Royally Matched(77)

“Henry.”

I didn’t hear my grandmother come in. She stands beside my chair, gazing at me, not with anger or disappointment in her stormy gray eyes—but something else. Concern, maybe. Curiosity?

“We must discuss what went on here. What have you done, my boy?”

I give her the truth. Without deflection or excuse.

“I’ve made a mess of things, Granny. But . . . I’m not going to do that anymore.”

She regards me for several moments and then softly says, “All right.”

“I’m marrying Lady Sarah Mirabelle Zinnia Von Titebottum.”

The words come out quiet and true. The earth is round. The sky is blue. I’m marrying Sarah.

She doesn’t know it yet, but . . . one step at a time.

“From what I know of her, she’s a bit shy, but we can work on that. She’s a lovely girl.”

“Yes, she is.” I look back toward the fire. “She was a virgin when she met me. She’s not anymore.”

My grandmother folds her hands at her waist. “I see. There are ways to get around that part of the law. A physician’s sworn statement should do it.”

My voice is soft but steady. “I don’t want to get around it. I want to change the law. We won’t marry until it’s done.”

“But why does it matter?”

“It matters to Sarah . . . so it matters to me. And when I put Mum’s ring on her finger, I want the world to know it’s because I’ve chosen her. Not because she fits the bill or checks the boxes, but because she’s magnificent. And I’m lucky enough that she’s willing to put up with me.”

My grandmother snorts. “Changing the law will take time. And it requires a vote in Parliament. That means . . . politicking.”

“I know. I was hoping you could show me how to be good at that. Will you help me, Granny?”

She blinks down at me. Like she’s never seen me before, as if she’s relieved and grateful for what her eyes behold. “Yes. Yes, I can do that, Henry.”

I put my hand over hers and give it a little squeeze. It’s not a hug, but it’s a start.

“Thank you.”





Not long after that, after I’ve explained the entire situation to the Queen, it’s time to clean house. I find Vanessa in the library, for the first time looking frazzled, shuffling papers.

My voice is soft but with a hint of lethal.

“What did you say to her?”

She lifts her pointy chin. “Nothing that wasn’t true.”

I straighten my shoulders and look down at her, demanding, “What did you say?”

“Come on, Henry. You know how this goes. Drama sells. And your tryst with the sister? That’s some high-flying drama right there.”

“Do you think this is a game? Just a show? This is my life.”

She folds her arms and tightens her stance. “You’re a prince. Your whole life is a show.”

“Not anymore.” I shake my head. “I’m done. We’re done. This is all finished. You take your footage and do whatever you like. You want to eviscerate me on television? Have at me.” Then I lean over her. “But I’m warning you now, and it’ll be the only warning you get—if you go after Sarah, if you disparage her in any way, I will ruin you. I will use every resource at my disposal—and I have a fucking country behind me—to destroy you and everything you touch. Are we clear, Ms. Steele?”

Her eyes dart across my face, gauging my resolve and my sincerity. Vanessa may not be particularly pleasant, but she’s not stupid.

“I want an exclusive.”

“What?”

“If things pan out between you and the bookworm, it’ll be the story of the century, and I want it. I’ll sit on the footage and when you announce your engagement, I’ll put together a documentary.” Her eyes rise, seeing the headlines. “It’ll be like a goddamn fairy tale. How the prince was tamed by the quiet girl. How, after going through a dozen mattresses, he found his perfect pea. I want an interview to go with that story—with you and Sarah.”

I turn the offer over in my head, weighing the options.

“I’ll give you an interview, but I won’t speak for Sarah. If she wants to participate, fine—if not, you settle for me.”

“Agreed.”

“And I want final approval.” I point my finger at her. “You don’t air a second of footage until I see it in its entirety and approve.”

She thinks it over and then she holds out her hand.

“Deal.”

We shake on it.

And it looks like I’m not so shit at politicking after all.





An hour later, she brings me the new contracts. I sign on the dotted line and hand them back. “Now, get your equipment and get the fuck out of my castle.”