Page 28 of Royally Arranged

“As opposed to every other day.” I dropped the paper on the table. I took the croissant, bit off a hunk, and chewed. My father was sitting on the huge bed, gripping his own copy of the newspaper and staring at it. I knew what he was reading; I’d read it multiple times, too, when I’d picked it up off my hallway floor.

“Long-Lost Prince Returns. Will He Take the Crown?”

Swallowing the bread, I flapped the paper I’d brought and read it aloud. “‘Maverick Fredricson comes back from the dead. Multiple authorities have confirmed his identity after an official statement from Glen Finbar of the royal guard, but no one can confirm why our lost prince has come home. Does he want to take his late brother’s place?’” I squinted at my dad. “Well, does he?”

My mother’s hand rested on mine. “Sit,” she said. “Please.” Hesitating, I settled across from her at the table. She didn’t let go of me. “I know this isn’t what you wanted when you came to Torino.”

“It’s not what I wantedever,” I corrected. “I’m not Kain or Costello. I don’t want a wife to stroke my ego all day—though now that I say it ...”

“Stop playing around,” Maverick snapped. I glanced at him as he rose from the bed. “You’re always making damn jokes. There’s nothing to laugh at here.”

“Laughter is the only thing keeping me from swinging my fists.” I chuckled sourly; my mother squeezed my hand, drawing my attention again. “Ma, it’s nice that you’re trying to calm me down, but nothing you say is going to make this easier.”

“I know that.” Her eyes fell away, over to the window. “Thorne ... you don’t have to become king.”

“What?” I asked, stunned.

“What?”my father growled.

She looked at each of us in turn. “No one will force you. Especially not us.” My father moved our way; he stopped when she glared at him and lifted her hand in the air. “Especially not us,” she repeated.

“Carmina ...,” Maverick said warily.

Her dark eyes flashed. She was the only person I knew who could challenge my father and win. When he remained standing, she looked back at me with a small, gentle smile. “This is your choice. I’m going to give you all the information you need so you can decide what you want to do.”

I held her eyes. “I want to know what happens if I say no.” I had a strong suspicion but needed to hear her say it.

“The Valentines will fight to keep the throne. They’ll kill everyone who dares to threaten their claim.”

“Our whole family,” I said, frowning.

“Yes. But not just us. The people of Torino will reject them, too. They believe strongly in the royal succession. It’ll be a bloodbath before they give the crown to a family that has no claim.”

A void formed in my belly. I tasted bile instead of the sweet pastry from before. “Can’t we just tell them we won’t take the throne or whatever?” I pointed at Maverick. “You ran once. Let’s tell them we’ll run again and never come back.”

He made bulging fists at his sides. “It’s not that easy.”

“Sure it is! We shake Kurtis’s hand, tell them good luck, and off we go.”

“No,” he said, looking at the floor. “I can’t.”

Confused, I judged his expression—how flustered he suddenly seemed. A cold tingle swam through the creases of my brain. “You don’twantto give the crown up, do you?”

He managed to look at me. I think, if I’d been in his shoes, I would have been too ashamed to do the same. “This country is a mess. My brother left it in shambles. I can’t turn my back on everyone a second time.”

His honesty shocked me enough that some of my anger dissipated. “What’s stopping you from becoming the king again?”

“Weren’t you listening yesterday?” he sighed. “They want to put one of their own up there next to you. That’s the agreement, and I’m not getting a divorce to make that happen.”

My mom clicked her tongue. “Of course not.”

“And me trying to take the crown by force is as good as going to war with the Valentines,” he said. “I won’t put so many people in danger.”

I wanted to ask if saving this place was worth sacrificing me. Instead I turned back to my mother. “Tell me what happens if I say yes.”

My parents shared a quick look. “I think,” she said slowly, “that depends on you. They’ve got two girls, Darla and Nova. Both have agreed to the marriage.”

“So I do getsomesay in this,” I said, chuckling. I didn’t tell them Nova had already explained this part to me. It felt good to have one secret when they had so many. “Is this how they did it when you were younger, Dad? Arranged marriages?”

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