Traitors
Maxence
After a five-minute walk from his palace office, Maxence slipped into the back of the courtroom in Monaco’s courthouse, located a few streets away from the palace and across a tiny street from the cathedral where his parents and brother were buried.
His two bodyguards, now from Monaco’s Secret Service as his confidence in them had grown, discreetly secured the area as he settled into the back row, stretching his long legs.
Up at the front, the magistrate was reading the verdicts in the case of the Crown versus Lady Marie-Therese Grimaldi, accused of drug trafficking, collusion, accessory to kidnapping, attempted murder, sedition, and treason.
She broke down sobbing as each verdict came back guilty. She would be remanded to a prison in France for thirty years to the rest of her life.
Her father’s sentences had been handed down earlier that morning and were essentially the same.
Maxence watched his cousin, whom he’d played with as a child and been at school at Le Rosey for nearly half their lives together, clawing at the table as the bailiffs dragged her out. Her dark hair was tied back in a lank ponytail, split ends frizzing out from the sides.
He would consider commuting their sentences in the future, maybe in five years or a decade.
But it couldn’t be too soon.
When treason is not punished and stopped in its tracks, it is only a dress rehearsal for a larger attempt at overthrowing the government.
When Hitler had incited two thousand Nazis to march on Munich in 1923, he’d received a light punishment for it because he was such a promising young man.
Maxence would not allow Monaco to become a failed state ruled by racists and fascists.
He left the courtroom quietly and didn’t look back.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Swan
Maxence
Afew weeks later, Maxence found Dree sitting on the floor of her closet in her fluffy white bathrobe, her arms resting on her knees as she stared up at the mass of dresses hanging from the rods.
Maxence was fitting the buttons on his tuxedo shirt through the buttonholes, always a delicate operation. “If you don’t want to attend the reception tonight, it’s completely all right. Your presence wasn’t announced, so there won’t even be excuses to make.”
She stared up at him, her blue eyes wide and vulnerable. “I don’t know what to wear.”
Maxence determined that there were at least fifty gowns of differing lengths and levels of formality hanging on the rods around them with a quick visual count. Half of them would be perfectly suitable. “Are these not to your style? Tommaso said the stylists hadn’t had any direction from you, so they chose a range of possibilities and are awaiting your feedback on their choices.”
Tears wobbled in Dree’s eyes. “I don’t know which one to pick. I don’t know which one is appropriate. I don’t even know how to put some of them on. I kind of like that pink one, but I can’t find the zipper on it anywhere. And I don’t know if it’s the right length or fussiness or anything else. Other than yourenthronementand the Sea Change Gala where Chiara and the seamstresses told me what I would be wearing, the last time I had to wear a formal dress like this was my high school prom. My mom sewed my prom dress for me out of Mandi’s dress from the year before and some extra glittery trim. And I washappywith it. I’m going to screw it up, and I’m going to embarrass you, and all those people taking pictures of us will say what a stupid country hick I am.”
The tears overflowed her eyes and dripped down her clean face.
Maxence gave up buttoning the shirt and squatted down beside her in the bottom of the closet amongst the shoe racks. “You know you have stylists who will help you pick something out, and then help you put it on, and then do your makeup and hair for you.”
“I can do my own hair and makeup. The enthronement was a special case, like a wedding. I don’t need people to fuss over and primp me every dang day.”
“For the last few months, Tommaso hasn’t been helping me dress because he thought we wanted some private time together since our relationship is a bit new, which is correct. He’ll probably start coming in soon, though.”
“You are so spoiled,” she fretted.
Max chuckled. “It saves time. When I had state events to attend as a teenager, Tommaso laid my clothes out for me, helped me shave properly, and trimmed my hair if necessary, and it usually was necessary. And then, he helped me dress. Tommaso taught me how to tie a tie and insert my cufflinks. My father’s valet taught me how to tie my shoes when I was three.”
Her face creased in a stubborn little frown. “I cantiemyshoes.I can put on my own pantyhose. I don’t need some stranger to come in and dress me like I’m a baby.”
He smiled down at his pretty little Dree. “You’re not a baby. You are a nurse practitioner who saved Lady Valentina Martini’s lifetwice.The second time was by defibrillating her heart, but the first time was by insisting that the first-aid tent and the defibrillator were at the enthronement at all. You don’t have to be good at everything. Are you planning the wedding all by yourself with no input from anybody else?”
