It’s strange to think I’ll never blindly sip anything again. Being poisoned never once crossed my mind in the two decades I lived before becoming a Lancaster. Not when I was taking a tequila shot from the well at Hennessy’s, not when I was popping a free sample into my mouth while wandering the grocery store aisles, not when I bought tacos from my favorite food truck on campus after a late-afternoon psychology class.
But since the night of my coronation, when an unknown assassin spiked the royal champagne with curare, every morsel that crosses my lips is as closely monitored as the rest of my existence.
Chloe accepts her seltzer water with a wink. “Thanks, Galizia.”
“No problem, Lady Thorne.”
“Really?” Chloe’s nose wrinkles. “Still calling me Lady Thorne? I’m wounded! I thought you were my friend, B.”
“If byfriendyou meanprofessional bodyguard obligated to protect the queen and all members of her entourage, then yes. We are friends.”
Chloe looks at me. “Does she ever loosen up?”
“Only when Riggs is flirting with her.”
Galizia looks mortified. “Your Majesty—”
“Oh, save the outrage for someone who’s buying it. You two trade so many sexually charged glances, I’m surprised my hair doesn’t stand on end with static every time I visit the Gatehouse.” I tilt my head at her. “I just don’t get why you’re so resistant to the idea of being with him, Galizia.”
“Agreed,” Chloe says. “He’s hot. But not in a cocky way. In that casually confident way that lets you know he’s seriouslypacking heatin more ways than one. If you catch my drift.”
“A deaf mute would catch your drift,” I tell her, rolling my eyes.
“Subtlety is strongly overrated, E.”
“Know what else is overrated?” I glance back at Galizia. “Continually shutting down a man who’s crazy about you for no good reason at all.”
“A man with BDE, no less,” Chloe adds.
“BDE?”
“Big dick energy.”
Galizia’s teeth are gritted in a scary smile. “Lady Thorne. Queen Emilia. I urge you to keep in mind that Commander Riggs can hearevery word you’re sayingvia the comm-piece in my ear.”
Chloe snorts into her seltzer. “Oops.”
I wince. “At least we were being complimentary…?”
My guard continues to glare at me.
I turn to Chloe. “Quick, let’s go look at some art before she kills us.”
“Or before any more vultures make a grab for yourroyal patronage.” She pauses. “That sounded like an innuendo but, for once, I was totally serious.”
Our spirits are high as we wind our way through the loop of galleries specially curated for this event, passing priceless oils and watercolors dating back hundreds of years. Several acquaintances stop us along the way for bouts of tepid smalltalk.
Lovely to see you.
Wonderful to make your acquaintance.
And so it goes, on and on and on, until my eyes are half-glazed over. I thank my lucky stars Chloe’s beside me, since keeping track of the names and titles of every aristocrat in the kingdom is about as easy as threading a needle in a pitch black room… while wearing mittens. Her lifetime of rubbing elbows with these people comes quite in handy.
“Incoming, on your left,” she whispers when we stop in front of a baroque-period statue. “Baroness Nye of Jaarlsburg. She’s old money. Like…Germanic Warsold. Loves to let everyone know it, too. Just wait — she’ll bid on the most expensive item later, even if she has no interest in it. Guaranteed.”
“Have I met her?”
“Probably. She attends all the society-set events. She was at Lady Sterling’s afternoon tea a few months ago.”