“Dinner will be ready soon,” Vince continued. “How about I ask them to bring it up here. We can talk while we eat and then you can get a good night’s rest before tomorrow?”
“That sounds great,” I said, relieved I wouldn’t need to move from where I was any time soon.
Twenty minutes later, a gangly young man in a chef coat, whom Vince introduced as Thomas, set plates of succulent roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and rich au jus in front of each of us. I sighed happily, only just realizing how hungry I really was.
Vince had spent the time while we waited debriefing me on the press that was expected to cover each event, as well as how to best answer questions directed at me. His greatest word of caution, however, was reserved for the tabloids.
“Our tabloids are not anywhere as vicious as those in the UK,” he explained, “but I do not doubt that the paparazzi will be on the hunt for anything they think can fetch them a good price related to this contest. Be yourself, always smile, but do not be afraid to answer their questions with, ‘No comment.’”
No comment. Smile. Don’t shake hands. Your Majesty.
Now, as we dug into our dinner, Vince looked up at me. “Before we finish up, is there anything else you would like to know?”
“Actually, yes,” I said, setting my fork down and wiping my mouth with my napkin. “What the hell is the deal with this marriage rule? And if the king is still alive, why is Prince Oliver about to be crowned? I thought that didn’t happen until the king died? And how much power does the royal family really have?”
“Ah, wonderful questions.” Vince settled back in his chair. “You are no doubt familiar with the British royal family, and while we share some similarities with them, a number of our laws and customs differ quite a bit.
“I’ll answer your last question first: We are a constitutional monarchy. Most of the governmental power is held by the Council of Lords, which at one point did consist solely of titled nobility, though the seats are now elected positions. The monarch is primarily a symbolic role, although do not be mistaken—they hold quite a bit of sway over the Council’s decisions.”
“Is it only men who can rule?”
“No, the line of succession goes in birth order, regardless of sex. Although it has been many generations since the royal family has had a first-born daughter.
“The answers to your other questions stem from the same place. King Leroy’s grandfather—Oliver’s great-grandfather—King Alfred II, inherited the throne from his uncle, who had never married and ruled for almost sixty years. By the time he passed away, he was extremely out of touch with where the country was, and without a partner by his side to help him rule, he didn’t have anyone to balance him out. He nearly led Wexstone to ruin. So, when King Alfred took the throne, he established two laws in an attempt to prevent that from happening again. The first was that each sovereign can only rule for thirty years, or until their death—whichever comes first. The second was that the ruler must be married; King Alfred believed that a ruling partnership would keep balance on the throne, while only allowing a sovereign to rule for a maximum of thirty years would prevent them from becoming out of touch with younger generations and new technologies.
“This year marks King Leroy’s thirtieth year on the throne. I believe Oliver already told you about Xavier’s abdication,which means that Oliver will be crowned just after the new year.”
I blinked. What I had assumed was a rule rooted in patriarchal ideals had been established to provide stability to a country on the brink of ruin. While I wasn’t convinced that it was the right answer, it was a reminder to me not to judge a book too harshly by its cover.
“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” Vince inquired as he returned his attention to his plate.
For a split second I considered asking for more information about Knox and his place within the family but thought better of it. I was here to court Prince Oliver, after all. Knox was…well, I wasn’t sure what he was, but he wasn’t supposed to be my priority. Instead, I simply shook my head.
We finished our meal, and Vince placed our empty plates on a tray. “All right. I think that’s enough for today. I’m going to take this back down to the kitchen. You get some sleep; we’ll hit the ground running again tomorrow.”
I stood and walked him to the door.
“Hey, Vince?” He turned to me, brows raised. “Thanks for everything. I hope I don’t let you down.”
“Birdie, I have a feeling you could never let me down.”
I closed the door, grateful for the reassurance. I grabbed a pair of pajamas from my suitcase, washed my face, and a few minutes later was sound asleep under the fluffy white duvet.
There was a knock on the door. I flipped over to look at the alarm clock on my nightstand to see what time it was and why someone was knocking at my apartment. When I opened my eyes, I didn’t recognize anything. I shot straight up, heart racing, and looked to my right as a short, stout woman walked through the white double doors.
Oh, right. I’m in Wexstone. I flew here yesterday.I took a deep breath as my heart rate slowed.
“Good morning, Ms. Hamilton,” the woman greeted as she pulled back the floor-to-ceiling drapes that ran the length of the room.
“Good morning,” I greeted as I rubbed sleep out of my eyes, still trying to get my bearings.
“Breakfast will be served downstairs in the dining room in an hour. Would you like me to have any tea sent up while we get you ready?”
“Um, we?” I questioned.
“Yes, miss. I’m Sonya, your maid, and I can start the shower or run you a bath if you’d like. Or if you'd rather wait, I can go ahead and lay out the clothes you’ll wear for breakfast. Whatever your morning routine is, let me know and I can help get you started.”
My maid?Many of my friends growing up had cleaning ladies that came to their house once a week, something my own family could never afford. And now the idea of having my own personal attendant made my head spin.It’s too early for this. I need coffee.
