She seemed worried those words might be taken to heart somehow. I offered her an arm in escort. “I know, Helena. The way that man looks at me is proof enough of how he feels.”
“Truly.” She smiled as she took my arm. “I think James is quite convinced the world was created just for you.”
“I cannot disagree. Speaking of relationships, how is yours going? From what I’ve seen, Lucien Glass rather looks at you the same way.”
She lowered her voice, tone gleeful. “I think we can seriously talk engagement by the end of the year.”
“No! Really?”
“Things are goingverywell. I do enjoy smart, competent men. James did well in introducing us for that reason alone. But I finally got him into bed last night—”
I just about missed a step and stared at her with wide eyes.
“—and Lucien is very much a man who knows what to do with his hands.” She gave me a little smirk.
Right, so their relationship was definitely going well. “Absolutely do not let go, then.”
“Oh, I have no intention of doing so.”
“But really? You think you’ll be engaged by the end of the year?”
“I think so. We’re already beginning the stages of entwining our lives together.”
Ah. Yes, that stage. James and I had speed-ran through that stage. In fact, in some ways, we were still in it.
I chatted with her about possibilities, hopes, and dreams, and was so pleased to see her this happy. Helena had been my stalwart support since the day she realized James loved me, and for that, I’d always be grateful. Whatever support she needed for her own wedding, I’d provide in spades.
I saw her off in her carriage, then went back to mine, as we weren’t going in the same direction. She’d return to the company to resume work, and I had a wedding and coronation to plan. While riding back up the hill, I turned to look at Victor’s ship and found it had set sail. I watched it go, feeling only a sense of relief. It was sad no one was remotely aggrieved to see him go. He’d always been so vocal about his power and authority, but his status as prince was a house of cards that had collapsed at the barest puff of air. In the end, no one had even pretended to miss him.
The age of Victor’s terror was now over.
I faced forward once more, watching as the palace came closer into view. The building sprawled out in every direction,the warm sandstone covered with ivy and moss, showing its age, but it looked charming in a way with its dark red roof. Built right on the cliff’s edge, the side facing the ocean had many windows that gleamed in the sunlight. My future was in there. If I somehow survived planning and executing a ceremony in a week, our future promised to be happy and fruitful.
Surviving the week—that was the trick.
There was one vital thing left to do, in fact. I had to get Valentina out. Westillhadn’t heard from her parents, and it left me to wonder if perhaps they, too, were desperate to get rid of a problem child. If some foreign princess had whisked Victor away, we wouldn’t have been too keen to get him back. Valentina was very much cut from the same cloth. Hospitality rules be damned, I no longer cared how this looked—I wanted her gone. With Victor annulling the engagement, we had no reason to keep her here, so back home she went. I didn’t give birth to that child. She wasn’t my responsibility.
All right, so assuming Ascor wouldn’t take her back readily regardless of her relationship with Victor, that meant I had to get rid of her somehow. My conversation with Judge Galbraith had made me think, and honestly, I couldn’t think of a single reason to wait. A trick that had been recently used against Helena sprang to mind, and I felt a plan blossom in my head.
Just a few tweaks from the last time this happened, so none of my people could be blamed... Oh yes, perfect. And with this, she’d be gone before the ceremony.
Win-win.
The very second I arrived back at the palace, I snuck into the record room to retrieve some select files. I picked a few that looked more important than they were, carried them with me, then went hunting. I had a few maids in mind, and I’d take the first one I could find.
Sir Seymour and Sir Collins followed me, and I could practically hear Sir Seymour’s confusion. Sir Collins seemed to have an idea, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.
I explained over my shoulder, “Sir Seymour, what’s more powerful than truth?”
“Er…is this a trick question?”
“The answer is belief. What people believe will trump the truth every time. Keep that in mind when you’re dealing with palace politics. Right now, you’re about to see it in action.”
“I, uh, am?”
“As soon as I find—ah, perfect. Tabitha!”
The maid in question held a basket of fresh-cut flowers in one hand. She was likely updating the floral arrangements in select rooms, meaning she was the perfect person to “trip over” the files.
