Page 107 of Rivals
Beatrice didn’t know whether she was happy for her sister, or afraid for her, or a tiny bit jealous. Even if she wasn’t going to follow Sam’s example and renounce her position as queen, part of her envied the freedom Sam might someday enjoy, if she really went through with this.
But then, Sam had always been the braver one. Beatrice was supposed to be older and wiser, yet the truth was that she looked up to Sam: her vibrant, passionate, determined little sister, who loved with her whole heart. Sam loved as easily as she breathed. Unlike Beatrice, who always held a piece of herself back, from Connor and even from Teddy.
She hadn’tmeantto; it was just the way she’d been trained. How many times had her father emphasized that this job was lonely and she needed to be self-sufficient? So Beatrice had relied on herself, and her new friendship with Louise.
In the process she’d managed to isolate Teddy, make him feel like someone who workedforher rather thanwithher.
For some ridiculous reason, Beatrice wished she could talk to Louise—the Louise she’d known before the treaty vote. She wanted the Louise who’d drawn eyeliner over her lids, taken her stargazing on the lawn of Versailles, spoken with such authority about men, and how women in power needed to stick together. That version of Louise would have understood the tension between Beatrice and Teddy, and known exactly what Beatrice should say to repair the damage.
But Beatrice realized, now, that she’d given Louise too much sway in their dynamic. She’d been so thrilled to enter Louise’s circle of friends and feel like she belonged that she hadn’t acted like the queen she should be.
Perhaps that was what prompted Beatrice to lift the hem of her gown and start up the stairs to the stage.
The band members exchanged glances, clearly unsure whether to keep playing. One by one they fell silent. Beatrice made eye contact with the cellist, who scooted back so that she could speak into his microphone.
“Hello.”
There was a screech of feedback from the mic; she winced and looked out at the crowd. Their various conversations quickly cut off; everyone was staring at her with naked curiosity, wondering how she would embarrass herself next. She saw a few blinking lights as people got out their phones and began recording. It wasn’t typical for the host monarch to give any kind of closing speech, especially not after the seated dinner, when the night was escalating into party mode.
“Hello, Your Majesties, and esteemed guests.” Beatrice felt her face curling automatically into a smile, then squashed the impulse. Who had decided that women were supposed to smile during a formal speech anyway? She would be as serious and stone-faced as any man, and let them call her names for it.
“As you may know, this was my first time at the League of Kings conference as a queen, and the experience has been…illuminating,” she said carefully. “And surprising. And, in many ways, disappointing.”
Eyebrows shot up at that remark; a few people exchanged whispers. Beatrice ignored them.
“I have always believed in the League of Kings. I believe that we can achieve what our forebears intended when they founded this institution. They wanted to combine efforts and make the world a better place, because they knew we could accomplish so much more together than any of us could as individual nations.
“I came here expecting a community of nations, yet what I have seen instead are disjointed groupings of monarchs, each of them jealously guarding what they see as their own resources, their own interests.” She thought of King LouisXXIII as she added, “I have seen people motivated by fear, sometimes to the detriment of those they love. I have seen a sense of competition and petty jealousy lurking beneath conversations, when we should be striving toward the collective good.
“The modern world is more connected than ever. To the monarchs who say that the business of other nations doesn’t concern them, I say that we are all global citizens now, and we need to act that way. We need to work together for the good of the earth and all its people, not just the people who call us their king or queen.
“I pledge to you that America, and I, remain committed to the goal our ancestors believed in over a century ago. And I hope that the next time we meet, we can all continue the good work that we started this year.”
Beatrice looked at the far wall rather than the faces in the crowd, because she didn’t want to see everyone’s disapproval or pity. She had said what she needed to say, as naïve and earnest as it might have been.
If nothing else, at least she’d ended this conference by being true to herself.
She turned toward the side of the stage, but before she could make her way down, a voice rose high and clear into the silence.
“France makes a motion that the gathered assembly hold a new vote on item thirty-one, ‘Protection of the Global Climate for Future Generations.’ ”
It was Louise, speaking with the formal language they had used during all their plenary sessions, asking for a revote on the climate accord.
Beatrice saw contrition and hope in Louise’s eyes. She was trying, in her own way, to make things right between them.
There was a rumble of shock through the room, everyone turning to one another with eager commentary.
“This is highly irregular,” Empress Mei Ling cried out. A footman sprang forward with a cordless microphone—Beatrice wondered where he’d gotten it—and the empress snatched it from his hands. “Voting cannot happen outside the general session! This is a social gathering with—with—wine!” she exclaimed. “We cannot vote!”
King Frederick reached for the microphone. Empress Mei Ling passed it to him, probably assuming that he would echo her sentiments.
“Germany seconds the motion proposed by France,” he said instead, gruffly.
“But there are people present who aren’tmonarchs!”
Before the empress could say more, the tsar stepped forward. “Russia moves that the assembly vote by show of hands rather than roll call.” He didn’t need a microphone; his voice boomed loud and confident over the gathered crowds.
“Very well.” Frederick had taken charge again, and this time, no one made a move to stop him, though Empress Mei Ling’s lips were still pursed in disapproval. “Let us begin voting on item thirty-one, ‘Protection of the Global Climate for Future Generations,’ proposed by Her Majesty QueenBeatrice of America. Of the monarchs here assembled, will all those in favor of the proposal raise their hands.”
