Page 34 of Reign
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m the best judge of my own recovery,” she insisted.
“You didn’t seem recovered during that press conference. You seemed rather shaky.”
When Beatrice kept walking, Ambrose reached out to put a hand on her forearm—as if he needed to physically restrain her, or warn her. To remind her of her place.
Beatrice jerked her arm away.
“Your Majesty, it’s come to my attention that you’re under the care of Dr.Malcolm Jacobs. A specialist in cognitive and neurological trauma.”
“I was in acar accident.Of course I saw a specialist.” Beatrice’s words came out cool, though panic spiked in her blood again.
“So you’re saying you suffered no mental damage? Your mind is exactly the same as it was before the accident? Because,” he pressed, “I must remind you that you are requiredby law to inform Congress if there is something we need to know about your health. Specifically anything that prevents you from adequately performing your duties as queen. If you fail to do so,” he added, “Congress can remove you from your position.”
“Excuse me?” Beatrice felt heat creeping up her neck.
“The Constitution states in article one, section twenty-four that if the king is unfit to carry out the duties of his office, Congress can remove him from said office by a majority vote. At which point the heir apparent will—”
“I’m aware what the Constitution says. I was asking why you’re threatening me with the unfit-to-rule clause,” Beatrice interrupted.
“Threatening you?” Ambrose chuckled. “I would never do such a thing. Our families have been friends for three hundred years.” A sour expression darted across his face as he glanced back toward the Media Briefing Hall. “You know, I always hoped that Gabriella might be the one to marry your brother. Just think…an alliance between the Madisons and the Washingtons. What a powerful couple they would be.”
“It’s not the nineteenth century anymore. I think we can stop talking about royal marriages as alliances.”
“But isn’t that precisely what you and Theodore have?”
He spoke the words carelessly, as if they weren’t shockingly intrusive.
How dare you,Beatrice wanted to cry out, andIt’s none of your business,and strangest of all,It’s not like that between us.Because it was exactly like that…wasn’t it?
Why was some part of her ready to insist that she loved Teddy?
“Thank you for your concern. I’m grateful to have such adedicatedQueen’s Champion.” Beatrice nodded in the direction of the front door. “A footman can show you out.”
Ambrose’s expression darkened at the brusque dismissal.“I’ll be watching for your recovery,” he said ominously, and stormed off.
Beatrice waited until he’d disappeared around the corner before drawing in a breath. She felt like her dress was tightening around her chest, her bobby pins digging tiny claws into her skull.
“Your Majesty?”
Through monumental force of will, Beatrice rearranged her features into something resembling a smile. She was relieved to see that Anju was alone.
“The press conference went well,” Anju began, with forced cheerfulness. Beatrice didn’t bother acknowledging the lie.
“Anju. If I ask you for a favor, can you keep it confidential?”
“Everything between us is confidential, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you.” Beatrice let out a breath. “I want you to help me track someone down. A former Revere Guard of mine, actually. His name is Connor Markham.”
Anju seemed startled by the request, but nodded. “I’ll start looking right away.”
Maybe if Beatrice talked to Connor, the bewildering events of the past year would begin to make sense. Maybe then her memories—elusive, half-formed thoughts that melted away each time she reached for them—might start coming back.
“Give Jeff some time. I’m sure he’ll come around,” Marshall insisted.
Samantha nestled into Nina’s couch, pressing the phone tighter to her ear. “I don’t know, Marshall. We’ve never fought like this before.”
She wasn’t even sure iffightaccurately described what had happened between her and Jeff. She’d come home to find that her entire life had imploded, including—or, rather, especially—the relationships she’d always taken for granted.
