Long Live Queen Perry: Contemporary Reverse Harem (Kingdom of Veronia Book 3)

by Serena Akeroyd

  “To get a man like Ferdinand L’Argeneau on their side,” Xavier reasoned, and even as he said the words, he knew it to be the truth. That bastard was wily, corrupt, and worst of all—he was a member of Parliament. Throw in the fact his fortune inspired envy in even the richest of men, he was the kind of person a group of rebels wanted on their side.

  Bombs, weapons, snipers and hitmen… they sure as hell didn’t come cheap.

  “Who is he? Aside from Arabella’s father, I mean.”

  “Philippe and he used to be friends, and then when it didn’t work out between Arabella and Edward, they fell out. That was even before she died.”

  “So what? That happens. Divorces aren’t exactly uncommon anymore, are they?”

  “L’Argeneau’s a Kingmaker, Perry,” Edward explained.

  “What does that mean? You’re King. Not him.”

  “No. He makes kings. De Montfort? The man’s not even in L’Argeneau’s party, and yet, only through Ferdinand, did he get the backing to rise through the ranks to become Prime Minister. Ferdinand has the kind of influence you can’t even begin to believe.

  “He knows everything about anyone. Has his fingers in everything because it pays for him to know what’s happening and where.

  “Some petty politician being murdered in Cozumel, and another politician’s mistress giving birth to his child…that's the kind of information he peddles.”

  “But why?” Perry asked, gaping at the notion. “Why would something like that be of interest to him?”

  “Because he’ll be behind the murder of the politician; he’ll use the death to heft the politician with a lovechild into the man’s seat, and through that, will gain influence on the council or government.

  “It’s a well-kept secret among certain people. He rides the border of decency and illegitimacy, and uses who and what he knows to stay out of jail and away from the attention of law enforcement.”

  Her mouth was a perfect “O.” “But he’s a member of Parliament! Why do you let him carry on working for Parliament when he’s so corrupt?”

  “It’s not like we have a choice. He gets voted in democratically. He wins the vote for his constituency.”

  “Surely, he manipulates the votes?” Perry scowled—her democratic heart rejecting such a prospect.

  “No. Father investigated the matter once after another friend complained about him. The man’s been working for Parliament for decades without losing power once. Father looked and found nothing. Either because Ferdinand’s hidden it too well, or he’s genuinely popular with his section.” Edward rubbed his temple.

  “I tend to think it’s the latter,” Xavier inserted quietly, then began to drum his fingers against the table. “Don’t forget, he’s actually the member of Parliament who governs part of my estate. He’s good. He’s very good. Hands-on when it comes time to work with powerful men, men who can not only make use of his influence, but can pay to make sure Ferdinand gets into power time after time.”

  “You’ve had him help you?”

  Xavier nodded at Edward’s question. “My estate’s land is protected. You know that. I had to deal with him to get the greenhouse built. It was a necessary evil, but he was quite good about it.”

  “Did you bribe him?”

  He snorted. “No. Of course not. If I had, I’m under no doubt it would have been in the papers within the week.”

  “He must have expected a favor in return.”

  “If he did, he never outright mentioned it,” he countered. “And even so, if it went against the grain, I would never agree to it. You know that, Edward.”

  “Of course I do, but he doesn’t. He has something over you now.”

  Xavier snorted again. “He can try to use it. If he wants to make me do something I don’t want, he can throw it to the press. Even if it involves him finding out about this…” He made a circle with his finger, indicating the four of them. “I wouldn’t kowtow to him.”

  “You say that now,” Perry reasoned uneasily.

  “No, I mean it now. I won’t be blackmailed. Emotionally or financially.” Xavier shrugged. “I think Ferdinand knows that. If anything, he’ll have helped me to make me think kindly of him. Having the Duke of Ansian favor you is as good a bribe as anything.

  “You know how businessmen like associating with people who work for the Royals.”

  Edward nodded. Slowly. “He’s right, Perry.”

