Bridget
For the next month,I launched into campaign mode to woo, or threaten, enough ministers into voting yes on a repeal. Some were an easy sell, others not so much. But one hundred phone calls, eleven in-person visits, twenty-three media interviews, and countless public appearances—both scheduled and “candid”—of me and Rhys later, the big day finally arrived.
Rhys and I sat in my suite, watching the vote play out on TV. I’d stress-ate my way through two packs of Oreos while he sat next to me, his face impassive but his body vibrating with the same restless energy tunneling through my veins.
The current vote count: ninety yay, thirty nay, and two abstentions, with fifty-eight more votes to go. We needed one hundred thirty-five yays for a repeal. It looked good, but I wasn’t counting my chickens until they hatched.
“Lady Jensen.” Erhall’s sour voice rang through the mahogany-paneled chamber on-screen.
“Yay.”
“Lord Orskov.”
“Yay.”
I squeezed Rhys’s hand, my heart thumping. I’d slotted Orskov into the maybe column, so his vote was a big win.
“They’ll pass it.” Rhys’s quiet confidence soothed the frayed edges of my nerves. “If they don’t, we have our backup plan.”
“Which is?”
“Burn down Parliament.”
I huffed out a laugh. “How’s that supposed to help?”
“I don’t know, but it’d be damn satisfying.”
Another laugh, another easing of nerves.
Fifty-seven down. Fifty-six. Fifty-five.
The vote continued until only two ministers were left and we were one yay short of a repeal. If either of them voted yes, we were home free.
I squeezed Rhys’s hand again as Erhall called on the next minister.
“Lord Koppel.”
“Nay.”
I deflated while Rhys let out a stream of curses. I hadn’t expected Koppel to vote yes, but it was disappointing nonetheless.
Regret rose in my throat. I should’ve dug out the blackmail file on Koppel. I’d tried to keep my campaign aboveboard, never outright threatening any of the ministers except Erhall, but perhaps I’d miscalculated. I wouldn’t be the first person in history who’d gotten screwed over by their conscience.
You did what was right.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I straightened and looked around my suite, but it was empty save for Rhys and me. Still, I could’ve sworn I heard a soft female voice whisper to me…a voice that sounded suspiciously like my mother’s, based on the old tapes I’d watched of her.
This is what I get for staying up late. I’d been too wired to sleep much last night, and I was clearly delirious from exhaustion.
On-screen, a smug smile slashed across Erhall’s face, and I could tell he was praying for the repeal to fail. He’d opened the motion as promised, but his glee had been visible every time someone voted nay.
“Lady Dahl.”
I gnawed on my bottom lip.
Dahl was the last minister left. She had one of the most unpredictable voting records in Parliament, and she could go either way. None of my calls to her had yielded anything more than a polite Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll think about it.
The restless energy emanating from Rhys tripled until it was near audible in the thick silence of my suite. The Oreos sloshed in my stomach, and I wished I hadn’t binged on so much sugar in such a short time.
Dahl opened her mouth, and I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to watch the moment that would change my life—for better or for worse.
Please, please, please…
“Yay.”
Yay. It took a minute for my brain to process that one word. When it did, my eyes flew open in time to see an irritated-looking Erhall say, “With a final vote count of one hundred thirty-five yay, forty nays, and five abstentions, Parliament officially declares the Royal Marriages Law of 1723 repealed. The chamber…”
I tuned out the rest of what he said. I was too buzzed, my skin racing with tingles of electricity and my head dizzy with disbelief. My stunned gaze met Rhys. “Did that really happen?”
His eyes crinkled into a small smile. “Yeah, princess, it did.” Fierce pride and relief lined his face.
“We did it.” I couldn’t wrap my head around it. The law had been the bane of my existence since I became crown princess, and now, it was gone. I could marry whomever I wanted without giving up the throne. I could marry Rhys.
The import of what happened fully sank in.