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CHAPTER 36

LIZZY

CORONATION CONUNDRUM.

Once Lambert’s public persona was fully rehabilitated and he had the hang of managing it himself, there was less for me to do on that front. I returned to the office of the guard, happy to see Stephanie Long taking Neel’s place. She was levelheaded, intelligent, and someone I was sure the realm could trust.

Declan and I spent time together, getting to know each other in our home country as the people we were born to be. But there was a layer of uncertainty between us. I would be sent off soon on a new assignment—though Neel’s mission to Luxembourg turned out to be only a ploy to keep me out of his way as he continued to foment anti-monarchist sentiment. It didn’t matter anyway, since soon, Declan would become king. There had been no indication that the plan had changed despite Lambert’s excellent new image.

At the Queen’s insistence, Declan went to his royal fittings, taking Lambert for moral support. I supposed that was the kind of thing men needed when they had to try on clothes for hours at a time. More importantly, I took it as confirmation that Declan intended to ascend the throne.

It was the one thing we didn’t talk about. That and our true feelings, but those two topics were so interwoven, we couldn’t touch on one without the other coming up. I guessed we were both living in denial, delaying the inevitable.

My feelings for him didn’t change. They only deepened.

"And until you tell him how you feel, you’ll never be able to say that you really tried," my mother told me repeatedly. “You must be brave.”

The thing was, I was brave. I was brave in the face of real, actual, physical danger.

So why was I so scared to tell Declan how I felt about him and what I really wanted?

“The calendar looks incredible,” Joey told me when we talked later that night. I’d asked Declan for some time, and was lounging on my bed in my old room, my mother in the den watching television.

“I’m so glad,” I told her. I really was. Even if my PR assignment had been fake, it mattered to me that the players I’d come to admire got what they were looking for out of the effort.

“Honestly, these photos are so hot,” Joey gushed. “I’m emailing you the PDF, okay? You’ll die.”

“And is it selling?”

“Like hotcakes,” she confirmed.

“And how’s Wilma?”

Joey chuckled. “Well, it turns out, wombats are quite the handful. Luckily, this one is already pretty domesticated, though John isn’t thrilled when he gets into his hockey gear.”

“So, are you and Prince Declan spending a lot of time together?” I’d told Joey the whole truth earlier in the conversation when she’d mentioned Declan’s absence from the team. It didn’t feel right to keep the secret, and there was little chance the rest of the team wouldn’t find out soon enough. For now, I had asked her to keep it quiet.

“We are,” I admitted. “But I can’t pretend I see a future for us.”

“What? Why not? I would think discovering you share a homeland and a past crush would have cemented things!”

“There’s the little detail of him being royalty. And my being from the serving class,” I reminded her.

“It’s not the Dark Ages,” she laughed. “Does that even matter?”

I didn’t know. “It might. To his family. Maybe to him, though he hasn’t admitted it.”

“Lizzy, that’s ridiculous,” Joey said, sounding angry on my behalf. “You’re an amazing person—what difference does it make if your family is royalty? Or noble or whatever?”

I sighed. “It’s just… it’s tradition. It’s hundreds of years of things being done a certain way,” I told her. “For all I know, Declan’s parents have someone in mind for him already.”

“Well do they?”

“I don’t know.” Declan had never mentioned it if they did. Maybe he didn’t know?

“I think you should go for it. You guys are perfect together, regardless of class or station or whatever. This isn’t Downton Abbey, Lizzy.”

But it was pretty darned close.

To the great surprise of most of those in the kingdom, a coronation date was announced. As it was only two days away, the kingdom became a ruckus of preparation and speculation.

I’d stayed with Mom, letting Declan spend time with his family in the lead up to taking his position. He would become king, and I thought I would probably ask Stephanie for an assignment as far away from Murdan as I could get. I could think of no better way to forget that I hadn’t gotten what I wanted than to escape.

But my mother’s words, and Joey’s rang in my ears. I needed to at least tell him how I felt. Then I’d know we really didn’t have a chance. If I didn’t try, I’d always wonder.

When I texted Declan to ask if he could meet me, he agreed, and he was at my door fifteen minutes later.

“Walk a bit?” I suggested, and he smiled, taking my hand in his.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, leaning in and nuzzling my ear, sending a wave of warmth through me.

“I wanted to give you some space. I know there’s a lot going on.”

He squeezed my hand, and we headed for the beach. Declan and I walked hand in hand along the shore, the waves creating a rolling soundtrack to accompany my racing heart. We talked about everything and nothing, but the one thing I really needed to say remained unsaid.

"Declan," I finally said, mustering the courage to tell him once and for all how I felt. He turned to face me, that wide smile in place—the one I loved so much. Declan had seemed happy here, though I knew he missed playing hockey.

"I was hoping we could talk a little bit," I said, hesitating as I faced him, the ocean painting a brilliant blue backdrop behind us.

Declan squeezed my hand and laughed. "Lizzy, we’ve been talking since we got here. I think you know everything there is to know about me by now."

"Right," I said. "But I guess I was hoping we could talk about what happens next."

"The coronation, you mean," Declan said, nodding.

"Right. And other things."

I was about to just lay it out there when Lambert trotted up, red-faced and breathing hard, as if he’d sprinted to find us. “Deck, you need to come home. It’s about Dad."

Declan looked at me, worry etched in every line of his face.

"This can wait," I told him.

Declan and Lambert dashed off across the sand, leaving me to contemplate the words I had been about to say.

I texted Declan later that night, asking if everything was okay.

He responded with:

Yes, everything is great. I’ll update you as soon as I can — Mom wants to spend some time as a family, but all is well.

