“Um, maybe because I’ve never done anything like this before! I don’t know the first thing about public relations.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? You’ve spent your entire life as the daughter of a Duke, interacting with royals and regular people simultaneously. You excel at reading hidden intentions from years of cocktail parties with shady aristocrats. You’re a whiz at pop culture. You know every meme under the sun. You’re fluent in that unique internet language which often, to an outsider like myself, seems comprised entirely of inside jokes and unfathomable references.” I elbow her lightly. “I think all of those things make you uniquely qualified to help shape my online voice.”
“But…”
“What?”
“You’d really trust me with something so important?”
“Chloe. There’s no one I’d trust more.”
When I see the gloss of tears in her eyes, I fight the swell of my own emotions. For the first time all day, my heart fills with something besides crushing sadness.
Hope.
For the future. For the girl sitting beside me. For the fight still to come.
Perhaps this is exactly what I need to do — throw myself into work. Commit myself fully to my role as queen. Push through the pain, instead of wallowing in it.
I push off the duvet cover I’ve been hiding beneath all day and slowly swing my legs to the floor. My spine creaks as I stretch my arms overhead, stretching out all the knots of tension. Turning to Chloe, I find her watching me with an expression of cautious excitement. As though she’s trying to keep from getting too carried away, in case my offer is some elaborate practical joke.
“So?” I prompt, brows raised. “What do you say? Do you want the job? Or do I have to post an advertisement in the classifieds?”
“Official Palace Social Media Manager Chloe Thorne,” she murmurs, a grin dawning across her face like a sunrise. “Has a nice ring to it.”
“It certainly does.”
“You won’t regret this, E. I promise. I’m going to take this opportunity and run with it.”
“I know you will.”
“I have so many ideas! I need to start brainstorming…” Jittery with excitement, she vaults off the bed and starts walking toward the door, muttering to herself the whole way. “First, I need to get a more comprehensive picture of what people are posting… Not just with the #IDoNotAssentmovement, but about you in general. I need to understand your image before we can improve on it. Then, we’ll need a strategy to get them talking specifically about the referendum, instead of just your outfits and epic hair…”
“You know, when I suggested you start this job, I didn’t mean you had to start right this instant.”
“Why not? Now is not the time for hesitation. We have to mobilize! If this vote is really going to happen, we need a plan of action. In fact, we’re probably already behind where we should be. When is the vote happening?”
“I’m actually not sure,” I admit sheepishly. “This is uncharted territory. Not just for me — for all of Germania. The last time a royal called for a formal referendum was during World War II. I’m not fully sure where to start.”
Chloe glances back at me, a fissure of concern appearing between her eyes. “You need someone who knows the ins and outs of kingdom politics. Someone with a buttload of experience, who’s willing to work with you to get this vote in motion and who can anticipate any opposition. Because, E… if you think the aristocracy is going down without a fight, you’re wrong. Especially with the Sterling family actively campaigning against you behind the scenes.”
“I know. I need help. I may’ve overestimated my own abilities, here.”
“You haven’t. You just need help, that’s all.”
“Well, I have you, don’t I?”
“You’ll always have me.” She winks. “I’ll do my best to help you with the social media stuff. I’m confident I can help you reach young voters, build buzz, get a groundswell of support online… But I don’t think that’s going to be enough. You’ll need the older generations’ support, too, if you actually want to win a majority vote at the polls.”
I nod slowly, possibilities tumbling around inside my head. There’s an idea taking shape in the back of my mind. One I’ve been considering for weeks, since I fired Caulfield. I’ve talked myself out of pursuing it more than once, unable to overcome my own wounded pride to make amends.
But things have changed. Chloe is right; there’s no time for pride in this scenario. If the referendum is going to pass, I’ll need advice. I’ll need allies. I may be stubborn, but this is too important to screw up. Even if it means owning up to the mistakes of my past.
“You have yourplotting-world-dominationface on.” Chloe’s head tilts as she regards me. “It’s a little scary. No wonder those fossils in Parliament are afraid of you.”
I snort. “Good. Maybe a healthy dose of fear is what they need to spur some change.”
“I hope so. But we’ll still need help.”