Page 29 of Thrones We Steal

“For fuck’s sake, Celia. You are not to go anywhere without an armed escort, understand?”

I want to tell him where he can stick his armed escorts, but even I recognize the common sense behind his directive. “I know how to take care of myself.”

“For once in your life, just do as you’re told. I’ve got enough on my plate without worrying about you too.”

“I never asked you to worry. I’ll be fine.”

“But if something happens to you, the Crown will take the fall for it.”

My pencil tip snaps. He’s never expressed such regard for the Crown’s reputation before. “Your concern is touching.”

“Just stay safe, okay? I’ll let you know if there’s anything to report.”

By the time another week passes, a bomb threat is made against the palace, several businesses are broken into and looted, and a police officer is shot during a particularly nasty riot.

The Wesbourne I know and love has turned into an ugly monster. I wonder if I’ve been mistaken all along. Is there any good in this country worth saving, or have I been living in delusion? Half the country wants me out of the picture entirely, and the other half thinks I should be crowned her queen without further ado.

None of them care what I want.

Someone has taken a giant black crayon to my beautiful drawing and scribbled on it, until the beauty has been obliterated and only the ugly remains.

10

“Fire Save Us” - Iliya Zaki

It seems the Crown is facing her demons after all.

My mother, Beatrice, and I have been invited to attend a meeting at the palace. They give no details, simply ask that we arrive at the Green Drawing Room at 2:00 pm. It’s worded as a request, but when a summons comes from Wesbourne Palace, a temporary restraining order is put upon your free will.

So we go.

The drawing room is hushed as we walk in, like a wake, everyone afraid of speaking above a whisper for fear of resurrecting the dead. A footman ushers us to chairs at a large table that’s been set up in the center of the room. His counterpart serves tea and coffee, the wheels of the drink cart fracturing the silence like a high-pitched giggle as she pushes it around the room.

The prime minister is already seated on the other side of the table, in a hushed conversation with someone I guess to be one of the Crown’s advisors. The man I recognize as the press secretary is seated near them, as well as a few other people. None of the royal family is here, but I can’t imagine we’ll be meeting without them.

I accept a cup of tea and use it to warm my icy fingers. I requested it in hopes it would calm my nerves, but I probably should have asked for coffee instead. Because let’s be honest: nothing is going to calm my nerves at this stage. The next hour could very easily determine my future.

I might have to be sick before it’s over.

Henry enters and this prompts Beatrice to sit up straighter. He winks at her before unbuttoning his suit coat and sitting across the table from us. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

I sip my tea and visualize ramming a hundred darts into that pretty face of his. Beside me, Beatrice runs her fingers through her hair before toying with the ends. Does she have any idea how obvious she appears?

“Why are we here?” she whispers across the table.

Before Henry can answer, King William and Queen Olivia walk in. Henry’s parents are as dissimilar as two people I’ve ever met, like opposing chess pieces. William is dark and brooding, his face lined with a hard anger he’d look naked without.

If he’s a storm cloud, his wife is the sun. Olivia is petite and polished and looks more like born royalty than her husband does. Her blonde hair is flawlessly swept away from her face, leaving it free to smile and radiate warmth in the wake of William’s storminess. Wesbourne loves her. They tolerate him.

But no matter what you think of his tax rate or the permanent scowl on his face, you have to admire the guy. Anyone who can mastermind the institution of ten thousand new jobs during a global recession, while backing the implementation of more trade programs in public schools, can’t be all bad. Of course, the more people holding jobs, the more the Crown collects in income tax and subsequently lines William’s own pockets. But still. You won’t catch me complaining about something that so significantly improved this country.

Everyone stands in deference while they take their seats. The prime minister opens the meeting and relays the recent events that we are all too familiar with already, and that have culminated in the need for some kind of action on the part of the Crown. Are they just coming to this realization, or is this statement intended to give the rest of us the impression that they’ve simply been too busy in the past month to care?

“The most concerning of all of these events is the call to arms that has recently been broadcast throughout this city, as well as the other major cities in Wesbourne. It appears the citizens have decided to take matters into their own hands. We have no idea how many people would actually rise up, but any amount is too many.

“Our country cannot withstand a war of any kind. If we are divided, we become ripe for invasion from other countries. Although we have the United States as our ally, our treaty specifically stipulates they will not offer aid in the event of a civil war. It is imperative we avoid that at all costs.” The PM clears his throat.

“As some of you know, Parliament held an emergency session yesterday. During that session, several suggestions were made of how we might maintain the peace in Wesbourne. Of these suggestions, there was only one that was voted by the majority to be in the best interest of our country and her people. Only one seemed to carry the potential to ultimately diffuse the ticking time bomb we are facing right now and hopefully eliminate all talk of civil war. Parliament voted to go ahead and present this option to the parties who would be affected and who will ultimately need to decide on the course of action they are willing to take.

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