Page 125 of The Unlikely Heir

“The investiture is looking like a very risky move by the monarchy,” Rosalia says. “There’s considerable backlash building in Wales against the ceremony.”

“The protesters have got a point. It’s continuing a tradition that began as a means to humiliate the Welsh,” Alfred says.

“And it’s coming at a time when a historically high number of the public are questioning whether we still need a royal family,” Rosalia says.

“What are the numbers?” I ask.

“Latest poll has only forty-five percent of the country supporting the monarchy,” Toby says.

I wince.

“The crown is continuing to insist that the investiture is an important symbolic event showing Prince Callum as the future of the monarchy,” I say.

“We’ve got to support the palace on this. If the police are asking for more funds for security, we can’t really refuse, can we?” Alfred says. “We don’t want anything to happen to a member of the royal family on our watch.”

“Where is the threat coming from? Welsh nationalists?” Cornelia asks.

“There are the usual rumblings from those quarters. But there’s also information filtering through the intelligence network of a specific threat against the Prince of Wales,” Rosalia says.

My blood runs cold.

Before I know it, my mouth is open, and I speak. “What the fuck are they doing about it? If Scotland Yard thinks there are credible threats to him, hunt them down and take the bastards out! Treason legislation has been around since the 1300s. Use it!”

Fuck. I’m breathing heavily, my whole body tense.

And this is another reason why being with Callum is such a bad idea. I can’t think rationally in these types of situations.

Silence falls over the table, and I’m aware many of my ministers are staring at me in shock. Cornelia’s mouth has dropped open and Alfred’s eyebrows have shot up to his hairline.

I run my hand over my face.

“From what I understand, they are trying to keep the network intact until they can work out where the threat is coming from,” Rosalia says calmly.

“Make sure they’re all over this.” I try to keep my voice from wavering. “As Alfred said, it won’t be a good look if something happens to a member of the royal family on our watch. No matter what the public sentiment is at the moment.”

Rosalia nods, and thankfully the conversation moves on to other matters.

After another hour of headache-inducing discussions, the cabinet ministers file out of the room.

Eventually, it’s only Toby and me left at the table.

He’s looking at me with an expression full of questions.

“What the hell was that outburst earlier? I didn’t know you felt so passionately about security for the royal family.”

I can’t lie to him. Not about this.

“It’s personal to me,” I say.

His forehead rumples. “It’s personal to you? How the hell is it personal to you?”

“Callum Prescott’s security is personal to me,” I say quietly.

Toby is a smart person. And I see the exact moment he connects the two conversations we’ve had this morning.

The smile drops off his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” His voice is steeped in disbelief. “Prince Callum is your mystery man? You’re telling me you’re fucking the future king of England?”

I nod. It’s a quick nod, but it’s definitely an affirmative gesture.