“Exactly.”
“So, ask for it.”
I blink at her slowly. “What?”
“Ask. For. It.” She pushes to her feet and looks at me like I’m the stupidest person she’s ever met — an expression that instantly reminds me of her brother. “You’re the fucking princess. You’ve been elevated to a position most of us can only ever dream of possessing, just because Linus happened to blow a load in your mom a few decades back.”
I wince. “Was that visual necessary?”
“Probably not.” She stubs her blunt out in the flower arrangement sitting on my dressing table and props one hip against it. “Right now, with Henry hanging by a thread and the whole damn country in turmoil… they need you a hell of a lot more than you need them. That’s calledleverage, E. That’s calledpower.Stop whining and use it.”
I look at her, reeling as her words rattle around inside my head.
She’s kind of a genius.
“I thought my fairy godmother was supposed to have wings and a wand,” I say finally, smiling despite myself. “Instead I get a foul-mouthed stoner in designer heels?”
“Yeah, well, I thought when my mom became queen I’d finally get a proper royal title,” she volleys back, spritzing herself with a bottle of the perfume on the vanity to cover the skunky smell of pot. “Instead I’m handed an evil stepsister with perky tits and purple hair.”
I laugh. “Haven’t you heard? Life isn’t fair.”
Fluffing her long auburn hair, she crosses to the door and yanks it open. “Screwfair,” she tells me, her brows arching sardonically. “Life is a chess game, E. Welcome to the board. I suggest you choose your moves carefully.”
With one last wink, she slips out into the hall. I barely have time to yell a belatedthank youbefore the door clicks closed behind her. And for the first time in twenty-four hours, a smile spreads across my face as I realize that the life I want is still well within my grasp. I just have to be brave enough to reach out and take it back.
That’s called leverage, E.
Time to see if my fairy godmother was right.
* * *
An hour later,all signs of my smile are long gone. I glare at the portly man blocking my path into the private study, his double chin quivering with righteous indignation as he peers down his nose at me.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, that’s simply not possible.”
“I haven’t been coronated yet, Simms. Stop calling meYour Highness,” I snap. “And get out of my way.”
“King Linus is currently occupied. Official crown business.”
“Yeah. You said that.” I tilt my head at him. “Thing is, I still need to see him. Urgently.”
“He is a very busy man, Your High—” He hiccups when he sees my lethal glare, and wisely changes course. “—Miss Emilia.”
“Too busy to speak to his only daughter?” I ask, desperate enough to play any card in my deck, if it means getting what I want.
Simms shifts uncomfortably, but does not yield. “Unfortunately, I cannot make any exceptions.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I try to evaluate him like he’s one of the patients at the clinic; try to assess him as one of my professors would, during a practical lesson.
Snappy dresser, suggesting a dramatic streak… Unfailingly loyal to the Lancasters, almost as a point of pride… Aspirations of a long career connected to the royal family…
Between his perfectionist tendencies and the near pathological degree of self-importance, there’s only one potential chink in his armor I can see: it’s not in his nature to burn a bridge with someone who might help further his position, sometime down the line.
Someone like me.
I just have to remind him of that fact.
“You mean to tell me, the king is too busy to speak to thesole heir of Germania?”