Royally Ever After (Royals of Valleria #7) (13 page)

BOOK: Royally Ever After (Royals of Valleria #7)
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Chapter Eleven

S
harp
, hot fury slithered through Alex’s blood, and nothing could assuage him.
God help him.

Alex’s phone rang. Because it could be the hospital – and, with a quick glance at the screen, he saw it was his father’s doctor – he called a quick recess and left the room.

His words were clipped, and remaining civil took all of his self-control. “Yes, Dr. Wilson? Yes. That’s good news. Excellent. We’ll be by later tonight. Thank you.”

“Is Papa okay?” Nate asked.

“Yes, he’s coming home tonight.”

“Great. Now, what the fucking hell was that bullshit? Fucking goddamn prick assholes.”

“You said it,” Marcello added, his own quiet fury pouring from him in waves.

Corrado and Tavin came running up, Alex speaking to them before they’d halted in front of them. “I want the two of you on top of this. Have legal analyze the law and see if what they’re saying is bullshit or truth.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Tavin said, his fingers flying over his phone.

“Both of have been trained in the discreet signals Royal Protection agents use, is that correct?”

They nodded, and Marcello confirmed.

“Good. I’m going use that system to signal you when to leak this to the press.”

Corrado’s mouth fell open. “Your Majesty, are you sure? Council meetings are confidential–”

“But my wedding is not. That is a widely anticipated, publicized event that affects the people of our nation, as well as the world over.

“I will
not
stand for this.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Corrado agreed.

“Good. Here’s what we’ll do.” And Alex outlined his plan.

A few minutes later, they returned to the Council chambers.

“I call this meeting to order once again. I apologize, but my father’s physician was on the phone. Thankfully, everything is still well. Now, to continue with the business at hand.

“Minister Hegarty, let me understand if I have this right. You’re telling me that I cannot marry the love of my life,” that got a ripple of uncomfortable movements around the room, “tomorrow,” more fidgeting, “because of an ancient law that you mysteriously discovered, soon after my father was rushed to the hospital?” Now, the other ministers in the room were shifting away from Zed and Byron. Alex sent a discreet signal to Tavin, who said a few words to Corrado, then rushed from the room.

Alex’s easy demeanor belied the frustration he felt inside. “Then let’s solve this right now. Either you pass a measure now to reconcile these two laws, allowing for a sitting monarch, particularly one in ill-health, to skip the ceremony, or I’ll let you tell the citizens and the press why you’re cancelling an occasion that people the world over are looking forward to. Is it your plan to make Valleria a laughingstock in the world’s eye?”

Zed laughed a little too hard. “Plan, Your Majesty? I’ve no plan. I’m merely reporting the law as it stands, which is my duty.”

“You are correct that the duty of the Minister of Justice is to uphold the laws. However, it is also the duty of your position to right any laws that are unjust. Are you unwilling to do that?” Alex sent another signal to Marcello, who discreetly pulled out his phone and began tapping away.

“Your Majesty, I feel–”

“Yes or no, Minister? Are you interested in upholding the tenets of your position? How about you, Minister Moneta?”

“Of course, Your Majesty–” Byron began.

“Yes or no?” Alex thundered, losing any sense of political calm he’d had. “Yes or no, Minister Hegarty?”

“No!” Zed shouted. “I’ll never agree to anything that sends you walking down that aisle towards a turn at king.”

The entire room stilled, tension thick and muddy, the haze of anger and disgust clouding everything around them. Nate put a hand on Alex’s knee under the table, a gesture warning him to regain calm.

Byron spoke first, his expression one of shock. “Your Majesty, I assure you, I do not feel that way, not one bit. When Minister Hegarty approached me about these issues, I had to inform you, Sir, but I had no intention of stopping the wedding.”

The haze cleared, but only slightly. No one had taken their eyes off of Zed. Alex wondered if this scene was also a plan, a sort of ‘Byron good-cop, Zed bad-cop’ routine meant to throw him off.

Alex discretely signaled to Corrado, who hastily left the room.

It was time for Alex to test his powers as king.

“I appreciate your honesty, Minister Hegarty. Being able to admit that you conspired against the crown is certainly not in your best interests, but honesty will lead you on the path to righteousness.”

Zed took a step back. “What do you mean by that? There’s no conspiracy. I just don’t believe you should be our leader.”

“Am I or am I not leading our country under the title of ‘King’? Yes or no?”

“Well–”

“Yes. Or. No?”

Zed cleared his throat. “That would be yes.”

“And did you, or did you not, in front of all these witnesses, admit you were conspiring to remove me from my rightful place on the throne?”

