Page 126 of American Royals
“Oh, Nina. I’ve gone up against the Daphne Deightons of the world a thousand times over.” Isabella let out a mournful sigh. “You think your mom and I don’t know how it feels, being told that we aren’t good enough, that we don’t belong? I am a gay Latina woman in a position of enormous power in the king’s administration. That has won me far more enemies than it has friends. Every day I face people like Daphne—people who fight dirty, who think that they are entitled to anything in the world that they want, simply because they can reach their greedy hands out and take it.”
“Exactly!” Nina exclaimed. “How on earth can I win against someone like that? Fight fire with fire?” The thought of trying to out-manipulate Daphne was daunting. No way could Nina wage that kind of social warfare.
“Of course not.”
Julie combed her fingers through Nina’s hair: a soft, distracted gesture. “Your mamá and I look to each other to stay grounded. People like Daphne—who walk around the world hurting others, hiding their real selves—those people are the unlucky ones. You can’t worry about them. All you can do is be yourself, wholly and unapologetically. You don’t have to change for anyone, not even for a prince. And if Jefferson doesn’t love you just as you are, then he isn’t the young man I thought he was,” she added softly.
Nina shook her head. “I don’t know …. Jeff and I said some pretty harsh things to each other.” Hadn’t she called him shallow and selfish?
“Oh, sweetheart. Someday you’ll understand that words are just that—words. They can hurt, but they can also heal.”
They all looked up at the TV, which had panned to the crowds gathering outside the hospital. The capital must be totally shut down this morning. What looked like thousands of people had flocked to the streets, talking in low, somber tones. Strangers hugged one another; police monitored the intersections, to protect people who walked into the road, blinded by tears.
The reporter was saying something else, about how the stock exchange would suspend trading until further notice, but Nina wasn’t listening. All she could think about was this enormous outpouring of love and support for the royal family. She had to be part of it.
“Moments like this have a way of smoothing out the rough edges of things, to help us see what really matters,” her mamá chimed in.
Nina thought of what Jeff had said that night on campus, when he’d surprised her with the Wawa milkshake. You’re already part of our family, he’d told her. You belong with us—with me.
She stood up, running a hand distractedly through her hair, which was still matted with hairspray from last night’s dramatic updo. She needed to go, now. No matter what had happened between her and Jeff, she needed to be there for Samantha.
“Do you think—” She broke off, glancing uncertainly at her parents. “Do you think he’ll want to see me?”
“I don’t know,” her mom said honestly. “But there’s only one way to find out.”
Barely twenty minutes later they pulled up outside St. Stephen’s. Julie was driving, still in her pajamas, with Isabella perched in the passenger seat, casting worried glances back at Nina. They had insisted on giving her a ride so that Nina wouldn’t have to deal with parking.
Nina had watched in terrified awe as her mom cut across lanes of traffic, blazing through yellow lights with abandon. For once it didn’t seem to matter. There was barely anyone on the road. Coffee shops and laundromats were shuttered and dark, TEMPORARILY CLOSED signs fastened over their doors. A hush had fallen over the capital, as if everyone were anxiously holding their breath, putting their own lives on hold while their king’s life lay in the balance.
They pulled up outside the emergency-room doors, avoiding the cameras and microphones clustered near the side entrance. Nina saw the corner of the Royal Standard fluttering over the hospital roof, alongside the American flag—as if anyone didn’t already know that the king was in residence.
“Good luck, sweetie,” Isabella murmured, when Nina threw open the car’s rear door. “I love you.”
“Love you too, mamá.” Nina’s eyes darted to Julie, and her smile wavered. “Thanks for driving, Mom. Wish me luck.”
Nina provided her name at the front desk, and was relieved to learn that she’d already been added to the list of preapproved visitors. “I know they’ll be glad to see you,” the administrator offered. She glanced at Nina’s empty hands, a question in her eyes.
Nina tried not to reveal her consternation. Was she supposed to bring flowers? She’d come in such a frantic hurry that she hadn’t even thought of it.
Daphne probably would have come with a gift, but then, Daphne wasn’t the one here. Nina was.
When she reached the private wing where the king was being treated, Nina halted. A pair of palace security guards stood at the double doors. Recognizing Nina, they stepped aside to let her through.
Her steps quickened. The waiting area was just ahead. What would she say to Samantha, to Jeff? She couldn’t worry about it, Nina decided. She would have to just trust that the right words would come to her in the moment.
And suddenly, there he was—stepping around a corner, his face heavy with sadness. Nina ached for him. She opened her mouth to call out a greeting—
Daphne turned the corner next to him.
Nina stumbled back, retreating behind the heavy bulk of a soda machine. She watched in mounting horror as Daphne slipped her arm through Jeff’s: an intimate, confident gesture. Her face tipped up to his in concern and she nodded, listened to something he said. She had on a demure charcoal-colored sweater and simple cross necklace, a light dusting of makeup on her face.
She looked perfect, as always—perfect and expensive, where Nina was rumpled and stale, her eyes red-rimmed from a night of crying.
Had Jeff seriously called Daphne to ask her to come with him to the hospital?
Nina fought off a wave of dizziness. Just twelve hours ago, she and Jeff had been together, holding tight to each other on the dance floor, and now he was back with her. It confirmed everything Daphne had said. His relationship with Nina had been nothing more than a single off-key note, a blip interrupting his actual relationship.
In the end, Daphne really was the one who had all the cards.
