Page 121 of Rivals
As Beatrice walked closer, she noticed that something gold was nestled by the tiara. Marshall’s grizzly-bear pin, the icon of the Dukes of Orange.
He and Samantha had both left their family heirlooms, the symbols of their positions, here on the desk.
Her hand trembling, Beatrice reached for the note that was folded next to the tiara, though she already knew what it would say.
Sam was choosing Marshall.I’m all in,she’d written. She’d placed her own desires over the Crown.
Most of the monarchs at this conference would have viewed Sam’s choice as a sign of weakness, a character flaw. Once upon a time Beatrice might have agreed. Now, though, she couldn’t bring herself to criticize Sam’s choice.
At least one of the Washington sisters was able to choose love over duty.
Since she was a child, Beatrice had been told that the Crown took priority—that if she and the Crown wanted different things, then the Crown must win, always. That she was a queen first, and a young woman second.
When she was with Connor, she’d been all girl, and not enough of a queen. Then Teddy had come along and made her feel like she could be both at once. He didn’t just love “off-duty” Beatrice, in the brief snatches of time when she felt like an ordinary person; he loved her all the time, even when she was queen. Connor had loved herin spite ofher position, whereas Teddy loved her in a way that made her feel moresecurein that position.
Yet somehow Beatrice had still let the Crown come between her and Teddy.
She wondered how her parents had done it. Though, as unfair as the situation was, things had probably been easier for her mom, since there was a precedent for queens consort. Whereas Teddy didn’t have a clear role in her life.
And now Samantha was riding off into the sunset with Marshall, ignoring the demands of the Crown altogether. Beatrice realized that no matter what her fellow monarchs mightsay, Sam’s decision wasn’t weak at all. It showed powerful self-determination and courage. Sometime in the past year, Sam had forged herself into a woman to be reckoned with—a woman who knew her own mind.
Maybe Beatrice should take a page from Sam’s book and goall inon her own relationship.
She wasn’t about to renounce her title and run away to Hawaii, but she knew, suddenly, that she should fight for Teddy. Beatrice’s heart sank as she recalled the desolate look in his eyes when he’d kissed her on her brow and said goodbye. Increasing the distance between them wouldn’t solve things; it would only push them further apart.
All she wanted was to be with him. Sitting next to him, lying alongside him, her arms wrapped around his chest, their breaths intermingling. He was her anchor amid the storm, the only solid thing she could cling to in this whirlwind of a world.
Beatrice set down her sister’s letter, leaving it neatly folded next to the tiara, then hurried into the hall and down the stairs.
There were a few bedraggled partygoers spilling onto the path that led to the guest cottages. When the valets saw Beatrice emerge through the main doors—still wearing her gown and heels, not even clutching a purse—they glanced at one another in confusion. “Your Majesty, can we help you?”
She felt like a character from a movie making a sweeping romantic gesture as she said, “I need a car, now. We have to reach the airport before Lord Eaton’s plane takes off.”
To her relief, a Revere Guard stepped away from the front steps and nodded toward one of the sedans. “I’ll drive, Your Majesty.”
The ferry ride was torture. Beatrice kept staring from her phone screen to the tinted window, counting the minutes, hoping she would make it in time. Finally they were on themainland and cruising along the freeway toward the private airstrip.
“Are we close?” she asked the Guard, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window.
“Less than ten minutes, Your Majesty.”
A fresh wave of optimism washed over Beatrice. It would all be okay, once she saw Teddy. He would take one look at her expression and know what she was thinking, the way he always did. He would pull her into his arms, tell her that he loved her and that of course she hadn’t lost him.
The crash happened in the blink of an eye.
One minute they were driving, the surroundings passing in an indistinguishable blur of coastline, and the next moment there was the violent thud of impact, the screeching of tires, the shattering of glass. The world lurched sickeningly upside down, and Beatricehurt—
Then everything went dark.
Sam and Marshall walked down the sidewalk of the beach town hand in hand, inhaling the salt air and the morning sunshine. Palm trees swayed against the blue sky overhead. The stores they strolled past—painted in bright colors, with open porches and handwritten chalkboard signs—were just throwing open their doors. Only a few cars wound slowly along the streets; everyone was walking or riding a bike, children in pigtails and shorts racing each other to school.
Sam had on wraparound sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat over her hair, which was still half-curled and crunchy with hairspray from last night’s event. It was surreal, to think that just twelve hours ago she’d been at the League of Kings final banquet, and now they were here.
Once she’d left her note for Beatrice, Sam had tossed a few things haphazardly into her weekend bag and started off. She wanted to leave quickly, before anything happened to make her or Marshall lose their nerve.
She’d gone straight to Aunt Margaret—who was, unsurprisingly, one of the last people lingering out on the terrace—and drew her aside.
“I need your help,” Sam had said, cutting right to the chase. “Do you know a way that Marshall and I can get to Hawaii without anyone finding out?”
