Page 23 of Princess Bride Swap

What a strange responsibility to put on your grandson. Even if she’d had little faith in the male heirs, it still seemed a stretch to prepare Lyon fromchildhoodto potentially take over. But she supposed that was what made him good at his role. What he’d learned. That responsibility that had been pressed upon him.

One that made the wordrevolutionsound so bitter on his tongue. “You’re afraid of that, aren’t you? That’s why you’re so concerned about...optics and stability.” What would he think of a wife who became a shaking, crying mess out of nowhere? Not a comforting thought as they climbed higher and higher still.

“Afraid is not the word I would use,” he said carefully, navigating a steep curve as if it were nothing.

She was almost entertained in spite of herself by how clearly he didn’t like the idea he might beafraid.

“It is a concern,” he continued. “But I am well-equipped to handle parliament.”

She had no doubt he was. He seemed endlessly capable of handling everything.

Even you?

Well, he certainly made her wonder. It wasn’t just the aura he had of...leadership. That passed-down royal thing that had skipped her entirely, that he could walk into a room and everyone would look to him to handle whatever problems arose.

But it was the kindness that she was struggling with. Because if he was kind, would he be cruel to her if he knew about her panic attacks? She wanted to believe he would, because that would mean protecting herself.

But kindness meant a little sliver of her mind sometimes thoughtwhat if.

“Particularly the parliamentary members who enthusiastically cheered on my family members’ worst impulses,” he continued, his expression growing dark. “They will not do the same with me.”

“Why would they do that? Isn’t that counterproductive? Don’t they want a stable monarch?”

“You would be surprised what men would do for power,” he said grimly. “Their goals were not the good of Divio. Their goals were the good of their own pockets and reach. Sometimes that meant a leader too dependent on the drink to do their job, or too busy chasing women to notice that money is not going where it should. It rarely means a leader who is in control.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want if not power? Being crown prince certainly gives you said power. Being a leader in control is just...power.”

“Yes, but it is also a responsibility. I will not squander it as my family has before me. I care about my country. I will wield my power only insofar as it serves our citizens. That is my one and always goal.”

Beau considered this, and wondered if it was a speech her father would get behind. It certainlysoundedlike him, but only the superficial words. Country first. Responsibility to country. Damn anything that gets in the way—like a frivolous wife and two rebellious children.

But she was not sure her father had ever considered his role aresponsibilityso much as a right.Hisbirthright. What he wasowed. It was power, and it was his.

In the end, it didn’t matter how much Lyon sounded like Father or didn’t. She’d saidI do. She’d made this bed, and she had to lie in it whether Lyon was a monster or not. So far, he was...interesting. Confusing. But not a monster.

“Did it occur to no one to change the law, allowing female heirs to take the role?” Beau suggested, making the mistake of looking outside once more then, shaken by all thatskywhen they were driving on theground, immediately looked down at her lap.

“A resolution has never been brought forward. But I will propose one.”

“You will?”

“Once the timing is right. I want stability, and the kingdom to trust me. To trust what the monarchy offers. But not at the cost of moving on with the times. Divio must be a part of the modern world. But one thing at a time. First, we give them that which they have done without for so many years. A respectable, secure leader.”

She nodded along with that. It made sense, and underscored the point that Lyon hadplans. An entire blueprint for the rest of his life. Which now included hers. If she disappointed him, he no doubt had a plan for that too. She would have asked him about that, but the car came to a stop.

Beau gingerly peered out the windshield. She saw very little aside from blue sky and intimidating mountain. Definitely not a chalet. “Why are we stopping? I thought you said the drive was hours? Is something wrong?”

“You are safe, Beau,” Lyon said, reaching over and giving her hand a squeeze. “I want to show you something.”

Then he did the strangest thing and got out of the car. It appeared they were on the side of the road, not parked in the middle of it, but still this felt decidedlyunsafe. But her passenger side door opened and he held out a hand to her. “Come.”

She wanted to shake her head. She considered refusing. But there was something about Lyon’s directives that did not get her back up like just about everyone else in her life trying to tell her what to do. Maybe it was a confidence born of self-assuredness—rather than Father’s bluster, Mother’s desperation, or Zia’s determination to protect Beau at all costs—even when she hadn’t needed it.

Self-assuredness was one thing Beau, ironically enough considering her experience with social anxieties and panic attacks, understood quite well.

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