  She whistled out a breath. “I swear, I’ll never understand this world.”

  “You don’t have to,” Edward said on a faint laugh. “You just have to learn to work your way through it.”

  “If you say so.” She huffed.

  “Getting Ferdinand to believe the DeSauviers had killed his daughter would help the UnReals greatly. Can you imagine how much money he could funnel the group’s way?”

  “Enough to fund two hot-shit snipers, you mean?” Xavier pointed out gruffly.

  Perry let out a startled gasp. “Oh my God, it makes sense!”

  “Too much sense,” Edward said on a sigh. “Trouble is, we can’t haul Ferdinand in. He’s far too powerful, and we’d only look like I was actively going against what I declared to one and all today.”

  “No, you said the police would be interviewing every member of Parliament.”

  “Yeah, without any influence from me,” Edward argued.

  “Shit.”

  At Xavier’s curse, Perry snorted. “Ever eloquent.”

  He shot her a wink, and smiled when she chuckled.

  “How do you prove to someone like Ferdinand L’Argeneau that you didn’t kill his daughter? I mean, she died of an illness, for God’s sake. How do you prove that?”

  “Good point.” Xavier fiddled with the knife and fork in front of him. “How do we?”

  As he pondered that a second, Edward murmured, “The UnReals murdered the doctors and paramedics who tended Arabella to make it seem like there was a conspiracy. So, we prove that the UnReals were actually behind the murders, and unravel the evidence from within.”

  Nodding, Xavier asked, “Good thinking. Will you use Markov?”

  “He’s proven himself faster than Drake.”

  “Will we ever meet this Markov?” Perry grumbled. “I feel badly for Drake. We’re working around him; like I said before, how can he be efficient if he’s working blind?”

  “I’d prefer for him to focus on the matters at hand—our personal security. Just because we might have figured out what the fuck is going on here, Perry, doesn’t mean we’re safe. It doesn’t diminish the risk.”

  “True.” Xavier sighed, then a thought occurred to him. “In the drive over to the hospital, George said that the shootings… there seemed to be two different endgames.”

  Perry scowled. “What kind of endgames?”

  “Well, Marianne was hit first,” he pointed out gently. “Not Philippe.”

  “I didn’t realize,” she whispered. “I-I never watched the footage.”

  Edward’s hand squeezed her knee. “I didn’t want to either but I did after Xavier pointed that out to me. He’s right. Mother was the target. There was no reason for her to be shot at all if it was just dissatisfaction with the ruler; without my father, she couldn’t reign. The crown would pass straight to me.”

  “Maybe he missed? Like with me?” She shivered even as she asked the question.

  “No,” Edward retorted. “I don’t think so. After, I asked for more detailed reports from the security councils. The sniper’s positioning was too perfect. He’d have had a clear shot. And there was no real reason to hurry either. The gunman waited until the carriage they were traveling in had come to a halt.”

  Perry bit her lip. “Accidents happen, and even the best plans can go awry. There’s no way of knowing for sure that Marianne was the definite target.

  “And can I just say that traveling in damn carriages is so stupid anyway. Didn’t you guys learn anything from JFK?”

  “It’s a trust exercise,” Xavier said
softly, sadly. “It’s to engage with the public. It’s important, Perry.”

  Though she gritted her teeth, quite visibly, she nodded. “I understand.” She clearly didn’t.

  With a sigh, Edward murmured, “Let’s take it as concrete that Mother was always intended to be the one killed—and Father was just to cover it up.

  “If there are two different endgames from two different organizations, then targeting Mother was definitely the UnReals. They’re punishing her for what she did to one of their own. For what she did, and for what happened to Laurence Prichard.”

  “Nobody made the bastard kidnap you,” Perry argued angrily. “Jesus, just because she did what she did—and I’m not excusing it—it didn’t give him the right to fucking abduct you.”

