Page 100 of Rivals
“Well, yes. When I told him that you’re the Queen of America, and my friend, he was displeased.”
There was a cold hard stone in Beatrice’s throat; sheswallowed past it. “I don’t know if we’re friends. A friend would have at least warned me, instead of voting against me in public like that. Letting me be a laughingstock to everyone.”
Their eyes met in the mirror. They stared at each other, these two women who had each, in different ways, been born to rule.
“I’m sorry,” Louise said again. “As long as I’m still a Regent, I don’t have full control over my decisions. I wanted to vote in your favor, but I kept thinking of what my father would say when he came back to himself and learned what I’d done. He would have been livid.”
Beatrice’s anger ebbed, leaving nothing behind but a desolate sadness. “You’re the one who always says we should stand our ground, that people will try to marginalize us because we’re young women! But then you betrayed me because you’re scared of your father’s disapproval?”
“I don’t expect you to understand. Your family is so supportive, so warm and cuddly. But I’ve always been alone inthis.”
I feel alone, too,Beatrice wanted to say.That’s why I was so desperate to be your friend.
Louise bit her lip. “I’ve been fighting all my life for a shred of my father’s approval, and I never manage to get it.”
“If he’s that awful, then why do you care what he thinks?”
“He’s still my father, and my king. And, like a fool, I kept hoping that he would wake up one day and say, ‘What a wonderful job Louise has done during my illness!’ I thought he might be proud of me for once.”
Again, Beatrice felt so grateful that her own father had built her up—taught her to believe in herself—rather than torn her down.
“I looked up to you, you know,” she told Louise. “You always seemed so independent, sobadass.The type of person who voted according to her own beliefs, not someone else’s.”
“That’s just the version of me that I want the world to see. I’m not actually that brave. Not like you,” Louise said sadly.
To think that it had all been a mirage—that under the lipstick and black leather and flippant sarcasm, Louise was as insecure as anyone.
“Thank you for explaining things, I guess.” Beatrice started out into the hall, and Louise chased after her. The lights from the sconces shimmered on the lamé panels of her gown.
“You’re still upset with me; I can see it. But we need each other, you and I,” Louise was saying. “We’re the same.”
Beatrice halted in her steps, whirling around to look at the French princess. “That was what I thought when we first met, but I was wrong. You and I aren’t the same. I would never betray someone like this.”
“You already have! Didn’t you get rid of that bodyguard, the one you were in love with?”
Beatrice felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “What does Connor have to do with anything?”
“Becauseheis the tough choice you made in the name of America, just like I made a tough choice for France,” Louise insisted. “You got rid of the bodyguard so you could be with someone like Theodore, who is—what did you call him—‘selfless and sweet’? The type of man who will be your support system while you take the spotlight?”
“I love Teddy,” Beatrice said fiercely, and Louise threw up her hands in a frustrated gesture.
“I never said you don’t love him! But Theodore will never understand the sacrifices you have to make. I do, because I’ve already made them.”
In that moment Louise looked far older than her twenty-eight years, her blue eyes vivid with longing and heartbreak. It saddened Beatrice, to think of everything that must have happened to put such shadows in those eyes.
“I’ll see you around, Louise.” She turned wearily back toward the great hall, only to fall still.
Teddy was standing there.
“How much did you hear?” she whispered as Louise brushed past.
“Enough.”
“Teddy, I’m sorry.” She reached for him, but he recoiled from her touch.
“You never told me he was your bodyguard.” His words were hollow.
“I—what?”
