Page 93 of Coronation
Lots of angry gesticulating and moving of mouths follows this.
I glance over at Ben and can tell he is trying his best not to laugh at my delivery of this very important news. I sigh, turning my attention back to my family. “I will now take questions fromone of you at a time.” Deciding to kick things off with the most pragmatic of the bunch, I unmute my eldest brother. “Okay, Sterling, you’re up.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just to be sure we’re talking about the same person, you’ve married the king, correct? Benjamin?”
“Benedict, and yes.”
“Right.” He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “So that would make you…”
I bob my head in confirmation. “Queen, that’s right. Apparently, some countries use the title of King or Queen Consort for the person who married into the royal family, but Stelland doesn’t make the differentiation. Anything else?”
Sterling blinks at me. “Uh, I suppose—” I’ve already muted him, however, and turned unmuted privileges over to the least sensible of the bunch, my mother, whose mouth hasn’t stopped moving the entire time, apparently not realizing that none of us could hear her.
“—universe truly does move through you, dear heart. If this is what brings you joy, I support it entirely and welcome dear Benedict into our family with open arms.”
I clasp my hands to my chest. “Thank you so much, Mom, that means the world to me.”
“Truly, I’m so happy for you both. Let me sing a short song to bless your union.The?—”
I mute her and myself, before looking back to Ben again. “You know, I think I’ve just revolutionized family meetings. This is the fastest-moving, most productive conversation we’ve ever had, and all it took was one little button.”
“You’re a visionary.”
Despite the dryness of this statement, Ben is grinning as he finishes adding my specified flaxseed portion to the smoothie, and my heart is so full as I turn my attention back to my family. Mom is still singing, which confirms the mute choice was good for everyone. Unfortunately, now it’s Dad’s turn.
I sigh, clicking the icon at the corner of his window. “Alright. Dad. You’re up.”
My father glares at me. He’s framed by the bright wall of glass that lines three sides of his enormous office back in LA, his gray hair rumpled and lips pressed into the irritated, flatline that he always makes when one of his children reminds him he isn’tactuallymaster of the universe.
“Please tell me you had him sign a prenup.”
The statement makes me laugh. “I’m pretty sure he’s the one who should’ve had me sign one.”
A nerve in Dad’s forehead twitches. “Have you seenactual confirmationthat this man’s assets exceed yours? Did you research the divorce laws in this country he’s from? Don’t be naive, Zelda, you have amassed a very large net worth for so young a person. That’s on top of your trust fund and your inheritance from your grandparents. Then there are the estates that will come to you when your mother and I die. That kind of money makes you a target.”
Oh, for god’s sake.“This is a super optimistic conversation. Thank you.”
“I’d like to consult with the family attorneys, and—” That’s it. He’s muted.
“Thank you for your question, Dad,” I chirp, lacing my fingers together atop the table. “No, Ben is not after my money; he has plenty of his own. However, if signing something legal to that effect would make you more comfortable, we can certainly discuss it.” Another peek over at Ben, who offers me an exasperated look. Beaming, I look back to Dad. “Oh, look at that. It’s been discussed, and he’s fine with it. Next question?”
Cal’s turn, and my second least sensible family member doesn’t disappoint. “Congratulations, Z. If you’re happy, I’m happy. When can we meet him?”
My eyes fill instantly with tears as I’m filled with fondness for all of my incredibly insane family members. Sniffing, I look to Ben, who has gone still, a hint of reservation in his expression. He’s nervous because he knows these people, my family, are important to me, and now they’re his family, too. It says a lot about how confident I am in him that I’m not even alittle bit worried about dragging him right into the deep end with us.
Far slower to agree than when I posed my wordless question about Dad’s legal stuff, Ben nods.
It takes him a minute to go find a shirt, but when he returns downstairs, his hair is flat, and he looks a little more composed as he sinks into the chair beside mine. I push the computer forward, adjusting the screen so we’re both in view of the camera, and almost start crying again as I see Ben’s face reflected amidst all the most important people in my life.
For the first time since everyone joined the call, I unmute them all. “Okay, everyone, this is Ben. Ben, these are my parents, Owen and Birdie, my brothers, Sterling and Calvin, and my little sister, Sybil.”
“It’s very nice to meet all of you,” Ben tells them, taking my hand beneath the table. “I’m aware this must seem very abrupt, and that you don’t know me in the slightest, or have any reason to trust me. This woman is the love of my life, though, and I hope you will come to see that my only priority is making her happy.”
Ringing silence follows this pronouncement, and—in a turn of events that every single person here probably expected—I start crying. With a gentle smile, Ben wraps an arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side as I sniff, trying to get it together to absolutely no avail.
My family isn’t fazed, ignoring the sudden outburst of emotion from the third least sensible among them as their voices come through the computer speaker in a jumbled mess of jokes, begrudging greetings, and excitable questions. I can’t tell what a single one of them is saying. At least, until Sybil’s voice rises above everyone else’s.
“I think it’s my turn to ask a question?” She leans back in her chair, arms crossed.
