Page 88 of Reign

Sam stood, struck by a sudden idea. She headed to the bookshelves with new purpose and scanned the spines.

“Sam?” Beatrice asked, but Sam knew exactly what she was looking for.

“Here it is!” She reached for a volume labeledKing Benjamin: A Royal Lifeand handed it triumphantly to Beatrice. “Promise me you’ll read this.”

“The whole thing?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “If you must, you can skip to the second half, after Benjamin has his riding accident.”

“Riding accident?”

“He fell from his horse at age forty-five, trying to jump a fence, and suffered a serious head wound. Queen Tatiana effectively ruled America for months, though Congress never actually named her as Regent. She told everyone she was just acting as her husband’s ‘secretary,’ dictating responses from his sickbed, but she was totally pulling the strings,” Sam explained. “You could say that she was America’s first ruling queen during that time.”

Beatrice blinked. “Why have I never heard this story?”

“Even back then, the palace PR team was a well-oiled machine. They kept it all very hidden,” Sam told her. “And of course, most people didn’t believe Tatiana was doing anything, because it was inconceivable to them that a woman could rule.”Plenty of people still think that,Sam almost added, but Beatrice knew that better than anyone.

“What happened to Benjamin?” her sister asked.

Sam tapped the book’s cover. “You’ll see when you read.”

“I hate when you give me homework. You’re as relentless as Dad,” Beatrice replied, but she was smiling.

Then her smile faded as she asked, “Sam, what’s going on with you and Marshall?” She added hastily, “You don’t have to talk about it, of course. I’m just worried about you.”

Sam let out a shaky breath. “Marshall is still in…he’s far away.”

Haltingly, she tried to explain—that she missed him so much, and worried she was being selfish by staying in the capital, yet she couldn’t leave.

“It’s not selfish of you to stay,” Beatrice assured her.

“I know.” You had to pour some of yourself into a relationship, but you couldn’t give awayallof you. And Marshall hadn’t asked her to.

“Maybe you just need time and space to figure out what you want, and how Marshall fits into it.”

“That was very wise. Right nowyou’rethe one acting like Dad,” Sam declared, and stood. It was time to go face everyone again. “Should we head back?”

The Washingtons were all still gathered in the living room. Per family tradition, each person would open a single Christmas present before dinner—and from the look of things, Sam’s cousins Annabel and Percy had lost patience. Wrapping paper and ribbons were scattered around them like the carnage of war.

Sam’s heart leapt when she saw that Jeff was sitting on the couch, her present in his lap.

He tore back the wrapping paper, which was printed with tiny cartoon reindeer. “A floating tennis set,” he realized aloud.

Daphne was sitting next to him; she reached for the box quizzically. “What fun. And is this a bag of…balloons?”

She looked utterly lost, but Sam saw the understanding on Jeff’s face. He looked up and met Sam’s gaze with the hint of a smile. “For water-balloon tennis?”

“I figured you’re a little rusty.”

Sam held her breath, and was relieved when Jeff teased her right back.

“Not as rusty as you. Could be a good game for Telluride, as long as we keep the pool warm.”

“A punishment for whoever is the last to make it to the Prospect lift?”

Jeff grinned. And there it was again, a flicker of their old twin connection. Turned out it wasn’t broken after all.

Everyone stood to head into the dining room, and Jeff fell into step alongside her. “So, I saw the video of you bargain shopping. You were awesome.”