“Finally—finally—someone who is brave enough not to hide.”
The tears spill over, and I swipe at them with the back of my hand, but more follow.
Louis stands abruptly and goes to his father. The king rises to meet him, and they embrace. I look away to give them privacy, studying the bookshelves while I try to pull myself together.
When they separate, both of them are wiping their eyes.
“There’s something else you need to know,” the king says.
Louis tenses. “What?”
“I started treatments. This week.”
Louis makes a sound. “You said you didn’t?—”
“I changed my mind.” The king’s eyes move between us. “You both reminded me that life is worth living, and I’m not done fighting. My team of doctors are convinced they’ll be able to get rid of the cancer,” he continues. “It will be intense, but I should recover. Everyone isoptimistic for the first time in months.” He grips Louis’s shoulder. “I’m not ready to die. I’ve found myself already missing what comes next for you two. Son, I want you to enjoy the best years of your life before you’re given the crown. I can help with that.”
Louis pulls his father into another embrace, and this one lasts much longer.
“The marriage arrangement is finished,” the king says when they finally step back. “All of it. Done. You’re free to be with whoever you want.”
“The council?—”
“I’m the king of Montclaire. I ultimately make the rules.” A ghost of humor crosses his face. “The council will accept my decision or tender their resignations. I don’t particularly care which.”
The door opens behind us, and we both turn.
The queen stands in the doorway. She’s immaculate in a cream silk blouse and navy trousers. Her dark hair is swept back from her face, and her posture is perfect. But when her gaze lands on Louis, her composure falters. Her mouth opens, then closes.
“Margaux.” The king’s voice softens. “Good morning, sweetheart.”
“I received your message.” She steps into the room and closes the door behind her, her movements careful and controlled. “I came as quickly as I could.”
She crosses the floor, her heels clicking against the hardwood, and stops a few feet from Louis. They face each other, and neither speaks. The queen’s hands are clasped in front of her, grip tight. She’s holding herself together with visible effort.
“I’m sorry.” The words come out stiff, like she’s not used to saying them. “I was trying to protect you. I thought I was doing what was best.”
“I could list every wrong you did, but I don’t need to. You know. It’d better never happen again.” Louis’s voice is quiet, but the anger beneath it runs deep.
The queen flinches. “It won’t. I understand how wrong I was. The council would not approve Addison, even if I tried. I felt like my hands were as tied as yours. With everything that was going on, it was dire that we move forward with the plan. But plans change.”
Louis doesn’t respond. The queen stands there, waiting, and I can tell she’s being sincere.
“I cannot undo what I did,” she continues. “I cannot take back what happened. But things will be different starting now. I see what Miss Cross means to you. I saw who you became when you were with her.” She swallows. “I see my son, happy in a way I thought this life had stolen from him.”
Louis’s shoulders drop by a fraction.
The queen turns to face me, and I keep my expression neutral. This is the woman who had me thrown out of the country. Who tried to erase me from her son’s life. Who treated me like I was an obstacle that needed to be removed.
“Addison …” She says my name carefully. “I owe you an apology as well.”
I wait, giving her space to speak. I didn’t expect this.
“I underestimated you. I thought you were another clout chaser, but at the ball, I saw the bond you two shared. Everyone did.” She takes a breath. “I used my power to hurt you, and I’m sorry.”
The apology hangs in the air between us. She means it. I can see it in her eyes, and I know how difficult it is to admit defeat. Part of me wants to see her grovel for what she’s done.
“Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate you saying that. I know it wasn’t easy.”