It didn’t tell me what I wanted to know at all, but it sounded like the king was okay. For the moment, at least.

The day of the coronation arrived.

I found I didn’t want to go. But I had to.

I had been appointed to stand with the queen and king, keeping an eye on the crowd. For me, that was a little closer than I wanted to be to watching the man I loved take on a responsibility that would mean we could likely never be what I wanted us to be. I hadn’t found a chance to speak to him, and he hadn’t sought me out. Preparations for the coronation had been all-consuming, even in the Guards’ office.

That morning, I worked with the other agents to double-check the security of the enormous hall where the coronation would be held. Given that it was inside the palace proper, security had been tight to begin with, but it was doubly so for this momentous event.

The people of Murdan had been told little beyond the fact that King Erik planned to abdicate the throne and that one of his sons would be taking his place. In recent years, the assumption had been that Lambert would be crowned, but with Declan’s reappearance, there was quite a bit of whispered discussion about who Murdan’s next ruler would be.

My heart was heavy as I checked aisles and seats, ensuring that everything was as it should be.

At the appointed hour, the coronation hall was completely full of citizens, with more clustered in the streets outside the palace gates. Murdan guards and soldiers lined the sides of the great hall, standing at attention in their ceremonial uniforms. Their polished swords gleamed under the golden light cast by the immense chandeliers. At the front of the enormous hall stood a raised platform, upon which sat two thrones—rightfully fit for a king and queen.

I met the royals as they entered from a side door into the small chamber at the back of the hall. When the trumpets began to play the Murdan anthem, I walked behind the king and queen, keeping my eyes on the crowd to ensure their safety. Hand in hand, King Erik and Queen Penelope strode confidently—but slowly—toward the front of the hall. The anthem swelled, the banners overhead swaying gently from the high rafters. The rich, deep blue of Murdan’s flag, embroidered with gold, filled every corner of my vision.

At the front of the hall, King Erik turned slowly, his queen on his arm, and they took their places on the throne. The crowd quieted in reverence.

Before the king spoke, both of his sons followed their mother and father up the aisle, their own security detail at their sides. Each was dressed in ceremonial garb, flowing robes draped over their shoulders, the weight of tradition resting heavily on them both. Declan looked more handsome than I had ever seen him. And more… kingly. Untouchable.

When Declan and Lambert reached the front, they flanked their parents and turned to face the gathered citizens. King Erik rose from his seat as one of his guards placed a microphone before him.

“Citizens of Murdan,” he called out, his voice steady and strong. “It is with great joy that I address you today, on this day of coronation for a new king.”

A hush fell over the room.

“It has been my greatest joy to serve as guardian of this country and its people. The people of Murdan are faithful, strong, and loyal, and I could have asked for no better life than the one I have led. That said, I would like the opportunity to enjoy my family. I see no real reason why a monarch must remain so until their demise. Especially when a capable heir stands ready to take on the duty. So today, I am pleased to pass the crown and scepter to my very capable son.”

He looked between his sons, smiling. They each smiled back at him, standing tall before their father.

"Declan, your time here in Murdan has not been as long-lived as your brother’s, but the years you spent away have given you a broader understanding of the world at large. I am proud of you, as is your mother, as is your country. That is why I ask you today to accept an important responsibility to your kingdom."

Declan stepped forward, meeting his father’s gaze before dropping to one knee. The entire hall held its breath and I felt sick as the man I loved prepared to be elevated far above a station where we might be together.

King Erik lifted the royal scepter and touched it gently to Declan’s shoulders before bidding him rise.

“Declan Sinclair MacArthur, I declare you…”

The title that followed was one I had not expected.

“…Prince Regent of Murdan.”

I let out a slow breath, trying to steady my heart. I did not understand what was happening. Prince Regent? What did that mean? I understood both words, but I’d been expecting to hear king. My body trembled as Declan rose and stepped back to his mother’s side.

"Lambert Edward MacArthur, please step forward."

A ripple of hushed whispers moved through the hall.

Lambert took Declan’s place before their father, dropping to one knee and bowing his head.

King Erik lifted the scepter once more, touching Lambert on both shoulders, but this time he paused, inclining his own head. Beside him, Queen Penelope removed the soaring golden crown from her husband’s head, carrying it gingerly to their eldest son. With steady hands, she placed it upon Lambert’s brow.

“Lambert,” King Erik said, his voice rich with emotion, “I anoint you ruler of Murdan, king of the realm, protector of the people. Do you accept this grave responsibility?”

My heart stuttered into an unfamiliar rhythm. Declan was not going to be king?

Lambert lifted his chin, his voice clear as he repeated the oath read out to him by his father. He accepted a kiss on the cheek from his mother, then stood as one of the attendants draped him with the gold and white robe that had belonged to his father before him. King Erik placed the royal scepter into Lambert’s waiting hands.

Lambert turned to face the people of Murdan, standing before them now as their ruler. The king stepped back, lifting his arms in presentation.

“My people,” he said, his voice ringing out across the hall, “I present to you, for the first time—King Lambert of Murdan.”

The hall erupted. Cheers and applause thundered through the space. Confetti rained down from above, tossed into the air by the seated guests. Music swelled once again, the triumphant melody filling every corner of the grand hall.

I stood frozen, my mind reeling. I wanted to run to Declan, to ask what had changed, to ask if this meant we might have a future.

But he was busy with his family, surrounded by congratulations and celebration.

There would be a party that night, and I knew Declan would have responsibilities there.

But I hoped, somehow, that there would be a moment for just the two of us.