Before I know what’s happening, I shove Ben up against the threshold, my elbow digging into his throat. His pulse flutters against my skin, but he doesn’t even try to fight me off, and the entire room—even his minder—is completely still.
“Don’t you dare say my father’s name,” I growl, bared teeth and all. “After what you did, you havenoright—”
“If you’re implying that I had anything to do with what happened to Uncle Alexander, then you’re utterly mad,” says Ben with a sneer. “I’ve done nothing but support his recovery—”
“You haven’t been allowed anywhere near him.” I press my trembling elbow harder into his throat, and he makes a choking sound. “Just in case you try to finish the job.”
“I didn’t—do—anything,” insists Ben. In a burst of ferocity, or maybe panic, he finally shoves me away, and I stumble back toward the table. “I would never—”
“Of course not,” I snarl as something wild overtakes me.“You never do your dirty work yourself, do you? That’s what the ABR was for.”
He slams his fist into the wall, leaving blood smears behind. “Irefuseto stand here and listen to this character assassination,” he howls, straightening to his full height. “Father. Grandmama. Aunt Helene. Maisie. If you’re all willing to entertain this madness, then by all means. But I will not waste my time defending myself against these ridiculous claims.”
Ben stalks away, and satisfaction rushes through me as he vanishes from sight. Good. Let him disappear. With any luck, after the interview tonight, the only time I’ll ever have to see him again will be in a courtroom when I give testimony against him.
But once he’s gone, the silence in the dining room is resounding. “Well,” says Maisie at last, and she rises, taking her phone and another piece of toast with her. “Now you’ve done it, Evangeline.”
She, too, strides out of the room, and something cracks inside me—my heart, maybe, or any sense of hope I still had that my sister hasn’t been fooled by a murderer. Fighting back tears, I lean against the dented wall and rub my eyes, wishing more than ever that Kit was still here.
“That,” says Constance in a deadly voice, “was the most inappropriate display of—of sheerlunacyI have ever witnessed. I amappalledby both your actions and your words, Evangeline, and I will not suffer having the likes of you in my presence—”
“She’s telling the truth, Mother,” says Nicholas with a long-suffering sigh. “Ben is a devious little shit, and frankly he’s lucky she didn’t try to break his nose. He certainly deserves that and more.”
“Nicholas!” exclaims Constance. “Benedict is yourson—”
“He knew about the bombing,” I say as Nicholas takes another bite of egg. “I don’t know if he’s been funding the ABR or feeding them information or both, but he knew exactly what was going to happen that day.”
“Don’t you dare speak of my grandson in such a way,” says Constance. “He is a prince—”
“He’s a terrorist.”
“He has no reason to harm a fly,” she retorts. “He lives a life of luxury—”
“As third in line to the throne,” I say. “And until I arrived, he was practically guaranteed to get the crown someday. But Ben knew Alexander was still in love with my mom, and he also realized that if my parents ever get married and I decide to have kids, they’ll be next in line, not him. Seemed highly unlikely a year ago, but when I suddenly showed up, he panicked.”
Constance stares at me like I’m speaking in ancient verse, and before I can stop myself, the entire story spills out of me in a painful rush. I tell her every terrible thing that Ben has done since I arrived in England. How he helped Jasper drug me and then tried to pin Jasper’s death on me. How he told Dylan exactly where Kit and I would be the morning we were shot at Sandringham. How Ben bugged my rooms and made me think I was having auditory hallucinations.
I tell her how he was behind the fire at Windsor Castle, and how he specifically targeted my mother in order to burn her alive. Without naming our source, I tell her how Maisie, Kit, and I managed to confirm both Ben’s motives and his methodsthrough someone he was blackmailing, and how we’re sure there are other victims. I tell her about his connections to the ABR and Guy Fawkes, and how even MI5 is investigating him. I show her pictures, video, the threatening texts he’s sent, evidence I’ve collected—I give her everything I have in under ten whirlwind minutes, barely stopping for breath.
“And theRegal Record,” I say at last, lightheaded and knowing I’m treading on dangerous ground, but I have to make her understand. I have to make all of them understand. “We know that’s Ben, too, from the same source he’s blackmailing.”
“That’s him?” says Nicholas, his frown twisting with disgust. “He wrote the article about Liam?”
I nod. “Tibby thinks theRegal Record—Ben—is trying to discredit Kit before the interview and make sure no one trustshim.”
Helene shakes her head slowly in disbelief. “And he used Liam’s death, of all things, to do it. As if Edgar’s family hasn’t been through enough.”
Constance, who’s been completely silent this entire time, walks wordlessly toward the door. “Constance?” I say, but she turns down the hallway without explanation. I follow as the puppy trots at my heels, her tail wagging. “Constance, you can’t tell anyone else—it’s still an open investigation—”
I fall silent as we pass a footman, but Constance quickens her strides. I can’t let her walk away with all the information I’ve given her, not when I have no idea what she plans to do with it, and so I stay with her, my heart thudding against my ribs.
At last we emerge into a familiar wing of the castle—the guestapartments. Ben’s personal minder stands guard in front of a nearby door, and he steps aside as Constance reaches for the knob and throws it open, revealing a dimly lit guest suite.
“Grandmama?” says Ben from behind an antique writing desk, and he slams his laptop shut, jumping to his feet. “What are you—”
“From this moment on,” she says, her voice full of steel, “you are no longer welcome on my property, or on any royal property where I have a say in the matter.”
Ben blinks, and we both look at her at the same time.“What?”he gasps, echoing my shock.
