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“You can say that again,” the show’s correspondent agreed fervently.

“Can you give us a rundown on who’s showed up so far?”

“Sure can do.”

“There’s the newly formed Greek Coalition, made up by Stavros Manolis, Kyrillos Gazis, Damen Leventis, Ioniko Vlahos, Acheron Simonides, and Mykolas Sallis. I heard from very good authority that this extremely powerful group of businessmen has stated they’d be withdrawing their support for the Ramilian government if the council votes for the Emir Sheikh’s abdication.”

“What about Contini?”

“Queen Wilhemina has sent none other than her most trusted envoy himself.”

A split screen followed, showing photos of a ridiculously attractive couple, both of them tall, blond, and blue-eyed, and their names –Willem de Konigh and his fiancée Serenity Raleigh– flashing below it.

The female program host sighed. “Those two look too good to be true.”

“A whole other contingency of de Konighs is also here, and luckily for Ramil’s single population, many of them remain eligible.”

“Who else is there?”

“We caught a glimpse ofThe Pussketeers.”

“Any word on their stand?”

“Firmly on the Emir Sheikh’s side. For those who don’t know, all of Constantijin Kastein’s news companies have published articles sharing the accomplishments of the Emir Sheikh, and he paid for all of it out of pocket. These news editions have been freely distributed in all the hotels owned by Staffan Aehrenthal and the ducal properties of Rathe Wellesley.”

“Impressive!”

“That’s not all of it. Staffan’s wife, Sapphire, was also accompanied by the whole March clan. Her father Senator March, her mother – the Beaufort heiress – and of course, Steel and Silver March.”

“That is one serious show of support for the Emir Sheikh.”

“Understatement of the year,” the correspondent said with a chuckle. “And let’s not forget the otherBeasts.”

“Did they all come?”

“Everyone and their plus ones are accounted for. Even Russia sends its love. The Russian Beast came with his whole family in tow – Fyodor, Misha, Vassi, Seri Devereux, and of course Sergei’s wife and infant daughter.”

“All things considering, I don’t see how the Emir Sheikh can possibly lose.”

Harper snorted at the TV host’s statement, muttering, “The only reason she can say that is because she doesn’t know how many idiots make up the council.”

Silence.

And the queen belatedly remembered she wasn’t actually alone but in the throne room, where all of her husband’s supporters had gathered to watch the televised results of the election.

Oh shit.

But this, too, slipped past her lips, and laughter rang out in the throne room.

Harper pretended not to notice her court tutor glaring at her. She was so dead.

From the other throne, the sheikh bent close, saying solemnly, “I will plead your case to your court tutor if you wish.”

“No, thanks.” Knowing him, he would just dig a bigger grave for her.

The sheikh took hold of her hand and frowned at how cold it was to touch. “You are afraid of the results?”

She avoided his gaze, mumbling, “I don’t want you to stop being king because of me.”