Page 1 of Rivals
Beatrice pulled her arms overhead in a stretch. She wondered if all brides felt like this when they returned from their honeymoons: flush with a warm, relaxed pleasure.
Except that Beatrice—Her Majesty Beatrice Georgina Fredericka Louise, Queen of America—wasn’t a normal bride. Actually, since she hadn’t gotten married, she wasn’t a bride at all.
She glanced at Theodore Eaton, the man she was supposed to have wed earlier this year. His hair was an even brighter blond after three weeks in the Caribbean sun, his skin burnished to a golden tan. Beatrice knew she looked just as relaxed and well rested.
Not that it would last, with everything that lay ahead.
In the weeks following their non-wedding, Beatrice had remained in the capital, dealing with the aftermath of her decision. She had reviewed infrastructure bills and ambassadorial appointments, and had studied foreign legislation and trade policies in preparation for the upcoming League of Kings conference. It was all the tedious, unglamorous work of being a monarch—the work Beatriceshouldhave been doing since her father died, if she hadn’t allowed herself to be sidetracked with planning her wedding.
Porcelain platters were scattered on the table before her and Teddy, laden with the remnants of their scrambled eggs and fruit. Franklin, the golden Lab puppy that she and Teddyhad adopted together—not a puppy much longer—nuzzled her leg, whining. Beatrice surreptitiously broke off a piece of toast and passed it to him under the table.
“Glad to be back?” Teddy asked.
Beatrice leaned down to rub Franklin’s velvety-soft ears. “Glad to see this guy again,” she said, and sighed. “Though I have to say, I already miss our bungalow.”
Beatrice had never really been on avacationbefore. She’d traveled all over the world, but always for a diplomatic visit or state business. Even on family trips she’d been too busy skiing, or sailing, or catching up on school assignments to relax. It was a trait she’d inherited from her father. King George IV had never taken a day off work in his life. And now that he was gone, Beatrice wished that he had.
A knock sounded at the door. “Yes?” Beatrice called out.
“Your Majesty,” the footman announced, “the Lady Chamberlain is here to see you.”
Surprised, Beatrice checked her watch: a platinum one that her father had given her on her eighteenth birthday, its hands starred with tiny diamonds. It wasn’t like her to be running late. She’d gotten too accustomed to island time—all those mornings when she and Teddy had lingered over breakfast, only to end up falling into bed again afterward.
Beatrice glanced at the footman, struck with an idea. “Why don’t you tell Anju to come on in?”
“Into the breakfast room, Your Majesty?”
“Why not?” Beatrice’s relationship with her former chamberlain, Robert Standish, had been stiff with formality. But beneath the incessant bowing andYour Majesty–ing, Robert hadn’t respected her at all. He’d been silently undermining Beatrice’s authority, trying to keep her from exerting any real power.
Robert had been far too stuffy and old-fashioned to evenconsidersitting down in the Washington family’s private breakfastroom, which was precisely why Beatrice had suggested it. She was determined to do things differently this time around.
“Bee.” Teddy cleared his throat. “Do you think you could run some of my thoughts past Anju, see if we can get moving on any of them?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
America had never had a king consort before. The only real precedents for Teddy’s position were the eleven queens consort who’d come before him—most recently, Beatrice’s mother, Queen Adelaide.
So Teddy had drawn up some ideas for responsibilities he could take on. He’d been trained as a future duke, after all; he had a great deal of experience in allocating budget, looking out for the good of his people. Beatrice knew he wouldn’t be happy doing what queens consort traditionally did—cutting ribbons, arranging tablescapes.
Of course, it wasn’t fair that the queens had been limited to domestic roles in the first place. Beatrice’s mother was one of the smartest people she knew. And, like Teddy, Adelaide had been trained to rule a duchy someday—twoduchies, in fact. But once she’d married King George, she’d been relegated to a position that was more ceremonial than political. That was just the way the monarchy worked.
Until now.
Beatrice was determined to change all of that, to show people that a woman could rule as effectively as any man. Still, she didn’t want Teddy to feel purposeless. He was too talented to sit around waiting for her to need him. Even if that was, technically, the only item in his job description.
“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later.” Teddy stood, dropping a kiss on Beatrice’s forehead as the Lady Chamberlain walked in.
After she’d fired Robert Standish, Beatrice had launched a full-scale search for a new chamberlain. She’d intervieweddozens of options before settling on Anju Mahali, who, as the former CEO of a software company, might have been the unlikeliest candidate of them all.
“Are you sure you want to hire her? She knows next to nothing about politics,” Beatrice’s mother had warned.
Honestly, Beatrice thought, the royal familyneededsomeone with a fresh perspective. And anything Anju needed to know about politics—not to mention the intricacies of protocol—she could find in Robert’s binders and file folders. He’d certainly left enough of them.
At least Anju had some experience managing public opinion. When Beatrice had called off the wedding of the century, offering no more explanation than a vague security scare, she’d expected a public reaction. There was always a reaction to every last one of her decisions, no matter how insignificant they seemed to Beatrice. She’d met with a congressional leader at his office rather than summoning him to hers—was that a gesture of respect, or of disdain? (In reality, the palace’s air-conditioning had been out that day.) She’d worn a pair of amethyst earrings—surely that was a silent cry for help, since amethysts were known to have healing vibes. (Beatrice had been especially bemused by that claim; she’d worn the earrings because her stylist thought they matched her purple dress.)
The scrutiny had only gotten worse after her controversial decision to postpone the wedding. All summer, people had been speaking out against her, in op-eds and on talk shows and in social-media rants.It’s not that I’m antifeminist,they would begin,but—
As if that singlebutabsolved them of anything they said next.But she’s so young and inexperienced. But it’s hard to imagine she could ever live up to her father. But she called off her own wedding; don’t you worry that’s a sign of emotional instability?