“It’s not your rightful place! A family should not lead our country. An elected official should.”

“Indeed? Well, by that same token, your position, and the position of every person on the Council, should also be chosen democratically. Perhaps we’ll start with that.”

A different kind of tension filled the air, this time laced with fear. No Council member, except perhaps Marcello and Nate, would survive an election.

Zed’s eyes were wide, his nostrils flaring. “You cannot fire us. Unless we choose otherwise, Council terms are for life.”

“So is the term for a king.”

Silence. No one could argue with that point.

“To clarify, however, Council terms are at the pleasure of the ruling monarch, whomever that may be. Though it is typically a lifelong appointment, it can just as easily be cut short if a Minister does not live up to their duty and the oath of their office.”

Alex stood, forcing everyone in the room to stand as well. From his height, the height of the king’s chair, he loomed over them all, even over Nate at his side.

In that moment, no one in the room was more imposing than him. “Minister Hegarty, you are under arrest for conspiracy against the crown.”

Marcello took over and pulled Zed easily from the crowd.

“You can’t do this! You can’t fire me!”

“As the king appointed you, the king can remove you. You were hired with a great deal of support from your fellow Ministers. It will be interesting to see which of them still continue that support.”

The subtle warning was not lost on the room. Zed Hegarty had just been outed as an anti-monarchist who had conspired against the crown.

If anyone remaining felt the same, they’d keep their mouths shut.

At least for now.

Alex took a seat again; everyone else soon followed. “Now, about this law. Minister Moneta.”

Byron jerked in his seat. “Y-Yes, Your Majesty?”

“What needs to be done to reconcile the two laws?”

“Well, I’m not sure of the legalities, Your Majesty. However, the easiest way may be to pass a new law, removing any reference to the older ones.”

“Why don’t we just void he old laws? Both of them? That is also under the purview of this Council, is it not?”

“Well, yes, Your Majesty, that is certainly another option. However, to preserve some semblance of tradition, perhaps–”

Alex’d had enough. “I have the utmost respect for tradition. I have bowed to tradition time and time again. I was kept from marrying the woman I love for a year because of the Marriage of Royal Heirs Act of 1702, which required me to notify the Council of my impending marriage, and to wait one full year before proceeding with the ceremony. Did you hear me complain about any of that, even once? No, you did not. Not even when the Council refused to sign the final approval documents just days before my wedding.

“I assure you, I am more than aware of the role of tradition in our lives. However, do you not feel that some traditions, no matter how well meaning they may once have been, serve no place in modern times?”

Byron took a small sip of water from his glass, his hand shaking ever so slightly, but Alex saw it. “Your Majesty, I can see your point, of course. However–”

“Five hours. I
will
be married tomorrow, so you have five hours to set this to rights. I will not have Valleria laughed at on the world’s stage because our Royal Council refuses to see sense. I will not have Valleria’s reputation irreparably damaged. That is just one of my duties as king, and I will see it done.

“We will meet again in two hours. By then, I expect some measure of cooperation from all of you to draft a law either vetoing these pre-existing laws – and any others that may be coincidentally discovered – or draft a new law to replace the previous two. We will all remain in this room until this is accomplished. Anyone who does not support this endeavor, should consider themselves no longer on the Royal Council, and I’ll expect your formal resignations by the time we reconvene.”

Alex stood, once again causing the Council to scramble from their seats. A small part of Alex relished in the thought of controlling them, simply by rising from his chair. If only it were that simple to make them see sense. “Since my day is no longer my own, I am adjourning this session of the Council. Any new or old business to be discussed will be done so
after
the wedding. We are adjourned.”

Alex strode from the room, anger and frustration fueling the way, Nate following close behind. He caught sight of Tavin and Corrado in the hall. “Is it done?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Tavin said. “The appropriate leaks went to the media. The public outcry is decidedly in your favor, and the royal family’s favor.”

Alex nodded. Normally, he wouldn’t have revealed such intimate details about a Council meeting’s proceedings, but this was clearly a unique situation. “Good. You both heard the end? I’ll need you both here today.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Corrado said. “We’ll make sure this is done.”

“Nate, I’ll need you, too. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me for that spectacle. Fucking morons.”

Alex clamped a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Thanks, Nate.”

Nate clamped a hand back. “Think nothing of it. You know I’m behind you, but now I’m questioning leaking this to the press. Hegarty may have had someone on standby ready to destroy any files or links we could have made, which we could have avoided if we’d had more time.”

“Perhaps, it was a rash decision. However, I have no doubt it was the right one.”

