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The final strains of Wicker’s song come to a close, and he places his cello on the stand, rising to take his place next to me.

“That was beautiful,” I whisper, leaning in close.

“I wrote it for him,” Wick whispers back, blue eyes darting down to my mouth. Without hesitation or shyness, he captures my mouth in a slick, searching kiss.

In front of the Royalty.

In front ofmy mother.

Fatherhood has changed Whitaker Ashby in a lot of ways, but it hasn’t changed how passionately he loves.

Remy’s groan rings out. “Come on, get a room.”

Wicker pulls away with a scowl. “How about you come over here and make me?”

Remy shoots to his feet, smirking. “Maybe I will.”

“Hey!” I snap, pointing at Remy. “In your seat, right now! And you.” I give Wicker an exasperated look. “Behave.”

He sniffs, looking away. “He started it.”

Lex and I trade a glance that says the same thing.

These two are getting a little too good at being brothers, although there’s enough heat behind their words that I wouldn’t leave them alone without expecting bloodshed.

Clearing his throat, Lex steps forward, pulling the book from beneath his arm. “I’d like to say I know how to do this, that there was a book in the library that laid it all out but,” he holds up the pledge book before tossing it aside, “there isn’t one. There’s no easy way to claim a legacy.”

A row over, Killian coughs, and in the corner of my vision, I see Lavinia taking Sy’s hand.

Those are three legacies that definitely had to be fought for.

Lex continues, “My brothers and I aren’t Ashby blood, which is good, because Rufus never wanted to make us his sons. He collected us as instruments.” Pace stiffens as Lex’s gaze lands on him. “He wanted someone to be the eyes and ears on everyone and everything in Forsyth.” He looks at Wicker, his jaw tightening. “He wanted someone to sell, to trade for secrets and leverage.” Then he holds his hand to his chest. “He wanted a carver. Someone without remorse who’d hold his scalpel as he cut down his enemies.” His eyes drop to me, and then to Justice, still dozing in my arms. “And more than anything else, he wanted an heir.”

Absolutely no one can argue with that.

Lex gestures to Justice. “You all came here today to anoint the new Psi Nu Zeta leader of East End. A leader who will havethe best interests of our community at heart.” He pauses, eyes scanning the crowd with a wry tone, “Although our sonisthe most amazing baby in the world—and no, I will not be taking any questions—I think that’s something we all agree an infant can’t do.”

There’s a chorus of chuckles and I shoot him a concerned glance. We agreed that although there are some things about our Royal arrangement that are true, it wouldn’t benefit us to call attention to them here.

But then Lex raises his voice, saying, “A Queen can, though.”

I whip my gaze to him, frowning. “What are you doing?” I mouth. The audience murmurs in equal confusion. I feel Wicker’s arm slide around my waist as Lex takes a step forward, speaking both to me and the crowd at my back.

“The members of PNZ have taken a vote, and we’ve all offered our Oath of Fealty to Verity Sinclaire.” His eyes meet mine, smile spreading. “It was unanimous.”

“Over my dead bodies,” a voice calls out. I only realize it’s the Baron King when he stands, adjusting his black gloves. “Women may not take the place of a King.”

“Actually,” Wicker says, leaving my side to stand next to my brother. “There’s nothing in any of the bylaws that say anything about what’s between the person’s legs.”

From the front row, Micha gives a quiet, “Awesome.”

“It’s almost as if you forgot about women entirely,” Pace adds, shrugging. “But accidental as it may be, the language specifying heirs is largely gender neutral. Verity is Rufus Ashby’s only surviving heir.”

Lex sighs, pinning the Baron King with a fed-up stare. “You and the other Kings wanted us to choose one ruler. Take it ortake it.”

Flabbergasted, I step closer, pitching my voice humiliatingly low. “But I don’t know anything about ruling.”

Pace scoffs, waving over the crowd. “Verity Sinclaire, you’ve done more for East End in a year than Rufus Ashby did in two decades. I can’t wait to see what you do with an entire lifetime.”