Page 124
Story: Princes of Legacy
“A solution,” Pace says, eyes rolling. “So get over it and get on with it.”
Sy shakes his head, mouth pressed into a tense line. “The Baron King will never accept it.”
“We’re taking his advice,” Wicker cuts in, glaring at Sy, “and leading our fucking kingdom. Hell, we just added another King to his crypt.”
Killian rubs his forehead, looking worn. “Do you not think I’d want to rule South Side with my brothers as equals?” He gestures to Sy. “Don’t you think Perilini would rather share his kingship with a legit Bruin and a Maddox? There’s a reason we choose one leader, and it’s big enough that people like us sacrifice the hope of ruling alongside the people we care about.”
“Simon.” I hold Sy’s gaze beseechingly. “We all know Nick and Remy rule alongside you in all but name. I’m sure it’s the same for South Side.”
Sy nods. “That might be true, but the name means something, Ver. It’s a target I’d never put on my brothers’ backs,and I’d never ask DKS to put their necks out there three times more than they already do in order to protect them.”
There’s a long beat of quiet where the only sound is Killian’s gold pen tapping on the tabletop. Finally, he holds up a hand, jaw tight. “Let’s just shelve this until the Baron King can be here to have a say.”
I deflate, disappointed but unsurprised. “In that case, we can skip to the next topic we called this meeting for. The Barons’ vote won’t be necessary. It’s a matter of the contract between East and West.”
Sy frowns. “Your contract?”
“My contract was with the Princes,” I correct, “and that’s already been dissolved.”
Understanding dawns on Sy’s face. “You want us to dissolve ours.”
“Verity can come and go as she pleases,” Pace offers, laying a stack of papers on the table. “There’s no reason to bind her to East or West—but,” he adds, “if and when she goes to West End, she may not come alone. We need your assurance we’ll be welcome as her escort.”
Sy scratches his head. “Are you sure?” he asks, looking at me. “We’ve fully moved out of the tower and into the apartment, but there’s still room for you there. Or we can find another location to?—”
“No, thanks.” I give him a gentle smile. “If I’m going to build a life for me and my son, I need to choose somewhere to do it. West End will always be home. I have roots there. But East End…” I glance behind me, meeting Lex’s gaze. “It’s where our presence as a Royal unit can do the most good. Not just for our family, but for Forsyth.”
“You’re really serious about this,” Killian realizes, glancing between the four of us.
It’s Wick who answers, “Verity may have held the knife, but we all killed Rufus Ashby. We didn’t do it impulsively. We spent months building a plan, and we’re committed to seeing it through.”
Sy exhales, sliding the stack of papers closer. “Well, if it’s what you want.” He pales, eyes jerking up. “Oh, your mother is going to lose her shit.”
I laugh, feeling Pace’s fingers combing idly through my hair. “Who do you think gave me the idea? Don’t worry, all of us are firmly required to attend as many family dinners as possible. But,” I nod at the papers, “without contracts.”
Sighing, he holds up the paper, ripping it in half. “Your call, Princess.”
“See,” Killian says, gesturing to the torn paper. “If the Baron King had done that with his contract, he might actually be here today.”
Frowning, I wonder, “What do you mean?”
Sy folds his arms, his eyebrows doing that serious crouching thing yet again. “Let’s just say… if what Remy says is true, we should all be expecting an invitation in the mail soon.”
Wicker’s eyes narrow. “An invitation for what?”
Killian kicks back in his seat, head cocked. “A black wedding.”
“The first black wedding in four decades,” Sy adds.
“What’s a black wedding?” I ask, feeling confused.
“An arranged marriage between a Baron and Baroness,” Sy explains. “Mom told us about it when we were kids. Apparently, there are times when a contract is signed between two families, agreeing for a Baron to take a formal bride. I thought it was an urban legend because she said it’s always held on Halloween and everyone wears all black and masks,” he shrugs his massive shoulders, “but apparently not.” He smirks at Verity. “I guess it’ll be your first official event.”
“I’ve had my fill of Barons lately,” Wicker says, squeezing my shoulder. “I think we’ll pass.”
“You’ll be there,” Killian says, rising from his seat in an indication that the meeting is officially over, “just like the rest of us. You think killing a King gives you power, but the truth is, all it gives you are obligations.” He tilts his head at me. “Congratulations, Princess. Welcome to the club.”
It’sinteresting to see the palace grounds transform with a new season. I’ve seen the crisp, dry decay of winter in its wilted vines and rattling branches. I’ve observed its springtime yawn of budding flowers and thawing fountains, an explosion of color across the courtyard and alongside the palace’s exterior walls. I know all too well the lush green of its wet summer, the screams of cicadas, and the enchanting, speckled glow of its fireflies.
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