Page 8 of The Crown

Jo snorted.

“And if she doesn’t, we’ll take her off our invite list. Simple as that.”

He ran a hand up the skin on her back, trailing goosebumps in its wake.

She sighed. “Your hands are magic.”

His eyes darkened and he held her closer, swaying as one to the song.

4

Breakfast brought another round of pictures of Jo on the far wall. This time, no one was pleased. Least of all Jo, but the queen seemed almost furious. “We hold an event for the most important charity our family supports, and all they can talk about is Jo.”

Jo looked nervously at Nico, but his teeth were clenched. The far wall held side by side images of Jo’s two dips of the evening. First with Nico and then with Samson Baldeez.

Even Trane looked concerned. Picture after picture showed Jo smiling and laughing with a different gentleman. Each angled so as to present the most intimate posturing. She didn’t even remember meeting some of them. They were peppered with shots of Nico looking irritated, bothered, frustrated, and even awkward.

Not one chose to highlight the dear family she had invited, or their children. And no one covered the messages spoken or the successes of the past year.

Francisco stopped on the last picture, one of Jo and Nico dancing. Someone had captured her mock scowl, her mimic of Monique, and coupled it with the headline, “Trouble with the Torren crown?” He snapped the remote down on the table, and Jo jerked her eyes to his.

“This shot is the most troubling of all. Your unity as a couple is the most important thing you bring to the throne. This is not a job for one. There is a king, yes, and there is a queen.” He nodded to his wife. “And the throne would not be complete without both.”

“But none of this is real.” Jo felt the need to defend herself. “They have painted a false impression.”

“Is it?” Francisco eyed them both.”

“Well of course.” She turned to Nico. But his eyes avoided hers.

“Nico?”

He cleared his throat. “Of course it is a false impression. We love each other as much as ever.” His words sounded overly compensating. She searched his face. “Nico?”

He dropped his hand onto the table. And his face colored. “I hate that these conversations are full family affairs.”

Jo looked around the room, even more self-conscious. “Should we go for a walk?” A great fear filled her, suddenly and irrationally. Could he be doubting his choice?

“We should. But first, I’ll tell everyone. I was concerned. Every time another one of those men approached her I wanted to pound him, but I was stuck across the room entertaining this person or that. When all I wanted was to be at her side.”

Jo reached for him. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.’

He squeezed her hand. “But Jo’s scowl. That was just a diversion between the two of us. We were joking about something and Jo does an excellent imitation of—”

“Monique.” Trane finished, his eyes appraising them both.

The other brothers laughed. “Wow, look at that. It does look like her.” Trane tried to imitate the pinched lips, and they laughed again.

Until their father cleared his throat. “Perhaps she should begin her lessons with you today, my dear.”

His wife nodded. “We will begin with the many variations of, “The poker face.””

“Ugh.” Nico groaned. “We can be ourselves in public, mother.”

“Not all of the sides of ourselves.” She frowned. “We see where that got you all these years.”

Another jab at Nico. Jo hurt for him. Could his mother not just let it go? Praise him for his progress?

Jo felt terrible, all the happiness from yesterday drained, leaving her desolate. “I’m sorry Nico. Everyone. I thought I was doing my job by entertaining everyone in the room. What I wanted most was a quiet moment with Nico and those families. I would have been pleased with only that.”

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