Page 24 of American Royals II: Majesty
“Will you be honest with me?”
Whatever Beatrice had expected, it wasn’t this.
“Look—I know there will be things you don’t want to share,” he hurried to add. “Some things youcan’tshare, because of who you are. When that happens, I’d rather you just admit that you can’t tell me something, instead of feeling like you need to lie. And I swear that I will do the same.”
The room had become very small and still. Beatrice’s heart pounded against the rigid corset of the gown.
She wondered what secrets Teddy was trying to keep from her. Was he worried she would ask him about his history with Samantha? Or was he asking this forhersake, because he somehow knew about her and Connor?
Whatever his reasons, Beatrice saw the wisdom in Teddy’s request. He was right.
There might not be love between them—but therecouldbe trust, if they built it. And trust might allow for privacy, even secrets, but never for lies.
“I agree. Let’s always tell each other the truth.”
Teddy nodded and stood, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. His grip was warm, and steady, and firm.
For some reason, Beatrice thought back to the day she’d proposed. She remembered how utterly strange Teddy’s hand had felt in hers.
It didn’t seem quite so wrong, this time.
Daphne was very quiet as she browsed the rack of silk tops, her ears straining to catch the conversation of the women behind her. She didn’t dare alert them by turning around, so she couldn’t see their faces, but she sensed from the quiet intensity of their voices that they were discussing something scandalous.
She hadn’t come to Halo, her favorite boutique, with the express intent of eavesdropping—but Daphne had long ago learned to keep her ears and eyes open.
If she learned something good, she could pass it to Natasha at theDaily News.Daphne had been slipping her gossip items for years now, in exchange for favorable coverage from the magazine. Or, if it wasreallygood, Daphne might even find a way to use it for her own ends. Like that time years ago, before she and Jefferson were dating, when she’d caught Lady Leonor Harrington in a back stairwell with one of the palace security guards.
Daphne had assured Lady Harrington that she would keep the secret—but had also gently suggested that the noblewoman sponsor her application to the Royal Ballet Guild, notoriously the capital’s most exclusive charity group. Then Daphne had convinced the security guard to let her into the palace a few times at big events, when no one would notice an extra guest.
That was the thing about secrets. You could trade them over and over again.
Her phone vibrated in her quilted purse. Daphne reached to silence it, hoping it wouldn’t startle the gossiping women—but when she saw the name on the caller ID, her mouth went dry.
Himari Marikocouldn’tbe calling, because Himari had been in a coma for almost a year. She’d fallen down the palace’s back staircase the night of the twins’ graduation party, in what everyone thought was a tragic accident.
Though Daphne knew it was her fault.
Her skin crawling with trepidation, she accepted the call. “Hello?”
“It’s me.”
Hearing Himari’s voice in her ear was like communing with a ghost.
Daphne took a step back, bracing her hand on a table of folded silk shorts. “You woke up.”
“Just this morning,” Himari said. “And starting tomorrow I can have visitors. Will you come?”
There was something wet on her face; Daphne reached up to wipe it away, surprised to find that she was crying. That arealemotion had awoken beneath the countless false ones that she wore so beautifully. The sheer force of it hit her like a blow.
“Of course,” she whispered, already halfway out the door.
After all this time, Himari was back. Her best friend, her confidante, her partner in crime—and maybe her downfall.
The next morning, Daphne strode down the long-term care ward of St. Stephen’s Hospital, a gift basket clutched in her arms. She nodded at various doctors and nurses as she passed, but beneath her usual demure smile, her mind was whirling.
She had no idea what to do now that Himari was awake. Should she walk in the room and beg for forgiveness, or go instantly on the attack? Maybe she could offer Himari a sort of bargain: give her something she wanted, in exchange for keeping the secret of what had really sent her into a coma that night.
It had all started last spring. Himari had caught Daphne and Ethan together, and threatened to tell Jefferson what she knew. Daphne had pleaded with her to calm down, but her friend refused to listen. She clearly wanted to break up Daphne and Jefferson, then make a play for the prince herself.
