“No true prince would ever behave in such a manner as you have,” she continues, “and no grandson of mine would ever threaten our family.”
His eyes flicker toward me. “Whatever Evangeline’s told you, it isn’t true—”
“I am not interested in your attempts to further manipulate me. I have been kept in the dark for far too long, but that ends today. Should you ever show your face in my presence again, I swear Iwillsee you punished to the fullest extent of the law for all you’ve done to my son.”
Ben’s jaw tightens, and he grips the edge of his desk like it’s the only thing keeping him from exploding. “You’re choosing a mongrel over me? I’m your grandson. I’ve done nothing but put this family first again and again—”
“Lie to me one more time, and I will also have Alexander cut your allowance to nothing,” she says coldly. And with a single glance back at me, she adds, “At least this mongrel has integrity and courage. Unless one is careful, even the purest of lineagescan be bred into monstrosities. The only kind thing to do then is to drown the pups before they spoil the bloodline any further.”
Before I can process just how nasty this insult is, Ben spits at her feet—only to be strong-armed to the other side of the room by his minder.
“You’ll regret this!” he shouts as Constance turns on her heel and strides back down the hallway. “That bitch will burn the entire monarchy to the ground—she’ll destroy everything—everything—”
I follow her, numb with disbelief, and only when the echoes of Ben’s tirade finally fade does Constance stop in front of a window, her eyes shining with tears. I want to cry, too, but for an entirely different reason, and I scoop Poppy up and bury my nose in her fur.
Nicholas believes me. Helene believes me. Somehow, impossibly, Constance believes me, too. Maisie doesn’t, but does it really matter when Ben isn’t allowed on royal property anymore? Alexander and my mother will finally be safe, or as safe as they’ll ever be. It isn’t over—it’ll never be over, not while Ben is alive and still has a chance at the crown—but for now I can finally breathe.
“She likes you,” says Constance, her voice tight with emotion. I pull my face from the puppy’s fur and frown.
“I guess so,” I say. “I’m sorry. I keep trying to shoo her away, but she won’t leave. She’s a good girl, though.”
Constance nods brusquely, once again staring out the window. “She’s the wrong color for breeding. It happens sometimes, despite how careful we are. Her lineage is strong, but she’s no good to us here. You can have her, if you’d like.”
I stare at her, the silence between us crackling like static.
Constance is offering me a puppy.
I’ve never had a pet before, but I know a peace offering when I see it. Not just a peace offering, but an apology—one that, to Constance, must be the equivalent of eighteen years of remorse. And so, even though I don’t have the faintest clue how to care for a puppy that can’t be more than a few months old, I nod.
“Thank you,” I say, and I hug Poppy a little closer as she licks my cheek. “I’ll take excellent care of her, I promise.”
“Obviously,” says Constance, and she turns away to dab her eyes. “I’ll make sure the staff at each royal residence knows how to meet her daily requirements. Her diet is tailored to her breed, and she’ll need extensive training—”
“You’re giving Evan adog?” Maisie appears from a nearby room, her cheeks pink and her blue eyes wide. “I’ve been begging you for a puppy foryears—”
“The dog chose her,” says Constance. “There’s nothing I can do. Besides, when you ask for a puppy, it’s always the pick of the litter. This one’s barely more than a mutt. Now,” she adds, taking a shaky breath and focusing her full attention on Maisie. “I expect you knew as well, did you? About what your weasel of a cousin was up to all this time.”
“Of course,” she says, undeterred by the change in subject. “Who do you think told the PPOs to put someone on him?”
I blink. “That was you?”
She rolls her eyes. “Youcertainly don’t have the power. As soon as I saw the article about Kit and Liam, I made the call.”
Constance straightens, and somehow the shine of tears in her eyes has disappeared. “We won’t have to worry about Benedict’santics any longer. I’ve made it clear he isn’t welcome here—at Balmoral or on any other royal property.”
“Good,” says Maisie, raising her chin. “It’s about time Mummy and Uncle Nicholas looped you in. I’ve been pressing them to for ages—”
“Wait,” I say, my mind still reeling. “Maisie—the things you said about Ben yesterday—defending him and—”
“Really, Evangeline,” she says with a mixture of haughtiness and hostility. “For an internationally renowned spy who’s single-handedly taken down the biggest domestic terrorism threat in the United Kingdom, you’re awful at recognizing the signs of when someone is listening at the door.”
Ben. Of course he came back to eavesdrop. “So everything you said—you didn’t mean it?” I say, confused as I yet again mentally run through our argument the night before. About Ben, about Kit, about all of it.
“Oh, I certainly meant some of it,” says Maisie with a single raised eyebrow. “Grandmama, why don’t I escort you back to the dining room? Mummy and Uncle Nicholas are waiting, and I’m sure you have questions.”
“Several,” she says, taking Maisie’s offered arm and glancing at me once more. “Do try not to disgrace the family during your interview tonight, Evangeline. We’ll all be watching.”
Chapter Fifteen
