Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I’m getting the sense that they’re not real keen on Nathan. They can join my club.
But I don’t want them to know there’s friction between him and I. “Is that… like, are you mad at him about being here?”
“No,” Tara says firmly, over the top of Clare’s strident, “Yes!”
Tara sighs in frustration. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her, Bailey.”
“Oh, I’m the one who needs to come to her senses?” Clare scoffs. “You practically jumped into the car when you got the chance to abandon Josh.”
This sounds like a kettle that’s been brewing the entire way here. “Look, maybe we can talk about this after you’ve gotten to your rooms, and you’ve changed your clothes—”
“I didn’t abandon Josh!” Tara shouts. “He abandoned me when he decided to get involved in an assassination plot!”
Thank you! I agree silently.
“I mean, are you going to blame this ladies-in-waiting thing on Bailey, just because the king is her mate?” Tara demands.
Shhh on that maybe, I plead silently.
“No,” Clare says, icy and calm. “If she does support his choice, she’s doing the right thing. We’re supposed to be loyal to our mates.”
“King and pack, then mates,” I put in softly. They don’t acknowledge it and that’s probably for the best. I saw some epic fights when we were growing up and I still don’t want any part of one.
“So you’re saying you support Julien’s choice to try to assassinate the king?” Tara asks, and I cast a glance around at all the thrall guards in the room.
“I’m going to have to ask you to think very, very carefully before you answer that,” I warn. “I know that, of course, you would never advocate for the assassination of your king and pack leader, but I wouldn’t want someone to misunderstand you.”
“Why? Are they going to send me back to my mate where I belong.” Clare won’t be subdued by what she probably perceives as an obnoxious flex from a little sister who’s been elevated way above her station.
My heart sinks. “Is that what you want?” Out of all of us, Clare is the one I would have counted on being the most psyched about this arrangement. I could see Tara surviving without luxury, but not Clare. Unless... “Do you love Julien?”
I know the question puts her on the spot, but it’s important. If she doesn’t want to be here because of some altruistic concept of tradition and loyalty, I don’t feel terrible about making her stay. Those rules about what we should value as the females of the pack? Those are bullshit and I’m not going to respect her for clinging to them. But if she loves him... When she doesn’t answer, I feel even worse.
“Just...take us to our cells. I’m tired of this whole day.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, disheartened. “You both have the afternoon off. I know Amanda has some coronation related stuff to go over—”
“Amanda?” Clare makes a face, like she’s decided to dislike the thrall based on name alone.
Hannah steps out from behind the dais and greets my sisters warmly. “Tara. Clare. It’s been such a long time.”
“Hannah?” Tara’s defeated frown turns into a huge grin. “Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?”
“I’m your sister’s personal assistant.”
“But today, she’s going to personally assist you two with getting established in the palace,” I tell them.
“That’s right,” Amanda begins. “We’ve got wardrobes to choose, menu preferences, phones to set up, it’s going to be a long day.”
“And tomorrow is going to be longer,” I remind them. “So, tonight there’s spa time.”
Clare warms to this a little. “Which spa.”
“Well...we’re not leaving.” Because of what your husband did, I do not say.
“Royals get their massages and pedicures at their houses,” Tara explains for me.
Clare makes a noise of unimpressed understanding. “All right. Let’s get started.”
I can’t believe it’s gone this badly, this quickly. Clare walks two steps ahead of Hannah, as if she knows where they’re going. Damn, is my sister ever good at power plays. Tara hangs back, just for a second.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and hugs me tight. “I don’t know what’s going on with Clare, but thank you for trusting me.”
“Trusting you?” I ask, but Hannah calls back to ask if Tara is coming, and she scampers off. As I watch the three of them go, I realize what Tara meant. “Thank you for not thinking I had anything to do with the plot”. She’s happy to be with the pack again.
But Clare isn’t, and she’s really unhappy with Nathan. Did she want to see him dead, all along? Did she support the claim of Victor’s heir? It doesn’t matter now. I’m about to be queen. She’s not going to do anything that would endanger my life.
Right?
I glance over to the head of Nathan’s royal guard. I don’t have my own security yet—it takes longer to vet the thralls and select them than it does to organize a lavish coronation—so in the meantime, Nathan has entrusted me to his personal retinue of bodyguards. I motion the man over. He looks more like a math teacher than a security expert, with curly salt-and-pepper hair to match his salt-and-pepper mustache. He never smiles, either. Not even when I try to crack a joke.