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Story: Royally Arranged
Blazing heat traveled over my skin. My adrenaline was washed away by panic, Larchmont’s words from earlier echoing in my head:Why did they ever choose someone like you?
“And why the hell,” I asked cautiously, “would I ever want to sit on the throne?”
“Because it’s the only choice you’ve got.” It was the first time Richard had spoken out loud—and I wished he’d remained a damn mute. “It’s what was decided,” he said firmly.
To my horror, my father hung his head. “You’re joking,” I whispered. “Where the hell is this coming from?”
“No one else can do this,” Maverick said quickly. “Costello has his woman. Kain is already married, like me.”
Rules of succession.“Wait, slow the hell down.” I was dizzy, and when I pressed my palm to my temple, everything resonated viciously. “‘Already married’? You expect me tomarrysomeone?”
“It’s the path to peace with the Valentines,” my father said. “A way to bring hope to this country. The only one eligible to wear the crown ... is you, son.”
He’s asking me to become the king.I eyeballed him, then the others. Richard looked somber; Larchmont had gone back to scowling.That’s why Larch was so pissed at me.I glanced at the church.He’s jealous he can’t take the crown. He thinks I’m lucky this is happening to me. They were all discussing this behind my back.
Nova was wide-eyed but not surprised.
Everyone knew.
Her hands were clasped over her lips.
Lips I’d kissed.
She knew.
I wiped the blood off my mouth and stormed off.
- CHAPTER EIGHT -
HAWTHORNE
I walked through the church, ignoring my mother as she called out to me. Aware of all the eyes but not giving them the satisfaction of my attention.
How could this happen?
I asked myself that a hundred times as I exited the building, marching down the long stairs out front. More eyes burned on me in the open and I zoned those out, too. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I didn’t care.
In minutes they planned my life out behind my damn back,I thought angrily.They did it without asking my input.
“Thorne! Wait!” I felt Nova’s presence as she drew closer.
I continued walking, my strides getting faster.
“I’m not going to stop following you,” she said. “Please, just slow down and talk to me.”
Cars zoomed by on the busy street, forcing me to stop if I didn’t want to take several tons of metal to my organs. The knuckles on my right hand were throbbing, reminding me of the fight. My jaw ached as well—I could still taste my own blood.
“Thorne,” she said, softer that time.
I looked at her over my shoulder. “You should leave. Why would you want to hang out with aviolent foollike me?”
“I don’t think of you like that,” she said.
“You shouldn’t think of me at all.” That made her step back—a small movement, but I saw it. Behind her I spotted two people perched on the top step of the church. Even at a distance I could make out the severe, angular silhouettes of her parents. I gestured at them. “You’ve got people waiting for you. Go do some more talking about me with them. Plan more of my life.”
The wind tugged at the veil pinned in her hair; she grabbed it, clutching it fiercely, like she needed to holdsomething. “For the record, I didn’t realize you had no idea this was going to happen. When you said yesterday that you didn’t make the laws and had no plan to, I thought you were being coy.” With a wishful, sympathetic look at me, she reached out to brush her fingers over my forearm. I felt her nails through the fabric. “And I can’t help but think about you. It’s just like you said earlier. You’ve been in my head since we first met.”
The thick, curdled anger in my blood smoothed away. Even after I’d been picturing her hiding in the shadows, plotting with her family and mine about setting me on the throne, her admission was so damn enticing.
Table of Contents
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