I hang my head. “No, I haven’t.”
Pauline speaks up, voice sharp. “He told us more than once—both of us, and Julian—that he’d filed his will, along with the paperwork to opt out of the entail.”
I nod, recalling one of those occasions. “The Reigning Prince Richard was present during one such conversation. You can ask him!”
Brigitte chimes in. “I was there, too. Prince Richard said he had no objections to ending the archaic entail. That he would sign off on it as soon as it reached his desk.”
“I don’t doubt your words, Your Grace.” Duret’s expression pinches. “But I’m afraid no such document was ever filed with the Office of Inheritance or the Royal Records Division. There is no original or signed copy.”
“That means…?” I stare at him, not daring to voice the implication.
“In the absence of a notarized amendment to the entail, it remains in force,” Duret replies.
Oh, God.
“It cannot be,” I press, refusing to believe it. “Geoffroy named Millie as the next in line after Julian. He said he’d make sure Rohinn would go to his darling girl, rather than to?—”
I bite my tongue before I can blurt “that useless little prick, Alex.” Which is what Geoffroy usually called his half brother.
“No need to censor yourself, Eva,” Alex says.
This is the first time he’s spoken since the shocking announcement. All eyes turn to him.
“I’m quite aware of the endearments Geoffroy had for me,” he adds. “He never hesitated to repeat them to my face.”
Duret looks at Brigitte, his voice a whisper. “I’m sorry, my lady.” Then at me, “And Your Grace.” And, finally, at Millie, “And you, Lady Millicent.”
She stares at him, wide-eyed and uncomprehending.
“Without a will,” he explains to her, “and with the entail still in place… the inheritance and the title default to the male next of kin, Monsieur Alexandre Castellane, the new Duke of Rohinn.”
“You mean, everything?” Brigitte chokes out.
Duret drops his head to his chest. “Yes, everything.”
Silence again, this time colder.
Brigitte won’t look at me. Millie straightens her back, as if to prove she won’t break down. Her father’s negligence stripped her of her birthright and left her with nothing, even though her treatment costs half a million a year. Still, she refuses to let it show.
Oh, my sweet darling! How could he do this to you?
Pauline shuts her notepad. “This is legally outrageous. You’re telling me that a man in his sixties, who oversaw hundreds of contracts every year, failed to plan his own estate?”
“I agree it’s irregular,” Duret says. “But it is the legal state of affairs.”
He gives me an apologetic look, before glancing sideways, at Alex. I follow his gaze. Alex doesn’t move. He sits like marble, eyes steady on the notary. Not surprised. Not smug. Just… resigned.
I turn fully toward him. “That’s why you’re here.”
“I received a summons, just like you did.” He meets my stare. “And, like you, I was convinced Geoffroy had done away with the entail.”
Derek lifts a brow. “My client was under the impression a will would be read. It is preposterous to blame him for the lack of one.”
“No one’s blaming anyone, Derek,” Pauline says, rattled enough to skip the customary Maître Albrighi.
I snap my attention back to Alex. “So what? You’re going to just… take everything? The estate? The title? The duchy?”
Before he can reply, Derek jumps in, “By law, it reverts to the male next of kin, namely, your husband’s brother. My client.”
