Page 99 of Rivals

“Oh, Sam.” Margaret reached over to squeeze her hand. “Only you can answer that question.”

“I don’t want to come between Marshall and his family. They don’t approve of him dating me.”

“They don’t approve of him dating aprincess,” Margaret corrected gently.

“Well, that’s who I am. Unless—”

Unless she gave it all up.

Sam felt suddenly guilty that she’d never considered it until now. This whole time, she’d assumed that Marshall would renounce his identity, because that was what people had done for centuries when they married into the royal family. But what ifshewas the one to walk away from her life?

If she wasn’t a princess anymore, all their problems would be solved.

Aunt Margaret had said it herself: being the spare royalsibling, or the spouse of a spare sibling, wasn’t a fulfilling job. Certainly not the type of job worth sacrificing a dukedomfor.

Sam felt newly energized, slightly exhilarated, utterly terrified.

“Thank you.” Her voice was raw and throaty with emotion. “I just—I never felt like I had a lot of choice in my life, you know?”

“You always have a choice, Sam. No matter what your name is or what family you’re born into, that is the one thing you have control over—your own choices. And as important as it is to honor legacy, it can’t come at the expense of your own happiness.”

Sam nodded. History was history, wasn’t it? It was important, but only insofar as it informed the future.

And while she didn’t know what her future held, she hoped it included Marshall.

Margaret slid the remaining half of the sandwich toward her. “Here. I’ve found that while a grilled cheese won’t solve my problems for me, it makes them a bit easier to manage. Don’t you agree?”

Beatrice glanced at the mirror in the downstairs bathroom, removing a pin that had fallen loose from the nest of pins anchoring her tiara in place. She could make it through the rest of this dinner. Just a few more hours of people staring at her with naked curiosity—wondering why the vote on her climate accord had gone so wrong, and what had happened between her and Louise.

Even Beatrice didn’t know the answer to that one. Louise had been texting and calling ever since the vote this afternoon, but Beatrice had left her messages unanswered. She’d even come into the great hall before dinner—and caught Sam and Aunt Margaret sharing a grilled cheese, which brought a smile to her face—in order to switch the place cards, moving Louise to a table far from Beatrice.

At least Teddy was back from Boston. When he’d arrived a few hours before dinner, Beatrice had told him everything. He’d assured her that she shouldn’t blame herself, that it wasn’t her fault. But Beatrice was having a hard time believing that.

“Béatrice. Here you are.”

Of course,she thought dully. She should have known Louise would follow her in here.

“What do you want?”

Louise winced at her tone. “I wanted to apologize for whathappened with the climate accord. I know it meant a lot to you.” She smiled tentatively. “You should bring it up again at the next conference; this was a good way to get it on everyone’s radar, and you’ll have a much better shot the second time around.”

“I don’t want to try again next conference. I wanted it to passnow!” Beatrice realized that she sounded childish and shook her head. “Why didn’t you support me?”

“I did support you; I just couldn’t give you my vote. Politics is full of difficult choices.”

“And apparently people who go back on their word.”

“You think I didn’twantto vote for your climate accord?” Louise asked, her voice rising. “Unlike you, I am not a queen, just a lowly princess! I don’t have the luxury of always choosing how I act!”

Louise’s words echoed around the bathroom, bouncing off the shagreen wallpaper, the pair of lounge chairs that no one ever actually sat in. She stared down at her hands, studying her various antique and priceless rings as if one of them might hold the answer to all her questions.

“Remember how I spoke to my father late at night in Versailles, when he was more…himself?” she went on softly.

“Your father told you to vote against my climate accord?”

“My father told me to do a better job guarding the interests of France!” Louise burst out. “He has always scolded me for being weak and easily swayed. He says that I need to think of France first, and the rest of the world second. He was angry when he found out about you.”

“You mean, when he found out that I wasn’t actually your lady-in-waiting?” Beatrice said sarcastically, and Louise almost smiled at that.