  “No. But Drake indicated the man was deeply in love and very overwrought over losing Mother. Men and women can be fools in love.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s over-romantic bullshit.”

  “I can’t think of a reason why a man would decide to target his old lover’s children, kidnap them, and abuse them, unless it was to hurt and to punish that old lover.”

  Though she gnawed on her lip, Perry seemed to see the reasoning in that because she nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  “Happy to have you on board,” Edward teased wryly, then laughed a little as she elbowed him in the belly.

  The byplay astonished Xavier, especially considering the topic at hand.

  They were discussing the singular turning point in Edward’s life. A moment that had changed him forever, and yet, here he was… laughing over it with Perry.

  Jesus, he’d known she was a good influence on him, but hadn’t realized it was to this extent.

  “Okay, so if the UnReals wanted to kill Marianne, why would Ferdinand want to kill Perry?” Xavier asked, getting them back on topic.

  “Because she’s the future of the family.”

  “It’s not like he knew she was pregnant. Hell, Perry didn’t even know.”

  Though she flushed, Edward disregarded it and said, “I wouldn’t have married again if anything happened to Perry.”

  “How was he to know that?” Xavier retorted, shaking his head as he thought about it. Really thought about it. His mind took him back to that shitty day at the hospital, when Drake had made Perry discuss, in detail, what she remembered. “Perry, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but it’s important.”

  “I know. And it’s okay, Xavier. Ask whatever you want.”

  “You said to me that day of the shooting, there was plenty of opportunity for you to have been hit as you were walking along the picket line?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I was supposed to go straight into the clinic, but I didn’t. I walked down the fencing, greeting people. Cass and Murielle Harlington were off to one side, taking the flowers the people were giving me, and I had two guards following me closely. But the rest of my guards were spread out, monitoring the situation.”

  “And yet, you also said that the shots weren’t fired until you stepped back toward the entrance. The minute the gun went off, the guards huddled around you, didn’t they?”

  “Yes. They did.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Edward said, releasing the curse on a slow breath. “Perry wasn’t the target at all, was she?”

  “No. It was another case of misdirection... Raoul Da Silva was the intended target all along. Perry was just supposed to look as though she was in danger, but really, they were cleaning up. Getting rid of the inside man.”

  “But why?” Perry asked, her voice shaky, and the fine tremor that had overtaken her limbs was proof positive of how much this conversation was disturbing her.

  Xavier hated that. Hated the necessity of it, but it was imperative. They had to understand what was happening. Needed to know which step to take next.

  He licked his lips and murmured, “Da Silva must have become a liability. We need to find out why, and the minute we do, we have our way in.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Four weeks later

  “Hey, Mom! It’s Perry.”

  Janice let out a soft sigh. “Oh, it’s good to hear from you, darling.”

  They hadn’t spoken since the shooting, when Perry had also told her mother that she was pregnant. Janice wasn’t particularly happy about not being able to reveal to her neighbors that her daughter was finally giving her a grandchild, but once she’d explained, her mother had understood the fragility of their current situation.

  “It’s good to hear from you too, Mom,” she murmured gently, setting her phone on speaker so she could lay flat on the bed and stare up at the canopy above her. “You can always call me, you know? You wait for me to call you.”

  Before she’d become a princess, her mother had called up to three times a day.

  Perry hadn’t always answered, though. A fact she felt infinitely guilty about now.

  “You’re busy.”

  “I was busy before. It didn’t stop you then.”

  “Yes, well, now you’re important, too.”

  She huffed, well aware this argument would go nowhere. “Anyway,” she said, determinedly changing the subject, “I wanted to wish you a happy Thanksgiving!”

  “And to you, my darling girl. Thank you!”

  “I wish you and Dad had accepted Edward’s invitation.”

  “Seems silly to travel all that way to a country that doesn’t even celebrate it.” Janice argued now as she and Perry’s father had argued back in November.

