“We have a quorum here, why not?” Mrs. Trent said. “Your Highness, if you will grant us half an hour to look over this bill, we’ll debate and then vote.”
“That is reasonable, thank you,” I said.
Georgiana, Uncle, and I left the room. Georgiana refused to meet Uncle’s gaze or speak a word to him. I didn’t blame her. I had mixed feelings about Uncle and would be relieved when he was behind bars, but he was also assisting us because he still had power.
“Well, my boy. It looks like you've got this in hand.” He gave me a sad smile. “I hope someday you see that all I was trying to do was save lives.”
Georgiana only took another step away from him.
“I’ll go and turn myself in. I wanted to say I’m terribly sorry for how this played out. I’m sorry to you and to Georgiana. I won’t make you respond to that. I’ll just go.” And with that, my uncle walked off and opened the door to his limo. “Dan, good sir, I’m going to need you to take me to the police. I must confess to murder.”
After forty-five minutes, the council, still gathered in the stifling room, called a quorum and agreed to vote. I held my breath, my heart leaping with every yay and sinking for every nay.
Georgiana sat as still as death. I took her hand and squeezed.
“Breathe,” I whispered to her.
She nodded and sucked in a bit of air. I’m not sure I took a breath until the last vote had been taken.
I’d been carefully counting, and my world exploded with relief when I realized the bill had passed.
I rose on shaky legs. “Thank you for doing the right thing.”
“We have one more vote to take,” John Rittle said. “Like I said before, the prince and I have had our differences. However, it is clear from his initiative and the way he cares for others that he’ll make a fine king. I propose we vote him in to take his place as king this instant, if he is willing.”
“I second that,” Mrs. Trent agreed.
Surprise and a thousand other feelings washed over me, but there was only one answer. I had John Rittle, of all people, on my side. With the influence that he and Mrs. Trent wielded with the other members of the council, there would never be a better time.
“I’m willing,” I said.
Again the vote went around the room, this one nearly unanimous in my favor.
“It’s decided,” John Rittle announced. “Fitzwilliam Valemont will take his place now as king, and we’ll hold his coronation in a few months.”
The council stood, and everyone bowed. “Your Majesty.”
The words struck me with the force of a physical blow. For a heartbeat, my pulse stumbled—too fast, too loud—crowding my chest with a sudden rush of doubt. King. The title felt impossibly heavy, like a cloak I wasn’t sure I was ready to lift. But as the council rose and the trust in their gazes met mine, something steadied inside me. A quiet clarity. This was the path I’d been shaped for, the destiny I’d feared and longed for in equal measure.
And like that, I was king.
“Thank you. I will take this responsibility seriously and use it to serve the fae and all magical races to the best of my ability.”
After the meeting, the group disbanded as people started leaving for the nightly festival activities.
I also moved to leave, and then saw Rosalie sitting on the stairs of the inn watching me. There was something else I needed todo, and while I was making brave declarations, I might as well do it now.
“Rosalie, will you come for a walk with me?”
“Sure! Let me grab my coat.” She raced up the steps, and seconds later returned wearing a heavy parka.
We walked down the street toward Cupid’s Confections of all places. Light snowflakes fell on the ground as we passed Miss Bates happily riding her yellow bicycle, waving to everyone she recognized.
“Why do you want to marry me?” I asked.
“It seems the right thing to do. My parents want us to, your aunt wants us to, your uncle wants us to,” Rosalie listed out. “And I mean, you seem nice enough.”
“I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. And to be completely honest, I’m not in love with you.”
