Page 95 of Coronation
“The car will be here soon. Harrold set the meeting with the prime minister and cabinet for early this afternoon.” He grimaces. “It has to be today, Zelda. I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t apologize. I’m just…” I trail off, not quite able to put my finger on what exactly I’m feeling right now. Scared? Happy? Guilty? Hopeful? All of the above seems to be the only true answer. For now, all I can do is voice the fear that’s been on my mind since I agreed to marry him. “What if they make you abdicate? Because of me?”
Ben leans back in his chair, gazing at me. “That isn’t going to happen.”
“What if itdoes, though?” I haven’t wanted to ask a lot of questions about the youngest Ashwell, but Ben and Damien both have alluded to him not being entirely well. It’s pretty clear to me that duty and honor aren’t the only things that have kept my husband from dispensing with the crown he never wanted. He’s protecting his little brother, too.
Obviously sensing the internal spiral, Ben sighs. “I’m aware that telling you not to worry won’t achieve the desired effect. But, darling, this isn’t your burden to bear. You have done nothing wrong, and I don’t believe I have either. The law and morality aren’t mutually exclusive. If the prime minister wants to drag me through the mud for marrying the mother of my child, I believe the people will agree I have the moral high ground.”
“But, Leo?—”
“Agreed that removing a king for breaking an irrelevant, outdated law is unlikely.” He fixes me with a stern look. “I spoke to him about it at length before I proposed.”
That Leo gave this plan his blessing does make me feel the tiniest bit better, and I manage a tight smile as I reach for my smoothie. Ben watches me take the first sip,carefully cataloguing my expression for signs of distaste, and when I lower the glass back to the table, he raises his eyebrows.
“Well?”
“It’s amazing. The kale was a great addition.” It really wasn’t; the concoction is almost appallingly bitter, but Ben looks so pleased with himself that forcing it down with a smile is worth it.
Leaning in for a brief kiss, he stands, checking his watch again. Something inside me pangs, not just at the thought of him going to this very important, life-changing meeting, but also at the thought of saying goodbye for the dayagain. After all the emotional ups and downs of the last few days, I’m feeling distinctly clingy, and separating from him for any amount of time sounds horrible.
“Can I come with you?” I ask hesitantly. “Not to the meeting with the prime minister, obviously, but just… with you. I can hang out at the palace. Then you don’t need to drive all the way back tonight.”
Ben’s answering look is very soft. “I’ll save you some time, darling. Whenever you ask me that question, for the rest of our lives, the answer is going to be yes.”
Forty
Benedict
“Ihave married Zelda Flowers.”
For a long moment, the wood-paneled boardroom in Parliament is totally silent but for the steady ticking of a handsome grandfather clock in the corner. Across from me sits the newly appointed prime minister, the minority party leader, and a collection of high-ranking cabinet members, all of whom look similarly shocked by my pronouncement.
Typically, meetings of this sort are scheduled weeks in advance and come with an agenda, so I can hardly blame them for being caught off guard. Even so, after what feels like a full minute has passed and still not a single one of them has spoken, I decide I have better things to do than wait for them to recover.
“Well, then. Thank you all for your time.” I shove my chair back and am halfway to standing when the PM finally drags himself from whatever state of disbelief he was suspendedin.
“Married?Zelda Flowers?” he demands with such an outraged expression, anyone would think I’d struck him.
“Last night. At a small church in Fernhill.” Reluctantly, I sink back down and fold my hands before me on the table, begrudgingly accepting this will not be a brief discussion.
Outraged reaction or not, I’m determined to offer not a hint of regret for my actions as I stare back at the man, unsmiling and unapologetic.
When I woke this morning with Zelda’s bare body pressed against mine, filled with a sense of completeness I’ve never known before, I knew I would have my work cut out for me in this meeting.
These people would expect me to apologize for breaking the law and royal protocol, to express my contrition, and beg for Parliament’s cooperation so I might keep my crown. As my beautiful young wife crawled down my body to wrap her lips around my cock, I was quite certain I would do no such thing.
“Sir,” pleads the PM, his eyes all but bulging out of his head. “Can this be undone? An annulment, perhaps?”
I snort, resisting the urge to inform the man of ourthoroughconsummation efforts. “Even if it could, I wouldn’t allow it.”
“But-but-surely, sir, you are aware of the long-standing traditions surrounding royal marriages? State weddings? A monarch must seek permission from Parliament to marry a foreign national! This is a flagrant disregard for Stelland’s law!” He’s ramping up his indignation now, face reddening and hands curling into fists atop the glossy wood table. At his sides, cabinet members exchange low murmurs and cast each other stunned, disbelieving looks.
Sighing, I look back at him, determined to remain calm and reasonable. “That law was passed in 1834 and is totally irrelevant in the modern context. Or are you saying you believe my wife is a spy?”
“Whether I believe she is a spy or not is inconsequential! These legal formalities you so callously disregarded were put in place for a reason. They aren’t for you to pick and choose which to follow and when. Surely you see the position you’re putting us in. This woman?—”
“This woman?” I interject, each word dripping with outraged disbelief. “Do you make a habit of referring to members of the royal family in such a way?”
