Davis cracks one eye open as we pass. “Everything okay?”
“Fine.” I settle into my seat, and Addison tucks herself against my side. “Just stretching our legs.”
He studies me for a second longer than necessary, but doesn’t push. He nods and closes his eyes.
The hours crawl by. At some point, sunlight passes through the windows, and the flight attendant brings coffee. Davis is asleep, snoring softly. Addison is out, too, but sleep doesn’t come for me, no matter how hard I try.
I keep thinking about the chess games my father and I used to play when I was younger, before the pressures of the Crown turned every conversation into a negotiation. He taught me to think three moves ahead, to anticipate my opponent’s strategy before they executed it. But I can’t prepare myself because I don’t know or understand his endgame, not after he refused treatments.
The pilot announces our descent, and Montclaire opens up below us. The coastline appears first, with early morning light reflecting off the water, followed by the rolling hills and the green fields that stretch toward the horizon. The palace sits on the cliff, its white stone glowing pink in the sunrise, looking exactly the way it always has for hundreds of years.
The plane touches down and taxis toward a private hangar. The engines cut, and the cabin falls silent.
Davis stretches as he stands. “Moment of truth, I suppose.”
I’m fucking exhausted.
A black sedan waits with the engine running, and we slide in with Davis taking the front seat beside the driver.
We pull away and travel down the service roads that circle the airfield. The sun climbs higher as we drive, painting the hills gold and making the dew on the grass sparkle.
We pass through the palace gates without stopping, the guards waving us through like they’ve been expecting us. They absolutely have.
We drive past the gardens where I used to play as a child, the fountain where Delphine and I threw coins and made wishes, thecottage where Addison lived while she worked on my portrait. Each landmark blurs into the next as we wind toward the main entrance.
The car stops at the front steps, and an attendant opens the door before the engine fully cuts off.
“Your Highness, His Majesty is waiting in his private study.” He pauses. “The three of you have been requested to join.”
I take Addison’s hand in mine as we follow the attendant up the stone steps and through the main doors. The entrance hall is empty at this hour, with morning light streaming through the tall windows. We pass portraits of my ancestors, who look down with painted disapproval, tapestries depicting battles fought centuries ago, and the old wooden clock that’s been counting minutes in this hallway since my great-grandfather’s reign.
Davis walks a step behind us, and the three of us look wildly out of place. I’m still wearing the suit I wore to Diamond, and Addison has on that red dress I couldn’t wait to peel off of her.
We turn down the corridor that leads to the north wing, past my mother’s sitting room, where I used to hang out with my grandmother. The attendant’s pace is brisk, and I have to lengthen my stride to keep up.
“How is he?” I ask when we get closer.
“Very eager to see you, sir.”
The attendant stops outside my father’s private study and knocks twice.
“Enter,” my father calls.
The man reaches for the handle, but I put my hand on his arm.
“I need a moment, please,” I say.
He steps back without question, his face carefully blank.
Addison turns to face me, grabbing both my hands. “Whatever’s on the other side of that door, you’re not alone. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to prepare for the worst. But Addison is here, her fingers laced with mine, her eyes steady on my face, and Davis is behind me, looking ready to follow me into whatever comes next.
I take a breath and open the door.
38
