Page 27

CHAPTER 27

TRISTAN

My whole body aches in ways I never imagined. Then again, I’ve never been so close to a bomb going off, it’s never knocked me off my feet.

I’m tired but wired. My hands are shaking with the adrenaline dump after what’s happened to Parker and me over the last few hours. When I knew it was my turn to take over this monarchy, I never imagined any of this. Never thought I would be the person making these decisions. Never imagined someone would come after us like this. After all, to my knowledge, they hadn’t the entire time I’ve been alive, but my dad could have kept things from me. I’m learning he more than likely did.

We’re sitting in a hospital room, doctors standing in front of us as they look over our bodies. I’m aching, and I know there’s a chance I broke some ribs, but all I want is to talk to Parker. This attempt on my life—because that’s what it is—has pissed me the fuck off. “I’m ready to bury them.” I grimace as the doctor wraps my ribs. “They wanted me dead, and they were going to get it any way they could. Didn’t matter who they hurt.”

The doctor speaks. “You didn’t break anything, Your Majesty, but you’re going to be feeling it for a while. I’ll be giving you some pain medicine.”

“No.” I stop him. “I don’t want it. My mind needs to be clear for the decisions I have to make.”

He looks as if he wants to argue. “Let me give you something, please.”

“Over the counter will be fine. It’s important I’m clear when I go before Parliament and tell them what I want to do. When all this is over, I’ll spend the time to rest that I need. I promise.”

“It goes against everything I believe and all the oaths I took, but if that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll do.”

I set my jaw and nod. Opening my hand and thrusting it toward him, I wait until he puts a few Tylenol in my palm. What I wouldn’t give for a pain pill right now, but if I’m going to possibly decimate another country, I have to be cognizant of it. Dry swallowing isn’t my favorite thing to do, but sometimes it’s a necessity.

Parker looks at me, tilting his head to the side. He walks slowly over to where I’m sitting, grimacing as he wraps his hand around his side. “Are you sure you don’t want to hold a vote?”

I shake my head. There’s no way I can take a vote and protect my cabinet at the same time. “No. Just in case this goes bad, I do not want other members of the Parliament to be able to say that they voted for this. I want them to have a lot of plausible deniability. And then we’ll see if I get overthrown if it goes bad.”

My stomach hurts. I’m not sure what I should actually be thinking. How nervous I should be. But I am inconsolable. All I can think about is if this goes wrong. What is going to happen to our country? What will happen to Amelia? Chances are, if I’ve made the wrong decision, I’m not going to make it through this night or the next few days. And it terrifies me to leave her.

But my hand has been forced by people who do not care for this country, who do not care for me, and who don’t give a shit about human life. All of that has been blatantly pushed to the forefront. So now I’m making a decision that’s difficult, that no one wants to make, and that I will stand by until the end of time.

Now that we’ve been cleared, we leave the hospital and hop into an armored car. It’s unnerving riding in traffic. It’s as if we’re on display and unsafe. Before, I never felt unsafe, even in the middle of the war. My hands are shaking, and I’m sweating, but I refuse to say anything to Parker.

It seems like the longest ride, but eventually we pull into the underground parking lot.

Within minutes, we’re out of the SUV and heading to the conference room. Once we get there, I see that others have been called in.

Glancing around the room at the few trusted people who have been allowed to stand with, to sit with me, I take it all in. Notice members of Parliament that I’ve appointed, that my father appointed before me. I see the worry in their eyes. The way they don’t know if this is right. I take that and push it into myself and realize that this is something that’s going to change the rest of our lives. But if I don’t make this decision, we’re not going to have lives to live.

And that is the scariest part of all.

I look over to the head of our military force and give him a nod.

“Send the bombs.”

And we’ll deal with the fallout later.

I watch on screens that relay live camera feed with my arms folded across my chest. We aren’t bombing the entire country—just the military and the royal family. And I brace myself for the pushback and possible retaliation.

But I refuse to sit back and do nothing anymore.

They wanted us, and now they got it.