“If you want to save another scene,” Tristan told Michael, “you might want to let my sister through.”
Michael nodded. He released Tristan, stepped away, and nodded to the man who was arguing with Sheena.
She walked to him and clasped his hand. “Rowan is outside with the car. Let’s go.”
Tristan looked to Michael. “Can I—”
“No,” he said before Tristan could make his request. “It’s best if you leave.”
“He’s right, Tris. We need to go.”
Tristan let himself be led through the maze of corridors. He never entered the ballroom again. He walked with a burgeoning sense of dread.
“She looked wrecked,” Sheena said quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“Eventually.”
She would, he knew, be okay. When the fervor died down and the headlines ceased. But until she dealt with the tragedy of her parents’ deaths, she wouldn’t truly heal.
“What about you, love?”
“You were right to worry,” he admitted.
He expected her to agree with him. Sheena loved nothing more than being right. But she merely squeezed his hand.
As they ducked into Rowan’s car, preparing to drive away, Tristan allowed himself one final glance at the palace. His warrior queen was in there, protected by walls and her security detail. And he was out here, wishing like hell he could be the one protecting her.
30
5 August
Shuffington Palace
Like a slow leak suddenly bursting open, Ele came awake. She’d lingered between sleep and wakefulness, in a semi-conscious awareness, lapping up streams of partial conversations, snatches of information.
“She is not going to like this, Your Highness.”
Millie was not a confrontational person. Ele couldn’t recall a time when Millie’s voice reached a pitch above normal. Except for now, with her whisper-hiss at Jamie.
Ele recognized the stress in Jamie’s tone. “It wasn’t solely my decision, Millie, but I agree with it nonetheless.”
“It’s not your decision to make, and she will not stand for it.”
Ele wondered, in her very clouded mind, what decision could make Millie angry. And while Millie was defending Ele, Ele could recognize the displeasure emanating from her assistant. She shifted on the bed, wanting to alert them to her presence. But even when she turned toward them, her eyes blinking in slow, pronounced ways, they remained locked in their battle.
“Millie!” Jamie had obviously had enough, and Ele braced.
When Jamie slipped into his crown prince speech, the one where he dared those around him to disagree, Ele feared the worst even though she couldn’t conjure up a worst in her present state.
His voice returned to a normal level. “Listen, there was a major breach of protocol that resulted in a resounding disaster.” His voice dropped another notch, and Ele found herself inching closer and straining to hear. “She’s getting crucified in the press. No one is showing a bit of mercy or fucking humanity. He didn’t protect her, Millie. Whatever his reasoning for allowing her to step into the fray, it cannot be tolerated. I know you know this. You are going to have to let this one go. Adopt the party line and help her with the transition.”
“What are you going on about?” Ele choked out. Her throat was raw and dry, hoarse from disuse.
Millie and Jamie jumped from surprise. Then, they rushed to her side. Jamie crouched down, so his eyes were level with hers. He reached up and pushed the hair away from her face, rubbing her forehead in comforting touches.