“Beloved, why didn’t you call me the instant you awoke? I have been at your bedside night and day—”
Now Henry is the one snorting. He crouches down and clasps Ava’s hand… but only to peel it from his pant leg.
“That’s interesting, Ava, since I have been out of my coma recovering for several weeks now. My doctors were quite forthcoming with my visitor’s log. It seems you did not visit menight and day, as you claim. In fact, you did not visit me at all. Not once, in nearly a year’s time.” He rises back to full height, peering down at her as one might a dog who’s just shit on their shoe. “Could you explainthatto me, my darling?”
“I was too emotional to visit, but in my heart—”
“Oh, save it, Ava.” Chloe steps into the fray, hands planted on her hips. She meets Henry’s eyes. “Speaking as someone who actuallydidvisit you regularly, I can attest that your hag of a fiancée never once set foot in your waiting room.” She pauses, a smile twitching her lips up at one corner. “Good to see you up and around, H. Though I could kill you for not calling me when you woke up.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Have you really been conscious for weeks?” I ask, unable to remain silent. Now that my shock has worn off, questions are hammering at me relentlessly. “I’ve been getting status reports on your condition from your doctors…”
Henry grimaces. “I apologize for the deception. When I first awoke, I was rather confused about what had happened to me. I commanded they remain silent until I’d regained my memories of that night.” He pauses, expression growing somber. “Of the fire that claimed my parents’ lives.”
“So you remember what happened?” I ask, eyes widening. “You remember who started the fire?”
Henry nods slowly. I notice he’s staring at Alden, who’s still collapsed in a heap on the floor, looking like he’s seen a ghost.
“Oh, I remember,” Henry murmurs. “I remember every detail of that night.”
Alden wheezes out a sound — not quite a groan, not quite a grunt. I suppose he’s in shock at the sudden return of his best friend. I know how close they were, before the fire.
Ava is still fake-sobbing, sprawled across the steps at our feet. “Henry…” She sniffles pathetically. “Oh,Henry…”
“Do shut up,” Chloe hisses at her.
“Galizia,” I call, gesturing down at Ava. “Would you mind…”
My guard smirks as she approaches. “It would be my pleasure, My Queen.”
“I’m not the queen,” I whisper lowly, almost to myself. “Not anymore.”
Henry hears me, though. He glances over, his gaze lingering on the crown atop my head.
His crown.
He is the rightful heir.
The true king.
Which makes me…
No one.
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I reach up and attempt to remove it. Unfortunately, the industrial hairspray and thousand-odd pins holding it in place make that task impossible.
“Sorry,” I say dumbly. I feel like the ultimate imposter in the face of actual royalty. “This crown… it’s yours.”
“Is it?” Henry’s brows arch sardonically. “I think it looks rather good on you.”
My mouth gapes again. “But—”
“No!No! I won’t go!” Ava is wailing like a banshee as she’s dragged down the aisle, her claws no match for Galizia’s iron grip. “Henry! Henry, please! My love! Allow me to explain!”
But Henry appears fresh out of patience for his former beloved. He’s already turning back to Chloe. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’d recovered. At first, I could barely find the strength to roll over in bed. It took weeks to regain my ability to do even the most basic things — to walk, to feed myself, to get dressed without assistance.”
“I could’ve been there to help you, Henry.” Her eyes flicker to mine. “We all could’ve. The thought of you going through that alone…”