“What do we know from Moncriano politics? We’ve only been here six weeks.”
Simon shoved to his feet, voice raised. “She asked you to lie, mate. She asked you to hand over a report that’s biased. Despite the facts pointing in a completely different direction. Not even for the good of the country. For her own good. For her own ego-centric power play.”
“This is a nightmare.”
“It’s only…awkward. More so with the added layers of your photo extravaganza. But our bosses will stand behind your work. God knows I’ll back you up.”
Theo valued Simon’s optimism. But he’d found it safer to traffic in skepticism. “What if Skaggit says I’m wrong? Or dismisses it all as a move by me to shift the spotlight I’m stuck under right now? What if she blackballs me? Who knows what she’s already made up and is waiting to threaten me with if she doesn’t like the looks of it?”
“Even if the princess is back in the palace stabbing pins into voodoo dolls of you, you still love her, don’t you?”
Grabbing the bottle of water next to his laptop, Theo drained half of it in one long swallow. And wished it was vodka. “What’s your point?”
“Would you really throw Genevieve under the bus to appease Skaggit?”
Damn it, that wasn’t supposed to be his problem. “It comes down to a choice. A choice I promised myself years ago that I’d never have to make.”
“If it’s a choice between Manchester United and Leicester, mate, we’ve had this fight a thousand times already.”
The joke was weak but appreciated. “You’re a good friend. I’m sorry I dragged you into all this.”
“I said I wanted an adventure in Moncriano. Being international-scandal-adjacent checks that box. Besides, it’s comforting to know that you owe me hugely.”
Theo stood to pace. He couldn’t lay out these options sitting still. Just saying it tensed all his muscles. “I can either lie—or not.”
“That’s a no-brainer of a choice.”
“Ah, it gets trickier, though. I can do what is best for me—and my career—or what is best for the House of Villani. A choice between what I want and what the Crown wants. Exactly what I’ve fought against my entire life.”
“Hey. Are you the man who’ll let them be screwed over to protect yourself? On bloody principle?”
Simon was being so damned reasonable. Theo couldn’t rebut with logic. All he had was the bitterness he’d nursed for so long toward the royal family, toward their rules and traditions, and everything that said they were more important than their subjects.
Even though the actual, present day Villanis had showed him that they didn’t believe that for a second.
“It’s defined my whole life. Being sent out of the country, being uprooted and abandoned, just to protect the House of Villani.”
“It did.” Simon grabbed his shoulders to stop Theo and stare him in the eyes. “What if it doesn’t matter anymore? What if there’s a new moment, this moment, that defines the rest of your life?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Risk. Spontaneity. Two words that had been stricken from Genevieve’s life at the tender age of two when her baby sister had disappeared. She’d been taught that good, sensible, cautious choices gave her control over her life. Control equaled safety.
None of that had prevented being blindsided by Theo’s apparent cheating. Nor had she been “safe” in the carefully controlled palace. Not with a mole ready to give up her privacy and trust—repeatedly.
That all stopped.
Today.
And while it was, indeed, risky to plow ahead with her plan while still awaiting final confirmation? Especially when her bodyguard and Sir Stefano had begged her to hold off?
Genny was done waiting.
She was done holding in her anger to be polite.
And she was done with putting her desires second to what might be best for the throne.
There were a whole slew of people looking out for the Crown’s best interests. Her entire extended family—motivated by blood and honor and tradition. Their entire staff—motivated by hopefully two out of the three, as well as a steady paycheck.
Genevieve was the only one wholly looking out for herself.
Well, and Theo.
Perhaps. He’d certainly given every indication, until that bombshell five days ago. And it had felt so good to have someone be on her team and her team alone. It had been wonderful.
“Are you ready to get your ass kicked?” Kelsey asked. She hunkered down into a near-squat on the padded gym floor and raised her arms into a fighting stance. It might’ve looked impressive if she hadn’t been wearing Genevieve’s fluorescent orange spandex leggings.
And if she hadn’t been waggling her butt.
“Kelsey, you know, you don’t have to make up for twenty-four years of not getting to borrow my clothes all at once. When are you going to get your own workout gear?”
“I had some. Old. Slightly, ah, well used. Which was deemed unworthy by several stylists. Even though it is just for sweating in.” She braced her hands on her thighs, leaned forward, and lowered her voice. “I think they pressured my maid to throw it out, a piece a week, hoping I wouldn’t notice. All that’s left is what I borrowed from you.”
“You’re a princess.” Genny gave a sharp tug to her ponytail. “Third in line to the crown. You can’t be intimidated by Marie and her team. Take their well-intentioned suggestions on appropriate attire for public events but for everything else? Let them know who is in charge.”
Wrinkling her nose, Kelsey said, “The Grand Duchess?”
“Sometimes,” Genny acceded, with a wry grin. “But the correct answer is you. Do some online shopping tonight and fill your closet with sports bras and spandex.”
“I’ll wait for the next sale. Maybe have Mallory hit the UnderArmour outlet in Chicago on her way out of town.”
