“I love you,” I whisper after a while.
“I love you too,” he tells me gruffly. “Whether you’re a queen or a commoner. You are myalways.”
* * *
The Great Hallis full to capacity.
I’ve never seen so many bodies crammed inside, even during my coronation ball.
Henry and I stand side by side on the raised platform, gazing out over the crowd together. Just behind us, my royal advisors form a line of solidarity — Chloe, Simms, Lady Morrell, Riggs, and Galizia. If I glance to my left, just out of sight, I can spot Carter leaning against a marble column, surveying the crowd with a bemused look. As if he feels my eyes on him, he glances up at me and winks.
“Ready?” Henry asks from beside me.
I turn and find my cousin watching me with curious eyes. I know he’s aware of my not-so-secret relationship — Carter told me last night, after we made love. But if Henry bears any resentment toward me that my torrid affair worked out whilehiscrashed and — quite literally — burned, he shows no sign of it.
Much as it pains me to admit it, Henry will probably be a better ruler than I ever was. He is, from all accounts, a level-headed and kind man. Not only that, he was trained from infancy to accept this role. His knowledge of foreign policy outmatches mine by miles.
Germania is in far safer hands with him at the helm.
“Ready,” I confirm, nodding at him. The crown on my head bobbles a bit when I do — I made sure not to use any pins to secure it.
Soon, I’ll be passing it off.
Henry smirks at bit at the sight of my wobbling crown. Turning to face the crowd, he taps the microphone to call the room to order. The press fall silent instantly.
“I’m sure you have many questions for me regarding Alden Sterling’s arrest yesterday, as well as my sudden reappearance in your lives. I ask for you to let me speak my piece before we entertain your curiosity. We have much information to cover and, presuming you don’t want to have a mass slumber party here at the castle, a limited time in which to do so.”
A laugh titters through the crowd.
“As many of you know, my name is Henry Lancaster. Son of Leopold and Abigail Lancaster, the late King and Queen of Germania. Last October, my parents lost their lives in a fire — the same fire that claimed the lives of several staff members here at the palace and left me with this lovely souvenir you now see on the left side of my face.” He grins, his lopsided smile easily charming the crowd. “I will not bore you with the details of my recovery, nor will I attempt to convey the depth of my grief upon waking from a coma to learn my only family had perished.”
A hushed silence falls over the room.
Henry clears his throat. “What I will tell you about is the joy I felt when I learned I was not, as I’d been led to believe, the last in the Lancaster line. There was another.”
I suck in a breath when all eyes turn to me.
“An unknown cousin. A young woman I believe you have all come to know quite well, in my absence.” He laughs. “For she is not what we would describe assubtle, this lion cub cousin of mine.”
Another titter moves through the room. I think I might die of embarrassment.
Just get it over with already. Tell everyone how much I’ve screwed up, that you’re taking back your crown before I can do any more damage and banishing me from the castle…
“But you see, as I lay in my hospital bed, worrying about the state of my kingdom… I watched as that wild lion cub did something quite remarkable. She began to roar.” Henry looks over at me, eyes reflecting the light from a hundred press cameras. “She roared loud enough to shake the walls of Parliament. Loud enough to earn the right to vote for those who have been marginalized in this country for far too long. Before my very eyes, this cub became a lioness.”
I don’t know who kicks off the clapping — someone in the back row. All I know is, suddenly the entire room is applauding.
For me.
I feel my eyes beginning to water as the wave of support hits me, as hundreds of reporters put down their microphones and smartphones and notepads long enough to bring their hands together. A wolfish whistle sounds from my left and I laugh, knowing it’s Carter.
Henry lets it go on for a while, then taps the microphone for silence once more.
“Emilia Victoria Lancaster was not the queen you were promised. She was not the queen any of us expected. Least of all me.” He shakes his head lightly. “But she has become the queen we deserve. And the crown she has worn so well in my absence… I worry may no longer fit me.”
Wait.
What?