Page 80 of Royally Arranged

My father and mother stood to my right, and Glen was on my left, opposite Nova. I maintained my grip on her hand like I would never be able to let her go. I didn’t want to. So I wouldn’t.

Questions swarmed us with the cops now gone:

“Your Majesty, is it true that you broke the law?”

“Yes,” I said gravely. “I did.”

“Do you think it’s appropriate for a king to be caught with his literal pants down?”

I knew it was wrong to laugh, but I couldn’t help it; all the stress inside me melted away in that split second. “Oh no, it’s definitely not appropriate. No king worth his salt would do something as stupid as what I did. Getting caught, I mean,” I said, amending my statement as I pulled Nova closer to me. “I don’t want anyone to think I meant that I regret having sex with my wife.”

There were a few chuckles from the crowd.

“Is the queen really pregnant?” another reporter asked, mic halfway to banging my nose.

“Yes,” I started to say, glancing at Nova. “The queen is pregnant, but I—”

“Who attacked you, leaving that black eye?”

Touching my temple, I flinched. “Larchmont Valentine. He coordinated with some guards in the castle to arrest me in secret.”

“Do you think the guards can be trusted?”

“Can anyone be bribed these days?”

“Has this country gotten better or worse since you came into power?”

The questions started coming faster and faster. I wasn’t able to keep up, I was getting dizzy. The camera lights were bright and blinding. Whatever relief I felt now that the Valentines had been taken away evaporated under this new assault. That last question hit me particularly hard.

My father stepped forward, standing to his full height. “Of course this country has gotten better since my son arrived.” His voice boomed over the camera shutters. “Look at the productivity over the past month alone, at the amount of construction that’s being caught up on and even started anew. The corruption left behind by the influence of the former queen’s family is being extracted day by day. How could anyone ask if this country is better off?”

I stared at him in amazement. The words coming from his mouth were defensive, like he couldn’t handle the idea of people slandering me in front of him. I didn’t know what to do. He’d never been so openly kind, not that I could remember, anyway.

He thinks Torino’s better with me here?I wondered to myself. Nova laid her head on my shoulder. She said softly, just so I could hear, “Everything your father says is true. I haven’t seen this city flourishing for a long time. Every summer when I visited it seemed to get worse. But not now.”

My flutter of pride was brief.Both of them are right, but for the wrong reason.

This countrywasdoing better. But it had nothing to do with me.

Maverick was the one attending all the meetings with the politicians I loathed.

He was the one working on the backed-up contracts.

The physical work being done that no one else could get to fast enough for his satisfaction? All him. My father had worked both mentally and physically to begin the long process of healing his home country.

The paparazzi were still yelling questions, but I wasn’t listening to them anymore. Lifting my head, I said, “I have an announcement to make.” People went quiet, the microphones edging ever closer. I could’ve taken a bite out of one of them if I wanted to. “I, Hawthorne Luca Fredricson, the king of this country, have decided to step down.”

The roar of disbelief was deafening. My father stared at me with his lips going thin and white. My mother clutched at the shawl around her throat.

Nova lifted her head, her eyes not shocked—they were simply curious.

“Everything that’s happened, everything you all have said, it’s made me realize something.” Shrugging, I clasped Nova’s hand with both of mine, staring at her, speaking to her. “I love this woman. I love that she’s carrying our child. I want to be at her side for every last breath we both ever take. But I don’t need to be king, and she doesn’t need to be queen, for me to do those things.”

“Thorne,” she whispered.

Smiling, I scanned the crowd; they were a wall of camera lenses. “I created nothing but scandals. I’m not entirely sure that me being here has actually been good for any of you. Yet the countryisbetter on the whole ... you just don’t have me to thank for it.” I turned to lock eyes with Maverick. “You have him. My father.”

“Hawthorne,” he said, “you can’t do this. If you step down, there is no one—”

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