It was adorable how her penny-pinching sister still rationed her money like she was barely subsisting in a fourth floor Manhattan walk-up. It was also frustrating. “Don’t wait for the sale. Do it as a…birthday present for yourself. Since my problems more than ruined your party last week.”
Thanks to smartphones and the propensity of the Court to gossip, word of the incriminating photo of Theo and that woman had spread like wildfire through the party. While everyone pretended to know nothing.
Probably the only people who hadn’t known were her family.
The saving grace had been Christian and Elias leaving early for a planned Naval maneuver. The departure of the crown prince had sucked the air out of the event, and Genevieve had snuck out right after them.
Well, the ultimate saving grace was that Kelsey cared nothing for this new birthday they’d foisted on her. Genny vowed to make their private celebration in September even more fun to make up for Kelsey being such a good sport. After all, she’d worn high heels for three hours straight.
“I could take you shopping, Kelsey. Introduce you to the very best clothiers in the kingdom,” Ambra offered.
She wasn’t stretching out with them. She sat on the bench, scrolling through her phone. She’d agreed to a joint workout session but had been peeved to discover upon arrival that it was intended to be more of a self-defense practice session.
Genevieve and Kelsey took these sessions very seriously since the attempted assassination. Being prepared gave them a feeling of control over the unimaginable. Control was a way to beat back the fear.
Plus, Genny was in the mood to punch and kick a few things.
“Thanks, Ambra, but I don’t want the best.” Kelsey rubbed her hands together with a wicked glee. “I want the best bargain. The thrill of the score, you know?”
“You really still don’t understand what it means to be a princess, do you?” Ambra sniffed.
Two months ago, Genevieve would’ve snickered along s
oftly with her.
Not now.
Now, she wouldn’t allow anyone to sniff at her sister. Never again.
“Enough.” She shoved her hair out of her face. “I used to think that being a princess meant following every rule. Setting the perfect example for every little girl in the kingdom to follow.”
Ambra beamed at her. “And you do it beautifully.”
“All of my striving to be perfect didn’t make me happy, though. You know what does? Theo.”
That was enough to nudge her best friend off the bench to come over and give her a hug. “Fleeting happiness, at best. You can’t possibly overlook what he did. How he betrayed you.”
Kelsey scowled. “We don’t know that. Not for sure. Christian texted from his ship on Friday to say that Theo did nothing wrong and he’d explain when they finish their secret assignment and not to worry.”
“That’s…vague.”
Indeed. Christian had broken protocol to contact Genny at all while on the ship, so she couldn’t be peeved at the brevity of the message. Just…frustrated. And hopeful.
“In America, we’ve got this awesome code of people being innocent until proven guilty. It works very well.”
Ambra’s brown eyes narrowed. “My code is to protect Genevieve. Period.”
Genevieve wrestled on her knee pads. “I know I have massive trust issues. I’ve become disinclined, over the years, to give people who betray me a second chance. There’s simply too much at stake. But what Kelsey said at lunch the other day resonated with me.”
“The thing about how nachos are better breakup food than quinoa?”
Genevieve so admired Kelsey’s irrepressible bright spirit. Nothing forced, nothing fancy. Just a lightness of heart that brightened up the fusty old palace.
“We might need a side-by-side taste test to settle that one. No, I meant about how Theo’s actions spoke more loudly than the thousand words conveyed by that picture of him with that…floozy. Bimbo? Hard to tell which term captures her essence best,” she mused.
“Genevieve.” Ambra took her hands and squeezed. “He cheated on you!”
“No. We don’t know that,” Kelsey insisted.
“There’s proof splashed across every paper, every blog, every media site in the kingdom—and I heard it’s spread to Italy and Liechtenstein, too.”
Once the initial stab of betrayal had lessened—after all the crying and second-guessing—Genevieve had leaned toward hope. Hope that Kelsey was right. And then hope that Christian would fill in the missing pieces.
Most of all? Hope that Theo was, indeed, the upstanding, dependable, decent man she thought him to be. “What he did was share with me. So very much. He treated me—well, not like a princess. Theo treated me like a woman, like an equal. Those weren’t the actions of a man who wanted to humiliate me.”
“Even if he didn’t mean to, that picture is all over Europe. He has humiliated you.”
“No.” Genny pulled her hands free and glanced at the door, desperate for the promised update from Clara on the investigation. “Not unless he truly cheated. Only the person who sold that photo to the press is to blame for humiliating me.”
Ambra threw an arm behind herself, as if pointing at the spectre of Theo’s misdeeds. “You can’t blindly go back to him. It’s too great a risk. Your reputation is everything. Your spotless—until now—reputation has been the backbone of the House of Villani. It’s what will enable you to make a meaningful, important marriage.”
There it was again. Worry about the monarchy and how it would be affected by her decisions. Rather than concern for Genny’s own happiness.
She didn’t blame Ambra for that prioritization. Up until a few months ago, Genny’s primary concern had been exactly the same.
But it felt so much better to focus on happiness.
Not selfish happiness. She didn’t plan to auction off her dead mother’s crown on eBay just for kicks. She wouldn’t skip out on official duties on a whim to binge the next time the Olympics rolled around.
But Genevieve did plan to stop following everyone else’s expectations and set some of her own.
