“You have to understand — I thought you were dead! I thought I’d killed you.”
“So you set the fire to cover your tracks,” Henry confirms with bitter resignation. “Hoping my body would burn up — along with the evidence of your crimes.” He pauses, his voice going dangerously low. “I suppose you didn’t realized you would kill my parents and a slew of palace servants in the process. Or maybe you didn’t care. What’s a few lives lost, if you get to live out the rest of your days scot-free?”
Snot is pouring from Alden’s nose, now. He keeps shaking his head, but he says nothing in his own defense.
What could he possibly say?
“How disappointed you must’ve been to learn I was still alive.” Henry crouches down before Alden. “And how very frightened that I’d wake to remember your crimes.”
“I’m sorry. You must believe me when I tell you how sorry I am, Henry…”
“I don’t believe you, though. You aren’t sorry for what you’ve done; you’re merely sorry you got caught.”
“That’s not true…”
“Isn’t it, though? Had I not come back to confront you today, you would’ve married my cousin and claimed your spot as the king of this country. A murderer on the throne.” Henry makes a disgusted sound, rising to his feet and turning his back on the sniveling man beneath the table. “I can’t even look at you. Guards! Please take Lord Sterling into custody. His presence is no longer required. In fact, I do not foresee being in his presence again until he faces trial for mass murder.”
Riggs and Vega swoop in instantly, hauling Alden out from beneath the table. He doesn’t fight them — he doesn’t even struggle. He hangs limply in their grip, utterly defeated.
When they drag him across the altar, his eyes meet mine for a brief moment. I used to think their hazel depths were full of purity and kindness. Now, I see that his abundant sincerity was merely a mask, concealing truths too dark to process.
“Emilia…” he whispers, his expression pleading. “Help me. Please…”
Jerking my head to break eye contact, I flinch backward — straight into Carter’s chest. His warm arms close around my waist, hauling me close, and I absorb his strength.
The thought that I came so close to marrying a monster… that I nearly allowed my country to fall into the grip of someone so terrible…
It’s too much to digest all at once. I will need time — lots and lots of time — to unpack all my feelings about Alden Sterling.
My almost-husband.
“I can’t believe this,” Chloe murmurs, echoing my thoughts. She sits down on the front pew with a thunk, looking shellshocked. “Alden. Our Alden…” Her head shakes. “You two were best friends, Henry. Why would he do something like this to you?”
Henry walks over and sits beside Chloe, wrapping an arm around her back. “I’ve been in love with a Sterling for as long as I can remember.” He pauses artfully. “However… not the Sterling you’d likely expect.”
My brows go up. “You mean…”
“Ava and I were engaged. But behind closed doors… Alden and I were together.” Henry holds my stare levelly. There is no shame in his voice. No embarrassment. “We loved each other for years in secret. Of course, we could never be a couple. Not openly. There are no gay kings on the Germanian throne. Certainly not when there are no other heirs to abdicate to.”
“I had no idea,” Chloe says, blinking rapidly. “And that’s saying something. I have excellent gay-dar.”
Henry chuckles and elbows her. “We were careful. No one knew, with one exception.”
“Ava,” I murmur.
Henry nods. “Yes. She knew. How could she not? It was the perfect arrangement. Or, if not perfect, the best possible scenario for the cards we’d been dealt. Everyone got what they wanted, in a way. Ava got to be the queen, as she’d always wanted to be. I got to be with the love of my life without letting down my country.”
“And Alden got you,” Chloe surmises.
Henry’s lips twist. “That’s where things got tricky. At first, he seemed as happy with the scenario as Ava and I were. But as time went on… he grew tired of being kept in the closet, so to speak. He wanted a normal relationship with me — dates, marriage, children. Things I would never be able to give him. And, more than that, he wanted to reign by my side. The ultimate power couple. Two kings.” Henry runs another hand through his hair. “Of course, that was never an option. That night — the night of the fire — I told him it was over. That being together was turning him into someone I didn’t recognize. Someone power-hungry and jealous and, frankly, a bit too much like his sister.”
“I assume, by the crack in your skull, he took the news well?” Chloe asks dryly.
Henry snorts. “The last thing I remember is him screaming at me that I couldn’t walk away from him. That we were destined to be together. To rule together. That if I wanted to be a king without him… I wouldn’t be king at all. And then… I woke up in the hospital looking like Frankenstein. Eight months had passed, my parents were dead, and my kingdom was being run by a purple-haired munchkin with a penchant for ruffling royal feathers.”
Carter chuckles lowly at my back. Flushing beet-red, I elbow him in the side.
“I’m sorry, Henry. I mean Prince Henry. Uh… Crown Prince Henry? Or is it technically… King Henry?” I wince. “Sorry again. For messing up your kingdom. And your title.”