Page 132 of Thrones We Steal

“Don’t get me started on the one who brought his mother along, because apparently they were a package deal.”

“You’re right. I was lucky when it came to dating.” Beck is the only man I’ve officially dated, aside from a few blind dates set up by friends. Even those weren’t horrific. “But just because you don’t see the pain, doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“I can understand the Beck situation. Your hands were tied. But I thought you loved Henry. Why walk away from that?”

I stare out the window as we ride through the streets of Wesbourne City. Pedestrians turn and wave when they see the flags flying from the bonnet of the car.

“Loving someone doesn’t mean they’ll love you back,” I say quietly.

I am done trying with Henry, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t nights I lie awake thinking about the sound of his voice or his hands sliding down my body. I recognize the ache in my chest for what it is: missing him and what we never had. But I’m the queen of the country, and I can’t afford to waste my thoughts on a man who doesn’t deserve them.

Maisie’s right though. He would be able to help me figure out a way to turn the royal finances around. He’s brilliant at solving problems, even if he’s equally brilliant at breaking hearts.

But brilliant or not, there’s no way in hell I’m talking to him. Even if I could trust him, I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen or heard from him since the day he left his hotel room in London, other than that brief flash at my coronation. He could have set up camp in Antarctica for all I know or care.

“I’m sorry,” she says. I can see in her eyes that she means it.

“Good thing I’m too busy being queen to have a love life, right? I’ll have to live vicariously through yours from now on.”

“Oh god,” she says, rolling her eyes before tapping away at her tablet.

“We’ll have to find you some better candidates though. I don’t want bunions and IBS haunting my dreams.”

“How about—”

But I don’t find out what she’s about to suggest because the sound of screeching metal tears through the air. My body lifts from the seat, and I’m hurled forward. I slam into something hard, and then everything goes black.

* * *

I wake to the cloying scent of antiseptic burning my nose. My mouth is parched. There’s something cool under my hands. I blink my eyes open. It takes me a second to realize I’m in a hospital room and the beeping is the myriad of monitors hooked up to me.

Panic grips me. I search for the nearest exit. I can’t be here. I cannot be in this place where death waits in the halls, ready to snatch you as soon as you let your guard down. I can’t die. I have people to lead. They may not like me very much right now, but I am still their queen.

I take several calming breaths. I can’t be dying. There’s no way that death feels like this.

I do a quick assessment. I can feel all of my limbs, so that’s good, but my head is pounding like it’s been used as a battering ram recently. Whatever pain meds they have me on must be strong because, while the pain is in check now, I can feel the monster rattling the cage.

A movement to my left makes me turn my head to the side, which I instantly regret when the throbbing increases. Rosalind hurries to the side of my bed.

“Don’t move. Are you able to talk?”

“Water,” I croak.

She holds one of those nasty plastic cups to my lips. I obediently take a sip. Maybe this is death after all.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I was run over by a large truck.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“I remember being in the car. Everything’s hazy after that.”

“The car struck a cement barrier. It’s a miracle you’re even here.” She brushes her hand over the sheet covering my legs, smoothing away invisible wrinkles.

“Maisie?” I squeak out.

“She’s very fortunate. Minor injuries only. The car wasn’t traveling very fast. You were thrown against the divider behind the driver.”

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