democratic Republic of the Congo, where he keeps two women and their children, than he does to Monaco. He has closer ties to Rome and New York, where he keeps apartments, because he does not own a residence in Monaco. He stays in the hotel by the casino rather than the palace, except for this trip,nowthat it matters how it looks.”
She looked dead-straight at Maxence and accused him. “Monaco isn’t yourhome.It’s just a bank where you can pick up money from your trust fund. You didn’t come back until you could get your hands on the throne.”
There were good reasons why Max hadn’t come back to Monaco on a regular basis, but any answer to her rebuke was an admission to more than Maxence wanted to say about his brother.
He paused, and his eyes drifted to the throne, where he’d seen his grandfather and then his uncle sit during important functions all his life.
Above the throne was the Grimaldi coat of arms, the scarlet and white harlequin pattern also engraved on his arm, marking him as belonging to Monaco his whole life. The Grimaldi motto was emblazoned below the shield and coat of arms, which wasDeo Juvante,With God’s Help.
With God’s Help.
Footfalls clattered on the side of the dais.
Maxence took three steps backward to place himself between Dree, who was still sitting in the chair and taking notes about the proceedings, and whomever was coming up onto the stage.
Max spread his arms and braced himself.
By the time he saw that it was Arthur and Casimir who were crowding onto the dais, he was already blocking their way. “What are you guys doing?”
Casimir slapped Maxence on the shoulder, grinning so hard that his green eyes squinted. “Saving your ass.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS
Maxence
Arthur Finch-Hatten, Earl of Severn and the absolute embodiment of the termdebonair Englishman,approached the front of the dais. He spread his arms, preparing to orate.
Maxence stepped closer to him, readying himself to whisper in Arthur’s ear to shut the hell up or shove him off the dais, depending on what he said.
Arthur spoke to the assembled crowd of Monegasque aristocrats. “Prince Maxence Grimaldi didn’t return to Monaco often because every time he did, his brother tried to murder him.”
That little revelation elicited gasps from the room and a sad head shake from Max. They could have talked all day before he’d admitted that.
Arthur continued, “Maxence is, as usual, being modest andfartoo kind. As Alexandre said, there have been whispers for a decade or longer that Maxenceshouldbe the one to succeed his uncle as the next Prince of Monaco instead of Pierre. It’s not only talked aboutinsideMonaco, you know. As a result, Pierre has tried to kill Maxence at least five times that I know about, and probably many more than that.”
When he put it like that, no wonder Max was a little jumpy sometimes.
Arthur pointed at him. “Did you see how he moved in front of his secretary when he heard somebody walking up behind him? He protectedherbecause he assumed someone in Monaco’s Secret Service was coming to kill him.”
Dree piped up from her chair. “It’s true.”
Maxence spun as she spoke.
Dree’s earnest nod was wee and adorable. She said, “When we were in Paris, people were following us. And then when we were in Nepal, when Quentin Sault came and found Max to tell him his brother had died and he needed to go back to Monaco, right then when we were at the little inn at the base of the Himalayas, Maxence told me that when he’d seen Quentin Sault in the lobby, he’d assumed Sault was there to kill him. When he asked Sault if he would’ve done it, Sault didn’t answer. No wonder Maxence rarely came back, since Pierre was always threatening or actuallytryingto kill him.”
Lady Valentina stepped forward to the very bottom of the dais. “Maxence? Is this true?”