“I won’t blindly do anything. I’ve taken steps to get to the truth. The first step should’ve been listening to Theo. Letting him explain. That was a huge mistake. I only hope Theo will give me the chance to listen to him again.”
“You can’t mean that?”
Funny how every “can’t” Ambra spewed at her strengthened Genny’s resolve. “I’ve fallen for Theo so hard that, yes, I’m willing to take another chance on him. He’s worth fighting for. He’s worth bending the rules, making different choices.”
Kelsey did a reverse-curl fist-pump. “This is shaping up into one heck of a speech. Did you practice it in the shower or something?”
Damn it. How did she know?
Genny had always practiced her speeches in the shower. Why do it differently just because this wasn’t a speech to thank a group of volunteer firefighters for their service?
“It turns out that I’ve been holding in quite a few things. Theo helped me realize that it will not be the end of the world if I express my feelings a different way than perhaps is expected of a princess.”
Laughter gurgled out of her sister. “That’s the only way I know how to princess. Going my own way and letting the rest of the kingdom catch up. I could give you lessons.”
This time, it was Ambra who laughed out loud. “Give lessons? On being royal? Kelsey, I saw you crumple to the floor last week when you practiced your curtsey in front of those mirrors in the Great Hall.”
“Yes, well, the point is that I did practice. And I am getting better.” She dropped into a stellar, deep curtsey…albeit in bare feet. “I hear it takes ten thousand hours to master a new skill. I think I’ve curtseyed, in total, about three and a half. Tops.”
Genevieve picked up the red punching pad and slid it over her arm. “I’ve learned some valuable lessons already, from Theo. Worrying about everyone else’s expectations just kept me from living up to my own. Living in the shadow of my dead mother and missing sister kept me from fully stepping into my own light.”
She beckoned for Kelsey to start hitting. It felt good to absorb the impact of each punch. Felt good to push back.
It felt strong.
Raising her voice to be heard over the smacks of flesh against rubber, Ambra asked, “Are you having a nervous breakdown? You’re not going to go all wild like the Monaco royal family, are you? Their little principality is no shining example to follow, believe me. They’re less of a kingdom than even Luxembourg.”
“I don’t plan on racing speedboats. Or doing anything physically dangerous, for that matter.” A punch went wild, and Genny ducked. Well, nothing intentionally dangerous. “But I will let go—a little—of my control and follow my passion. For once.”
“By ‘passion,’ do you mean Theo?”
“Yes. If he can explain away the photo.”
Panting, Kelsey dropped her fists. “I thought you were investigating? You’re really just going to take his word for it?”
“Yes. He deserves a leap of faith.” Words she thought she’d never utter. But wasn’t love based in trust and faith? She had to give a little, too. “And I did do some investigating. Of the other photos. To find out who sold the pics of us on the boat.”
After a long, dramatic sigh, Ambra said, “I’m afraid you’ll just throw good money after bad, no matter how many bribes you offer the media. You know that none of them will give up their sources. Hasn’t the palace communications staff tried that route repeatedly? With zero success?”
“Correct. Which is why I went a different way.” She beckoned for Ambra to take Kelsey’s place on the mat and tossed the pad back against the wall.
Her bestie beamed as she squared off. “You’re so clever. Did you promise them invites to the Harvest
Ball?”
“I promised them something far more difficult to obtain. Access to me.”
“An exclusive interview? You don’t do that. Your father never has, Christian hasn’t…” Ambra’s mouth gaped wide in horror at the thought.
Which, admittedly, had been Genevieve’s immediate reaction as well, when the idea hit. The message had always been that the press was the enemy.
Until Genny decided to use them as a tool.
Giving an interview gave her control over it. Time to prepare, to choose what to reveal and not. The ability to use it to promote her own message, rather than random assumptions tacked onto unflattering, long-range photos of her in the palace garden.
“Like I said, I’m making my own decisions now. Not blindly following tradition.”
The door cracked opened. Clara popped her head in to give a tight-lipped nod. Then she raised one eyebrow in question. Genny shook her off. And the door creaked shut.
“It turns out that my brand of bribery is effective. Ultra effective. We identified the person who sold the information about my overnight at sea with Theo, as well as who hired a photographer to document it.”
In a move that would make their instructor Marko very, very proud, she knifed her leg forward to take Ambra’s feet out from under her. Ambra let out an oof of air as her butt hit the padding and her limbs splayed akimbo.
It felt spectacular.
“Genevieve, you didn’t warn me.” Ambra looked up at her with a scowl.
“And you didn’t warn me that you were selling my private moments to the world. Yet here we both are. Notice that I’m the one still standing.”
Kelsey rushed to her sister’s side. “What? This one? Your best friend is the leak?”
“Ex-best friend,” Genny corrected. She’d had the weekend to get used to the idea.
Because it took Clara and Marko barely any time at all to get at the first whisper of truth. They’d spent the last two days stacking confirmation upon confirmation. The whole scope of the investigation had changed from an effort to settle Genny’s mind to a collection of evidence that could be used to level a charge of treason.
Ruling the Princess Page 27
