Page 14 of Reign

“I know,” Sam interrupted, voice breaking. “I’m heading straight to the hospital.”

“I’ll go with you,” Nina assured her.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Nina cast one last glance toward Tudor House. If Sam wasn’t arriving until this evening, Nina could go back in thereand find James—but after hearing Sam’s voice, she felt too rattled to do anything but wait for her friend.

It had been a mistake to kiss him, anyway. She didn’t even know anythingabouthim.

“Of course I’m coming,” she told Sam. “What else are friends for?”

“Daphne?” A preteen girl detached herself from her parents and started forward.

Daphne automatically flashed a smile. “It’s lovely to meet you…” She paused, and the girl jumped to provide her name.

“Lily. Omigod, Icannotbelieve I’m meeting you in person! My friends and I areobsessedwith you.” Lily fumbled for her phone, and Daphne widened her smile, expecting the girl to request a selfie—but Lily held the screen toward Daphne.

“Look, I was you for Halloween this year!”

“I’m honored,” Daphne said slowly. She had to admit, the costume was impressive: Lily had re-created the peach-colored dress Daphne wore to the Royal Potomac Races last year, complete with the matching fascinator. And was that a knockoff signet ring on her finger?

Then Daphne blinked, registering what Lily was holding in her other hand—a deck of cards.

In case anyone didn’t recognize the costume, the cards would have explained it. Lily had gone to Halloween as the Poker Princess.

A photographer nearby cleared his throat. Acting on autopilot, Daphne angled herself and Lily toward the camera. She forced herself to keep smiling, even as anger pounded through her body.

God, she reallywasa national laughingstock, if twelve-year-old nobodies were mocking her at Halloween.

“It was lovely meeting you,” Daphne murmured before Lily could say anything else. “Enjoy the Fall Festival.”

Daphne strode across the palace’s back lawn, which had been transformed into an autumn carnival, with face-painting and bobbing for apples and a petting zoo. Waiters in crisp uniforms served apple cider and popcorn and the Washingtons’ famous cherry tarts. The guests, mostly parents with young children, were commoners, invited through a charity organization or their local mayor’s office.

Like the palace’s spring and summer garden parties, the Fall Festival was one of those “ordinary people events” so crucial to the monarchy’s survival. By opening their home to all these strangers—giving people a glimpse into the most closed-off and exclusive institution in the world—the Washingtons secured people’s love.

Normally Daphne thrived at events like this. But today the crowds were staring at her with confused disbelief, as if they didn’t understand why she was still here, and it was getting harder to keep her smile from slipping.

“Daphne!” Anju Mahali, Beatrice’s Lady Chamberlain, bustled toward her. “Have you seen His Royal Highness?”

Daphne nodded toward an empty stretch of lawn near the orchard, where Jefferson was throwing a football with a couple of elementary school boys. He looked almost too wholesometo be real, with his warm smile and perfect jawline, wearing a sweater beneath a puffy vest. The only thing missing was a golden retriever, Daphne thought, just as Beatrice’s yellow lab, Franklin, came bounding up. Jefferson ruffled the dog’s ears good-naturedly, teeing up the perfect image for the photographers without even trying.

“Your Royal Highness!” Anju called out. “May I have a word?”

When Jefferson jogged over, Daphne came to join them. Anju shot her a look but clearly decided it wasn’t worth protesting.

“Your sister is on her way.”

For a wild moment, Daphne thought Anju was talking about Beatrice. But Jefferson understood at once.

“Sam is back?”

“Air traffic control just called. She’s on a private plane, scheduled to land in several hours.”

Daphne watched the storm of emotions that played out on Jefferson’s features, relief giving way to hurt and something that might have been resentment. He turned and started briskly toward the palace. “Can we keep it from the media?”

“So far, yes.”

They were all crossing the lawn with quick steps, nodding distractedly at everyone who bowed or curtsied or waved shyly as they passed. An aura of royalty seemed to set them apart, circling them like a halo.