Page 2 of Fit for a King

“Nicholas?” Gabriel placed a hand on my shoulder, and while the gesture was small, the impact was immediate. The emotions I’d held back for the entire day now threatened to finally break free.

“I just need a minute.” He went to remove his hand, but before he could, I reached up and held it in place, tightening my fingers around his. “I need you now more than ever.”

I wasn’t one to ask for much—anything, really—but in the days, weeks, and months to come I knew I was going to rely heavily on my brother. A task I hoped he was prepared for.

“I know,” he said from his station just behind me. The place he’d stood all his life.

“I need to know you’re ready for that.”

“Have I ever let you down before?”

I turned to look into a face that mirrored my own, the only difference being the fine lines around his eyes from a lifetime of smiling. I didn’t carry those markings.

“No. In fact, it’s my belief you would’ve been better off in this role than I can ever hope to be, but⁠—”

“I was more relaxed than you even during childbirth?” His lips quirked, another stark difference between us. My lips knew only one position: a stern line. “You always have been a rule follower. A stickler for arriving on time.”

Which was exactly why I felt the need to ask him to be on his best behavior now. I loved my brother, but as much as he was known for being charming, he was also known to be the rebellious one.

I supposed one could be when they weren’t expected to one day rule.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “You worry too much. This is the role you were meant for. The one you attended all those dreadfully boring studies for. Can’t let that be in vain, right?”

At that moment, I wished we were still kids who enjoyed switching places without anyone the wiser, because Gabriel would’ve fit this role with ease.

“Your Majesty, the motorcade is ready.”

I nodded once at my equerry’s words, still staring at my father’s final resting place. “Thank you, Graham.”

Gabriel stood beside me in silence, giving me one last moment to collect my thoughts, and then he dropped his hand from my shoulder.

“We should go.”

I nodded again, mindlessly, and felt him prod me in the side with his elbow.

“Fine. I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, but Mrs. Stuart made your favorite sticky toffee pudding with custard. But considering our cousins will probably beat us back to the palace, maybe don’t get your hopes up.”

Enticing me with sweet treats. Wouldn’t be the first time Gabriel had had to resort to desperate measures to get me where I needed to be.

With one final goodbye, I tore my eyes away and followed my brother to the waiting car.

Duty awaited, a lifetime of it. There was no room for anything else, so I swallowed down the last of my sadness and put on the armor they all wanted to see.

The face of the king.

2

NOAH

MONTCLAIR PALACE WAS an exquisite work of art, the most beautiful place I’d ever laid eyes on—and that was saying something, considering I was no stranger to nobility.

Not because I’d come from a line of kings or dukes, God no. I could almost laugh at the thought. No one would mistake me for a gentleman in my livery. I was in full black today, given the entire country was in mourning over the loss of the king, though the colors I wore usually matched with the house I was serving, and hopefully, that meant blue and ivory were in my future.

The timing for my arrival couldn’t have been worse, with the entire royal family still at the burial, but the palace had insisted my interview would go on as scheduled today. To an outsider, that might’ve seemed callous, but I understood how this world worked. It kept moving, no matter who was in charge, no matter what else was happening. People needed a constant, and in Valoria, that was the Valemonts.

I didn’t enter through the front door—I wasn’t a guest, after all—but went around the back, where all staff slipped inside without notice.

Immediately, it was different down here. So quiet and regal upstairs and on the grounds, but the hustle and bustle of the house all originated here. Maids hurried past with arms full of folded linen, footmen carried polished silver trays up the back stairs, and the sounds of the kitchen staff clanging pots and pans filtered down the hall.