Playing Dirty(150)

“Nonsense!”

“One day that’ll be you.”

“I’ll happily take the Kingdom,” Michael said. “That’s what matters. That’s what makes a person matter.”

“What makes a person matter is how they are, not who they are.” The sentiment was my mother’s, but it had never meant more to me than it did now. I laughed again as I realized that in not wanting the crown, I’d become so much more worthy of it, because I’d realized how little it mattered when held up next to the people whom it symbolically represented.

“You think the crown matters? You think we matter? We don’t! We’re just…we got lucky,” I continued. “I don’t want any part of this crown if it’s going to ruin Keira’s life, or our baby’s life. I don’t want any part of it at all. It’s toxic. I want out. I came here to speak to Mother, to tell her that I would give up my birthright if I had to, because that’s how much I want to be with Keira. Now? I’m giving it up either way. I don’t want it. I don’t want to be King, I don’t want to be royal, and I don’t want to be any part of this hateful tradition; this classist bullshit that looks down on decent people and drags down its own!”

“Is that right?”

For a single, stupid moment, I wondered how my brother had spoken without moving his lips and how he’d made his voice change. Then the more likely explanation dawned on me, and I turned to see our mother, standing in the open doorway to her office.

“The walls of this castle are extremely thick, built to withstand cannon-fire I believe, but they are not quite thick enough to soundproof them against the raised voices of idiots.”

“Sorry, Mother,” Michael said.

“It doesn’t sound like you should be the one apologizing.” Her eyes turned to me, one eyebrow raised in question.

Shit. Had I meant to say all that? I’d gone far beyond what I’d wanted to say, and what I’d planned to say—but did that mean it was untrue? I’d never really felt royal. I’d enjoyed the privilege because a person would have to be an imbecile not to, and I’d enjoyed the opportunities that my birth had given me. But the stuff I’d enjoyed was the stuff I wasn’t meant to be doing. The stuff I was supposed to be doing was the stuff that I spent my life avoiding, and I didn’t enjoy being royal; I simply enjoyed the easy life that being royal afforded me.

How could such a person be cut out to be King?

My brother had done everything right. He’d done his duty and picked up the slack for me, and it had turned him into a bitter and hate-filled individual. Perhaps I took some of the blame for that, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Look at what being Queen had done for my mother; she was a hugely intelligent woman with opinions of her own that she was most often unable to express because protocol forbade it. What could she have been, what contribution could she have made to the world, if she had renounced her birthright?

“Is everything I just heard true? Did you really get Keira pregnant with a bastard child?” my mother said when I hadn’t responded yet. Her eyes were cold, and her tone was even colder.

“The fact that you just called my unborn child a bastard pretty much makes up my mind about what I need to do next,” I finally said. “The final straw, if you will.”

I’d been prepared to take this step as a last resort if my mother tried to say that she would never approve of my desire to marry Keira. Now it seemed like a last resort of a different kind.

“I renounce my claim to the throne. Also, I’m marrying Keira. I just proposed to her a few minutes ago,” I continued. “Have fun being King one day, Michael, and goodbye to the both of you.”

Without waiting for any response, I turned on my heel and strode out.





Chapter 24

Keira



“I can’t let you do this.”

They were the first words out of my mouth when Andrew filled me in on what had happened with Michael and his mother. I couldn’t believe the sacrifice he’d made for me and our unborn child; couldn’t believe he’d given up his birthright and place in line to the throne, all for the sake of our soon-to-be family.

He really had changed, and while he’d become an amazing man, I still felt incredibly guilty that he’d given up so much for me.

“Are you disappointed that we won’t be living in a castle?” he asked. “That I’m not rich anymore?”

“No, of course not!”

“Didn’t think so. So what’s this ‘I can’t let you’ stuff, then?”

“Well…” I began to speak but got no further. I knew he’d done what he’d done for a good reason, but I still felt awful. I felt responsible for tearing him away from his family, although to be fair, they’d done a lot of that tearing themselves.