“No, she’s… not what grandmother wanted,” I admit finally.
Elizabeth laughs under her breath. “None of us ever are. That woman is perpetually displeased with the world.”
“She’s American,” I continue. “Working class. No political connections. No ambition for the crown. She works two jobs. Teaches yoga. Tells me to my face when she thinks I’m being an ass.”
She beams at me. “Oh, I know. I’ve seen it. I love her already.”
Ditto.
Despite myself, a smile tugs at my mouth.
Elizabeth catches it. Her light brown eyes, mirrors to mine, narrow on my face through the screen. I meet her steadily. There’s no way… She won’t be able to-
“Youkissedher,” Elizabeth accuses suddenly, jerking one finger up to point at me. “You little wanker! You kissed Florence.”
“Shhh,” I hiss, glancing around like I’m worried the production crew might be lurking in the corners of my room,angry that I kissed Ren while the cameras weren’t on. A private moment for just us.
“When?” my sister demands.
“Two nights ago,” I sigh, admitting defeat.
“How was it?”
I close my eyes, still feeling the press of Florence’s mouth to mine. “Catastrophic. World ending. Apocalyptic.”
Her grin turns wicked. “Congratulations.”
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” I huff at her, annoyed at the joy she’s clearly feeling in my agony.
“No,” she corrects gently. “I’m enjoying watching you finally understand what I learned long ago.”
I open my eyes again. “Understand what?”
“That love doesn’t ask permission,” she says. “And it almost never bows to duty.”
I swallow, feeling those words in my guts, accompanied by a fair amount of… anxiety.
If she’s right… I don’t know what I’ll do. How I’ll handle this.
I’ve always done my duty to my grandmother, to the crown, to the Ashbourne name. Even when I bonded with Piers and Grieves, it wasn’t outside of the bounds of what was required of me. But Florence? She’s in direct opposition to everything my grandmother has asked me to do here.
Elizabeth leans closer to the camera, voice lowering. “Does Florence know?”
“No,” I deny immediately, heart thundering in my chest for some unknown reason. “And she can’t.”
Elizabeth nods slowly. “Because of her upbringing?”
“Because of everything,” I snap, then rein myself in. “Because of grandmother. Because of the crown. Because I refuse to destroy her the way-”
The way they tried to destroy you.
I don’t say it. Elizabeth hears it anyway. Her entire face crumples into a scowl. “She’s already threatening you, isn’t she? Threatening Florence.”
My jaw tightens. My twin doesn’t need my answer. She knows the depths to which our grandmother will sink. When she’d found Bree, when she fell in love with her, my grandmother forbade her from taking her as her omega. Grams wanted her to have a male omega, so any children born in the pack would come from Elizabeth, would have Ashbourne blood.
Lizzie ignored her and was almost stripped of succession. The only things that stopped that from happening were the love of the Bravonnian people for my sister, and that the alternative—my pack—would have no guarantee of Ashbourne blood in any of the children born, given the nature of an omega’s heat.
At least with Elizabeth, they’ll know which children are hers. It's an outdated way of thinking, but no one can accuse my grandmother of being forward thinking.
