“I don’t.” I was expected to, but I hadn’t even thought about it. I’d been too wrapped up in the Citizen Letters program, training, and Rhys.
I hesitated, debating, before I finally answered, “I would be happy to be your date. Thank you for asking.”
Rhys stiffened further next to me.
“Excellent.” Steffan cleared his throat. “Let’s hash the details out later, shall we? I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too.”
“You’d make a lovely couple.” There was something in Malin’s voice. A hint of warning, maybe? Or animosity mixed with sadness. I couldn’t pinpoint it, but whatever it was, it made Steffan flinch.
“Thank you.” It took all my training not to inject a question mark at the end. What was I supposed to say to something like that?
Another awkward silence fell before I finally excused myself and left Steffan and Malin standing in the hall, glaring at each other.
Rhys waited until we were in the elevator before he said, “They’re fucking.”
The thought had crossed my mind, but it didn’t make sense. “You don’t know that.”
“Trust me. I can tell when people are fucking, and they are.”
We stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. “If they are, why did she encourage him to ask me out?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re into group play.” Rhys didn’t look at me.
He was pissed. He didn’t say it, but I could feel it, and I didn’t have to guess what he was angry about.
“I had to say yes to the date,” I said after we got in the car. “Everyone expects me to bring someone to Nik’s wedding.”
Edvard and Elin had not forgotten about my husband search and kept bringing it up at every turn, but there wasn’t much they could do with Steffan gone. Now that he was back…
More complications. Less time with Rhys.
Frustration curled in my stomach.
“I see,” Rhys said in a neutral tone, but there was nothing neutral about the danger emanating from him like heat off sunbaked asphalt.
I hated that I couldn’t bring Rhys as my date and that we had to hide and sneak around, even though the only thing keeping us apart was a stupid accident of birth. It was the twenty-first century, but we might as well be living in the eighteenth.
The frustration sharpened and stabbed at my insides.
How did we go from our glorious, dreamy afternoon together to this so fast?
“You’re still expected to marry soon.” Rhys made a right turn, his hands so tight on the wheel his knuckles turned white.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
The past few weeks had been our version of a honeymoon, one in which we could be together without worrying about the thunderclouds in the distance. But the storm had arrived, and it was about to rain all over our parade.
I was the crown princess, and he was my bodyguard.
No matter how much it felt like forever, we would eventually have to part ways…unless I did something drastic.
Something no one had ever done before.
Like repeal the Royal Marriages Law.
32
Bridget
Problem: I couldn’t repeal the law on my own. I needed backup, and I had limited options. I didn’t want to tell Rhys until I had a more concrete plan, and I certainly couldn’t tell my family or any of the palace handlers. My friends in D.C. were too far away and removed from Eldorran politics to help.
There was only one person left I could trust.
“You want to what?” Mikaela’s mouth hung open as she stared at me like I’d sprouted a second head. “Bridget, the Royal Marriages Law is almost as old as the country itself. It’s impossible to overturn, especially with those fuddy-duddies in Parliament.”
“It’s not impossible, it’s improbable,” I corrected. “There’s a difference. And improbable things can become probable with the right strategy.”
“Okay. What’s the strategy?”
“I don’t know yet.”
She groaned. “Bridge, this is crazy. Why are you going to all the trouble to overturn the law? I thought everything was going well with Steffan. I mean, he was gone for a while, but he’s back and as delicious as ever. And he’s your date to Nikolai’s wedding.” She sipped her tea and set it on the table. “Am I missing something?”
I bit my lip. Should I spill the beans about Rhys? I trusted Mikaela, but I didn’t quite trust her reaction to the news, given what she’d said in my office about dating the staff.
“The law is archaic,” I said. “It’s not just for me. It’s for all the kings and queens after me. If it wasn’t for the law, Nikolai would still be crown prince and happily engaged to Sabrina.”
“Okay, but laws can’t be repealed unless the Speaker brings the motion to the floor and a three-fourths majority of Parliament votes in favor,” Mikaela pointed out. “When was the last time they repealed a law?”
Fifteen years ago, when they repealed a law prohibiting speed limits of higher than fifty-five miles per hour throughout the country.
The odds weren’t in my favor.
“I’ll figure it out.” Erhall would be difficult, but I would think of a way to persuade him. “Will you help?”
“You’re crazy. This is crazy.”
But for all her grumbling, Mikaela reluctantly agreed, and for the next week, I threw all my energy into creating a workable plan. I analyzed every repealed law in Eldorran history—there weren’t many—and studied the different ministers in Parliament, dividing them up based on how likely they were to pass the motion. I hadn’t figured out a strategy for Erhall yet, so I left him for last.
However, it wasn’t until my next check-in with Elin that something clicked. Something so simple I felt like an idiot for not thinking of it before.
“His Majesty is delighted you’re attending Prince Nikolai’s wedding with Steffan,” Elin said with an approving nod. “Coverage has been positive with the goodwill tour and wedding, but we want to keep the momentum going. Plus, we want to make sure everything is in place for when you eventually take the crown. Nothing says stability like a good marriage with a good, solid consort, and Lord knows we need some stability after the abdication.”
“I don’t see how marriage affects the ability to rule,” I said, stifling a yawn. I stayed up late last night doing research, and I was paying the price today.
“It affects public opinion, Your Highness,” Elin said in a tone that suggested I should know this already. “No one is immune to public opinion. Not even the royal family.”
I froze. “What did you just say?”
She raised a questioning brow. “No one is immune to public opinion, not even the royal family.”
A lightbulb went off in my head, and I almost jumped out of my chair in excitement. “Elin, you’re a genius,” I breathed. “An absolute genius. You deserve a raise immediately.”
“Excellent. Please tell His Majesty the next time you speak with him.” She checked her watch. “That’s all I have for today unless—”
“No.” I was already up and halfway to the door. “This was a lovely meeting. I’ll see you next week.”