  “Maybe, but I’m American.” She winced. “Well, technically… no. Okay. I’m not American anymore but my roots are, and they’re not going anywhere, are they? Plus, it would have been really nice to see you. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. And I know, I could have visited when I was at college and then after,” she said on a rush, “but…”

  Janice clucked her tongue. “Calm down, Perry. It’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said on a wail. Turning her head to the side where the empty bed taunted her, she whispered, “I wish I could come home.”

  “Your home is there now,” Janice said kindly but firmly. “I know what you’re going through, sugar. Don’t you think I felt the same way when I moved to be with your daddy?”

  Perry scowled. “You were a town away. Barely any miles at all.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t drive, do I? Might as well have been as far away as you are.” Janice’s voice was pragmatic. “Your grandmother didn’t drive either, and your grandfather was too busy with his farm to be driving me out to see her. All we had was the phone. That’s what we have. Doesn’t matter how many miles separate you so long as you have a phone, Perry. I’m always here for you. You know that, don’t you?”

  She worried her bottom lip and whispered, “I do. Thank you, Momma. I don’t deserve you.”

  Janice let out a light laugh. “I’m sure you don’t, darling, but you’re all I’ve got. Well, until I get a grandbaby from you.”

  “You will come over, won’t you? For the birth, I mean.”

  Janice hesitated. “I don’t know, Perry…”

  “Please. I’ll arrange the flights. “

  “Your father—”

  “No, he doesn’t have to come. Just you. I need you here, Momma,” she said, scrambling upright, panic flushing through her. “I don’t know how to do any of this, and I mean, they’ll have classes and things…but I want my mother here.”

  Janice released a long sigh. “I’ll be there. Don’t you worry. I-I’ll sort your father out.”

  Her parents had an odd relationship. She’d never understood it, not really. Her father was always calm and polite, but Janice reacted sometimes like a cat on a hot tin roof where he was concerned.

  “If he’s mad, tell him I’ll hire a damn housekeeper to keep the place for you while you’re away! Why wouldn’t he want you to be with me?”

  “That’s a good question,” her mother replied, tone firming. “You’re right. When’s the due date
?”

  “May.” She gulped. “So near and yet so far. I don’t even know how it happened.”

  Janice snorted. “With a man like that, Perry, there’s no hope for you if you don’t know how it happened.”

  Perry chuckled. “Momma! I didn’t know you had it in you!”

  “You’d be surprised, darling. But that’s a conversation for another day.” Perry could just imagine her mother fluffing her hair. “Anyway, I need to get on with dinner, sweet pea. The turkey’s in the oven but I still have a lot to do. Maybe this time next year, you’ll be able to visit me. All this craziness might have settled down by then, but, in the interim, don’t forget, you can call me anytime. Day or night.”

  Perry nodded, grateful at the invitation. “Thanks so much, Momma.”

  “You’re welcome, baby. I’ll speak to you later. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  And with that, she cut the call and immediately let out a shriek when a voice from the corner intoned, “You’re scared.”

  She slapped a hand to her heart at the sight of Xavier tucked away in one of the smaller armchairs. Although he was sleek and lean, he looked huge in the tiny-by-comparison seat. “What are you doing in here?”

  “Waiting for you to wake up.”

  “I’m awake!”

  “I know. You weren’t, though. But you picked up your phone as soon as you awoke.”

  She blinked at him. “Why didn’t you come and nap with me?”

  “Because I wanted you to have some good rest.”

  She pursed her lips. “I hate naps.”

  “You’d never know, considering how many you’re taking of late.”

  She blew him a raspberry as he climbed to his feet and approached her side of the four-poster. “I’d have preferred to have woken up with you at my side.”

  He tilted his head. “Why?” His grin morphed, turned wicked. “Have something in mind?”

  By contrast, her voice was prim as she said, “You’ve a pretty face. I like to look at you.”

  His nostrils flared as he suppressed a laugh. But his lips curved and she pounced; “Gotcha.”

  “Pleased with yourself now, are you?”