Page 34 of Samhain

I forced a smile and took a sip of my Earl Grey, but it tasted rancid despite the cream and sugar. “Yes. Well, my nonprofit aids in building sustainable infrastructure for regenerative horticulture.”

When I’d come home from LA, I’d been obliged to join the royal family and take up my noble cause to give back to the society that sustained me. My grandparents had wanted to turn my image around, make me more palatable to the general public. In an effort to take up the mantle as my father’s daughter, I’d dedicated myself to something I loved, and saving the environment became my number one priority. I’d joined forces with Danae Enterprises and accepted a position as their royal ambassador. Together, we hoped to push political agendas in a more environmentally favorable direction, which was where I stepped in.

I’d been schmoozing rich wankers like the Prince of Monaco out of their assets since I could talk. But I did love to garden, and given my particular ability, I made lots of things grow where they never had before.

“But after I save the planet?” I gave a nonchalant shrug in an attempt to be charming. “Maybe a garden or two would suffice.”

Reginald laughed in a dark chuckle. He seemed like a nice man, someone who would allow me to sleep around provided he could do the same. We’d have to have children, of course. That would be required. But I could close my eyes and think of England a few times a year. Hundreds of my grandmothers had done it before.

I took another leisurely sip of tea and wished there was whiskey in it. Or arsenic. Anything would be better than this.

“Well, you should see the rose gardens in Monaco. They are beautiful in late spring,” he said.

“The prince has dedicated several to members of the family,” my grandmother added, like I was supposed to be impressed. All this talk about plants and gardens only reminded me of the sowing I had to do at Aberdeen. I hadn’t been in a few weeks, and though I paid people to tend to it in my absence, I preferred to work the earth myself, to feel the dirt between my fingers. It brought me so much solace in this chaotic world.

As if putting a cherry on top of that thought, Reginald said, “Shall we talk bride-price?”

I nearly spit out my tea through my nose.

Later, after I’d promised a trip to Monaco in exchange for a generous contribution to Danae’s cause, I wandered the halls at Kensington, reminiscing about the first time I met Lex. I’d led him through this very corridor to the secret stairway, taking him outside so we could get stoned and gossip about the high holy patriarchs and their high holy plans.

Ages had passed between now and then.

I loved him the same.

I still loved all of them the same.

I’d become a ghost here, haunting this ancient castle as relics of my foremothers hung on the walls to remind me I was the latest in a long line of women who’d been auctioned off to the highest bidder. I had hoped the world would have changed after all these years, and maybe it had for every other person. But for me, someone burdened with thousands of years of history on my crown, it was more of the same.

I couldn’t have who I wanted. I never could. So why did it matter who I married in the end? Be it the prince of Monaco or some other old man with a fortune. I was nothing more to my family than a face and a name to be traded.

I’d tried to take lovers in the time since I’d left Carter, but I couldn’t get into it with anyone else. I revolted at the touch of someone else’s kiss. My lover would trail their fingers down my stomach, and I’d grab the hand to stop it. Nothing about any encounter made me want the way I’d wanted with them. It was like tasting the best chocolate in the world and then being forced to live with cheap petrol-station sweets for the rest of your life.

Fine. I’d marry the prince of Monaco. I’d spit out his children because they’d be my children, too. At the end of the day, family was all I really wanted—someone to call my own.

My vows came back to me from Midsummer, as they often did when I gave way to despondency and broodiness.

“I’ll love you, all of you. I’ll honor you and respect you. I’ll never betray you. I’ll never hold you back from your dreams or each other. I’ll be honest with all of you. From today. Until the end.”

When I’d made that promise, I didn’t realize how far away the end would feel when I was slogging through the middle.

Working for Danae was more than appearances. Yes, it had started because I needed a grand cause to support, but going in to see the staff a few days a week gave me purpose, something to look forward to. It was the only time Gran let me out of the castle unsupervised and unscheduled.

It wasn’t much, and if it were up to me, I’d work full-time. But being HRH Princess Miriam Stuart, duchess of Aberdeen, didn’t afford me the luxury of being normal. Between my grandmother loaning me out to her royal friends and the agenda Sandra thrust on me the minute I returned home, I barely had time to breathe, let alone hold down a full-time job outside of public service.

But if I could…If I’d been born any other person in any other household…I’d rule Danae Enterprises with an iron fist. I wouldn’t stop until I squashed the bleeders destroying this planet. I wouldn’t stop until I’d healed every last piece.

The scars on my hand itched, and I absently rubbed at them with the thumb on my opposite hand. Just when I’d decided to take the stairs toward my apartment, a wave of lust hit me in the gut so hard, I nearly toppled over. I held on to the metal railing to keep myself upright and gripped at my lower abdomen, clenching my thighs around a cunt that throbbed and demanded attention. It had come out of nowhere, like I’d swallowed a handful of arousal pills with no chaser. My blood thrummed through my veins, making me run hot and sticky.

It felt like…It felt like…

No. It’s not possible.

It had been two years since Midsummer, and I’d been trapped in this palatial prison for weeks now. The only person who prepared my food also did so for the king and queen of England.

This can’t be happening. This…can not…be happening.

Yet, another round of arousal assaulted me, forcing me to clench my eyes closed and squeeze my legs together, exactly like it had that day in Ireland when we were out in the woods or three days later when it took us in the dorm room. Now, it slammed me behind the legs and I fell to my knees on the staircase.

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