Page 75 of American Royals II: Majesty
And she missed Teddy. It felt like he was the only person she could talk to, lately—the only person rootingforher, instead of rooting for her to fail. But he and his brothers were spending the weekend at their Nantucket house, which, true to her word, Beatrice had quietly repurchased.
She hesitated a moment, then pulled out her phone and dialed the palace’s air traffic control line. “I need the plane,” she said smoothly. “How soon can it be ready?”
The life of a queen had plenty of restrictions, but it had its perks, too. And for once, Beatrice intended to use them.
When she reachedEagle III—the smaller of the royal family’s private planes, much smaller than the massiveEagleV—the pilot didn’t ask why she’d insisted on leaving in the middle of the night. He didn’t even protest when Beatrice opened Franklin’s crate before takeoff and pulled him onto her lap. She sat there like that, letting the puppy nuzzle her face with his wet nose, for the entirety of the ninety-minute flight to Nantucket.
Finally her car pulled up the secluded driveway, and the Eatons’ beach house came into view. It was a large home, yet unassuming, with traditional cedar shingles and a white sloping roof. And there was Teddy, waiting on the wraparound front porch, wearing jeans and a Nantucket red hoodie.
The sight of him broke whatever threads remained of Beatrice’s self-control. She flung open the car door and ran forward to throw her arms around him, to lean her head against the solid plane of his chest.
When she stepped back, Teddy didn’t ask any questions, just grabbed two mugs from the railing of the porch. “Coffee?” he offered, in a normal, upbeat tone. As if it weren’t strange of her to have shown up like this, without warning.
She curled her hands around the mug, touched by his thoughtfulness. “Sorry to wake you up so early. I just—I needed to talk to you, and it couldn’t wait. Or at least, itfeltlike it couldn’t wait.”
“I like getting up early. Sunrise is the best part of the day here, you’ll see.” Teddy glanced toward the ocean. “Should we go for a walk?” He whistled for Franklin, who bounded forward from where he’d been exploring the muddy grass beneath the porch.
When they reached the beach, Beatrice kicked off her shoes. The sky was a dusky purple overhead, stars scattered over its canvas like frozen tears, though at the edge of the horizon she saw the first pearly hints of morning.
Franklin raced ahead to the dark line of the surf and splashed gleefully along its edge. Beatrice and Teddy followed. They sat down in the sand, their feet planted before them, so that the foam-kissed waves just barely brushed their toes.
For a few minutes they were both silent, watching Franklin sprint up and down the beach, his tail wagging furiously. Each time he ventured into the water, he would let out a little yelp of delight before retreating.
“He’s gotten so big,” Beatrice mused aloud. Putting off the topic she’d come here to discuss.
Teddy nodded. “Puppies grow up too fast. Blink and you miss it.”
Everythingwas happening too fast. When she was younger, Beatrice had thought time moved so slowly, that a year was an eternity to wait for something. Now it felt like physics had twisted and time had accelerated, and she wasn’t sure how to keep up.
She used to be so certain of everything, but now she felt certain of nothing. If only she could rewind the clock to before her father died: when everything had been so clear-cut and simple, when everything madesense.
The ocean rippled before her, its surface a molten silver. As always, the sight of it calmed her a little. Beatrice loved how small it made her feel, that the sheer size of it dwarfed everything, even America itself.
“I lost a showdown with Congress yesterday. Or, really, with Robert,” she said at last.
Teddy didn’t interrupt. He just shifted a little closer, letting Beatrice explain the whole disastrous encounter.
“I keep wondering what my dad would say about all this,” she finished, shame and resentment warring in her chest. “Would he have understood why I did it…or would he say that I’ve been foolish, jeopardizing the balance of power? That I acted out of pride and put the entiremonarchyat risk?”
When he spoke, Teddy’s voice was thoughtful and steady. “Bee—I can’t speak for your dad. But I, for one, am proud of you.”
“Even though I violated the terms of the Constitution?”
“I thought Congress violated the Constitution by failing to invite you,” he countered.
Beatrice looked down, tracing a few swirls on the damp sand. “I’d have to check…”
“I doubt it,” Teddy challenged, giving her shoulder a playful nudge. “Come on, nerd out for me. You know you wantto.”
He was fighting back a smile, but his dimple gave him away. Seeing his expression, Beatrice couldn’t help smiling, too.
“Article three, section twenty-eight,” she recited. “ ‘It is a duty of the King to convene and dissolve a Congress. In the absence of a Crowned King, Congress shall ask the Heir Apparent to preside over its opening and closing: the Legislative Body deriving its authority from the people, but its Action and Competency from the Crown—’ ”
She was cut off mid-sentence when Teddy leaned over and dropped a quick kiss on her lips.
“Sorry,” he told her. “I just, um…”
“Have a thing for girls reciting the Constitution?”
