Naomi pushes herself onto her elbow, propping her head up with her hand. “Do you want the good news or the bad?”
“Good, I guess?”
“You won’t have to tell your parents about the wedding.”
My stomach drops. “Why not?”
She winces. “The bad news is pretty bad,” she says gently.
“Bloody hell!” A shout, followed by a long string of swear words, travels through the walls from Theo’s room into ours. Fear prickles along my neck.
“Tell me.”
Naomi hands over her phone. “I’m sorry, Wren.”
Her phone is open to a gossip tabloid. I scroll through the headlines as my chest caves in.
Secret Wedding Disaster! Leaked Marriage Certificate Shocks Britain
King Theo Duped into Marrying Desperate American
Royal Crisis: American Wren Wheeler Reaches for the Throne!
CHAPTER8
“Is it possible I love-bombed Theo?”
I’ve spent the past two hours talking Mom and Dad off a ledge and reading wild conspiracy theories and fanfiction about my life, and I’m starting to spiral. My head is hanging upside down off the foot of the bed, and I feel like I might pass out.
“Stop reading the comments.” Naomi nudges me with her foot. I slide off the bed and hit my head on the ground.
I’m too stressed to move. “Do you think I gaslit him?”
“Ugh, people will go out of their way to blame the girl every time,” Brooke says.
There’s a sharp knock on the door. Brooke answers it. A man in a suit looks past her to where I’m still lying in a pathetic heap on the floor. “We need you. Now.”
Dread slithers up my spine.My first royal summons.
I’m led into one of Theo’s sitting rooms and seated at a large oak table across from half a dozen people, with Theo directly across from me, and Henry next to him. (Wearing a shirt this time.) Naomi’s surprised expression makes it clear that wewillbe discussing Henry after this meeting is over.
We’re introduced to the royal communications secretary, a bald man named Richard Graves, as well as Theo’s private secretary, a tour secretary, and a communications officer. Winston and another guard are standing at the back of the room, and on a laptop screen set up on the table is yet another stone-faced representative of the Firm.
When Theo talked about “the Firm” and their power over his life, I’d assumed most of that control stemmed from his mother and her wishes, and that once Theo was in charge, he could forge a different path.
Now that I’m sitting across from an entourage of people determined to tell me when and how I’m allowed to leave this hotel (or not), I’m realizing my thought process was painfully naive.
“I don’t want to be queen!” I blurt immediately. Everyone over the age of thirty smirks. Theo’s expression remains carefully blank, while Henry looks intently back and forth between his brother and me.
“Your wishes are irrelevant, because it will never happen,” says Graves. “When the King is officially crowned in less than two weeks, this whole mess with your marriage certificate will be forgotten.”
“How did the press get ahold of it?” I ask, my accusatory gaze settling on Theo’s security guard.
“We’re looking into it,” Theo says. “A picture of the certificate was sent via phone, and we now suspect our phones have been hacked.”
“Is your phone safe, Birdie?” Mom asks. On the American side of the table: me, my stunned parents on a video call, Brooke, Naomi, and Comet snoozing at my feet. There was some dispute about whether they should be present for this (i.e., no one wantsthem here) but Brooke insisted that ifHis Majesty’speople get to be present, mine should too. I know she’s not over the surprise wedding reveal, but I’m thankful she has my back, because the vibes in this room are not exactly welcoming.
As in, everyone here fucking hates me.
