“You can’t possibly mean…” My brows lift. “You think Octavia started the fire last fall? Intentionally? To kill get Leopold, Abigail, and Henry out of the way?”
“Who else had the motive?” Chloe mutters darkly. “Octavia was the one to benefit most from that fire. With the royals out of the way, she knew her husband was next in line for the throne. And what has she wanted, more than anything else?”
“To be queen.”
“Exactly. To be queen.” She expels a sharp breath. “I don’t relish the thought that my mother is a mass murderer but… facts are facts.”
“There will be a trial,” I murmur. “I suppose the truth will come out then.”
We fall silent again, both trying to digest the enormous implications of this information.
Octavia.
It’s no secret she has never been my favorite person. She is malicious and calculated and plainly awful. And yet… I never in a million years would’ve thought her capable of something like this. The magnitude of her atrocities far outweighs any possibility I considered in the past.
“What did Carter say about it?”
Chloe glances over at me. “Eavesdropping, were you?”
I shrug. There’s no point lying.
She sighs. “He was typical Carter. Man of few words, you know him.”
“I do.” My heart pangs painfully.
“He wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels over the news, but he wasn’t totally flabbergasted by it, either. We’ve seen Octavia’s true colors since we were kids. She wasn’t mother-of-the-year.”
“Fair enough.”
“He told me, if there’s a public trial, he doesn’t want anything to do with it. He doesn’t want to come back. To see her. To testify on her behalf.” Chloe shakes her head. “Neither do I, to be honest.”
“I doubt you will need to. She’s already confessed most of it. I’m guessing she’ll throw Ramsey Bane and any other coconspirators under the bus the minute Riggs leans on her for more information. We know she’ll do just about anything to save herself from spending the rest of her life in federal prison.”
“When will it happen? The trial?”
“Soon, I think. According to Simms,justice must be served with speed in order for the country to move on.” I snort. “And there’s a royal wedding to focus on, of course! Can’t have a pesky thing like treason interfering with my nuptials!”
Chloe lays her head on my shoulder. “You’ve had a hell of a week.”
“Hell of a year, actually.”
“God, I could really go for a Xanax right now,” Chloe murmurs.
I look over at her, alarmed.
“Don’t worry — I’m not going to take anything. I’ll call Dr. Hess over, have an emergency session. Talk out my feelings and all that shit.” She blows out a sharp breath. “But damn, I’d be lying if I told you the craving wasn’t there. It’s like a conditioned response. For a long time, when bad shit happened… especially bad shit stirred up by my mother… Drugs were my coping mechanism.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Just sit with me. I’ll be okay.” She smiles softly. “I finally feel stronger than my addiction. It’s a nice change.”
“I’m proud of you, Chloe.”
She closes her eyes, still smiling. “Truth be told? I’m pretty fucking proud of me, too.”
* * *
In mid May,Lady Octavia Thorne — former Duchess of Hightower, Dowager Queen Consort of Germania — adds several more monikers to her long list of titles.