“Hegarty could just be the tip of the iceberg. I’m going to do some digging, see if I can get the other ministers to talk. Someone must have known about his inclinations.” Nate strode away down the hall.

Alex needed Rebecca. He needed her alone, just the two of them, just for a minute. Just one fucking minute so the world could make sense again.

How in hell was he supposed to tell her this news?

Alex turned back to his chiefs of staff. “Start working on drafts of the bills – both versions – as much as you can before the meeting starts.”

Corrado gave him a shrewd look. “You believe they’ll push back on vetoing the original laws, Your Majesty?”

“I believe they’ll do anything they can to save face. However, they also know we need this bill completed and signed. When they’re working on a timer, they always try to negotiate other, ridiculous provisions into everything.

“Perhaps, in the past, my father was willing to go to extra lengths to accommodate them.

“Today, however, I am in no mood. And they’ll soon discover that, if they haven’t already.”

Alex strode down the hall and made his way towards the Gara Hotel. He had to see Rebecca.

Chapter Twelve

E
dward’s
tall frame stood at loose attention, his keen eyes raking over everything around him, while still keeping a watch on Zinnia as she made her way through customs at the airport. She was dressed demurely in long, black pants, black ankle boots, and a cream-colored silk shirt. Her honey blond hair was twisted up and she wore no jewelry.

She was classy, but clearly trying to blend in and go unnoticed.

If she had an accomplice, she wasn’t obvious about it. An initial check on her fellow passengers hadn’t revealed anything, either, though that didn’t mean anything.

Her half-brother, Lafayette, had managed to ingratiate himself into the Royal Protection Service as a sort of contractor, and all because his background checks had been clean.

His mind and his intentions, however, had been a different matter entirely.

“Miss Veiga?” Edward said as she passed him.

Zinnia jerked, her carry-on fell to the floor and she drew her purse close to her chest. “Yes?” she asked hesitantly.

“My name is Edward. I’m with the Royal Protection Service. Prince Marcello told you to expect me?”

She relaxed slightly. “Yes. Yes, of course he did. He didn’t give me a name, however. Thank you for meeting me.”

Edward watched her fiddle with the clasp on her purse. Was she hiding something in there, or was she just nervous? His instincts told him the latter, but caution had him preparing for the worst. “There are other agents following you, as well,” he gestured to a couple of them nearby, “and we’ll continue to follow you during your time in Valleria.”

“I understand. I won’t cause trouble.” She picked up her fallen carry-on.

Edward quirked an eyebrow. “As you say, Miss Veiga. Right this way.” He gestured for her to walk in front of him, another agent leading her out of Valentia’s airport.

“We’re going to the cemetery first, correct?”

“Yes, Miss Veiga.”

“Please, call me Zinnia. I, um, don’t much care for my last name.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll need to address you formally unless Prince Marcello deems otherwise.”

She bit her lip, but nodded.

Nearly thirty minutes later, they pulled through the gates of a small cemetery. Though Lafayette was technically royalty – extremely distant royalty – he was not granted burial privileges in the royal cemetery. He was instead buried here, on the outskirts of town, in a cemetery known for criminals and thieves, and traitors to the crown.

When they pulled up near his grave and stepped out, Zinnia turned to him.

“I know you need to follow me and everything, and that’s fine,” she added hastily. “But would you mind giving me a little distance? I…I need to say something to him, and I don’t want to be overheard. Please?”

Her eyes were shadowed in pain; as he’d brutally lost both of his parents, he knew some shadows lingered. He wondered if her pain was for Lafayette or for something – or someone – else. “As you wish, Miss Veiga.” She winced at the sound of her name. “We’ll maintain our presence, but you’ll have some privacy.” He signaled to the other men nearby, who fell slightly back.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice trembling. She turned and took a deep breath, then muttered something to herself. She rolled her shoulders back, and took a tentative step forward, then another. Her steps grew more confident as she reached the grave.

She stared down at the small headstone, which had been overtaken by weeds. She didn’t reach down and clean it up, didn’t pull weeds aside as a loved one would have done, as Edward would have done for the gravestones of his parents or family. She stared down, her posture stiff yet one in control.

Edward saw her lips move, though her mouth was thin in anger. She stomped on the grave once, twice, then pointed at the headstone and shook her head.

She spoke a little more, then spit – actually spit – on his grave and walked away towards Edward.

“I’m ready to go to the prison now.”

Edward gave her an assessing look. “You understand your conversation with Gerald will be overheard?”

“I –” She swallowed hard. “Yes. Yes, I figured as much.”

Edward waited a beat, then nodded. “All right. Let’s head out.”

It took an hour to get to the prison from the far-flung cemetery, and to make their way through security. Zinnia didn’t ask Edward any questions, didn’t make one bit of noise along the way. She simply stared out of the car window, lost in her own thoughts.

It was a maximum security prison. Gerald would ordinarily only see visitors from behind a partition. Only Marcello’s approval allowed Zinnia access to him, in person, in the same room, without a barrier.

Edward watched Zinnia sitting quietly in a bolted chair. Her only movement was toying with the cuff of her sleeve.

Gerald entered a few minutes later, bound in chains, and Zinnia straightened in her chair as he shuffled into the room. By Edward’s guess, Gerald had lost more hair since he’d entered prison, his pallor pale. His glasses were standard prison issue, thick and black, and function over form.

The guards ushered him into a chair and he rested his chained wrists on the desk, interlocking his fingers when he did.

Gerald gave her a look that would have had most women squirming in their chair, but Zinnia held herself together.

Gerald’s voice was rough and hoarse. “What do you want?”

She took a deep breath. “I wanted to see you, one last time.”

“Well, I didn’t want to see you. You ever think of that?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I did. But I don’t care what you think anymore.”

Gerald narrowed his piggy little eyes at her. “Oh really? So, you don’t care if I call you a whore?” Zinnia sucked in a breath. “You don’t care if I tell everyone in this room about–”

“Shut your goddamned mouth!” she spat out, as if she’d been waiting years to say it. “Do you even recognize the terrible things you’ve done?”

“I didn’t do anything to anyone who didn’t deserve it.” He leaned closer. “And they’ll get more of what they deserve soon.” Then Gerald smirked at Edward and the other agents in the room.

Edward kept his face even, but went on alert. He knew Gerald couldn’t mastermind an attack himself behind prison walls, but he could have an accomplice beyond the walls.

Edward and Marcello had both thought that accomplice might be Zinnia.

Now, after seeing her today, Edward wasn’t so sure she was involved.

“Don’t you ever learn your lesson?” Zinnia hissed. “No. They should have killed you when they had the chance. Then you’d be dead like your asshole son right now.”

Gerald face twisted into a snarl. “Don’t you talk about my son like that. He was the only good child I had. You were useless. A woman’s not good for anything except being a whore.”

Zinnia let out a shuddering breath, laced with anger and disgust. “Jesus. It’s no wonder my mother killed herself.”

Edward froze. Reports had said the late Mrs. Veiga had died of a heart attack. He knew Marcello and the royal family were under the same impression. Clearly, her suicide was covered up, but why?

“That bitch was useless.”

“She was not useless,” Zinnia said vehemently. “You were. You’re a tyrant. I wanted to see if prison would have changed you, but it’s made you worse.”

“Is that why you came here? Seeking forgiveness for being a whore?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Wanted to call me names to feel better about yourself?”

She swallowed hard, then rolled her shoulders back. “I was raped. That doesn’t make me a whore.”

The air filled with tension from every agent in the room, including Edward.
Jesus
. None of the royal family knew about that, he was sure of it.

Gerald scoffed. “That’s what you think. You wanted it. You women always want it.”

Zinnia shook her head. “I realize now it was pointless to come.” She stood, her height towering over him. “I think I’m going to burn you.”

“What?” he clipped.

“When you finally die. I’m going to have you cremated. I didn’t do that with your sick, twisted son – him, I had buried, for a very specific purpose – but you. Yes, I think cremation is the way to go. You certainly won’t be buried by that son-of-an-asshole.”

Gerald’s lips twisted into a snarl. “That’s my son.”

She gave him a rueful smile. “Like I said. Son. Of. An. Asshole.”

“Why you little–” He lunged from his seat and wrapped his hands around her throat.

Her choking sounds filled the room. The agents pulled Gerald away from Zinnia, while Edward pulled her away from Gerald.

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, you little bitch,” Gerald spat. “They’ll all get what’s coming to them. And just in time for the wedding.” Gerald cackled while the guards yanked him out of the room and away.

Zinnia was leaning against Edward for support, her breath in short, sharp gasps.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she rasped. She leaned away to stand on her own and took a few long, slow breaths. “Right,” she said softly. “You can take me back to the airport now. Unless, could I just take a train back? Would that be okay?”

Edward trusted his gut. Right now, his gut was telling him to keep her in Valleria a little longer. “We’ll need to take you to the hospital, Miss,” he said, deliberately leaving out her last name. “Standard procedure.”

Her brows furrowed but she nodded.

Security was tightest at Gabriel’s hospital, so he took her there. That way, if she was involved in the threat, they’d be covered. And, if she wasn’t, then the family could speak with her as well.

Edward hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

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