CHAPTER 20

Cade's face flushed dark red as he processed the accusation. Trashy. Him. He hated Vivienne's simpering smile as she said it, the way the word seemed to bounce off the polished wood paneling. She had no right to call him that, not when she had done the same exact thing.

At least he was fully dressed.

But Cade just swallowed. It would be a very different thing for him to say the same to her.

Ellis shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms over her chest. What was there even to say? He wasn't going to apologize, and he certainly wasn't going to insult Vivienne back. Even if that was pretty sure what she wanted, someone to fight with.

"Well then," Andrew said. "We should probably be going. Have so much fun you two. Cade, try not to get anyone pregnant. I'll tell Helena you say hi."

With that he took Vivienne's hand and led her away. Cade wasn't quite sure if he was happy to see them go or not. Now he was in an even more awkward position and without a buffer.

"Don't listen to her," Ellis said quickly. "There's been worse."

"Sure," Cade mumbled. He didn't know what instance she was referring to, but a very specific one conjured in his mind.

He hadn't seen it of course. Vivienne and Andrew had been stupid, but not that stupid. What he had discerned from his father's fit of rage was that King Garrison had walked in on them together. In a compromising position. Or something. Cade didn't really know.

But whatever it was, it had been enough for the tenuous plans surrounding Cade and Vivienne's engagement to be immediately broken. Had been enough for Cade's father to declare him useless, he couldn't even be married off. They would all be better off if he disappeared.

Then, not a week later, his parents got in that car crash. They were dead before Cade got the chance to ask his father if he really meant it. He didn't, Cade was sure. King Garrison had been furious when he found out Cade's ties to the rebels, shouted at him for hours, had him locked in his room, forced him to abdicate, but he never turned Cade in.

King Garrison said it was because Cade wasn't of any use to him dead. At least this way he could be a bargaining chip in an alliance. At the time, Cade had been so young and so scared that he believed him. Now, he was old enough to recognize he was protecting him.

And of course Cade had taken that for granted. Like so many other things in his life.

Ellis spoke again softly, "I did really like Princess Vivienne's dress

Cade just ducked his head. "We should go back in."

Ellis' smile faltered then she nodded. "Oh. Of course. Yes."

The party was still in full swing. Uncle Albert was chatting with Pamela and Charlotte. Martha Chambers was speaking quietly with Catalina. Nobody had noticed his absence. He wasn't sure if anyone in this room (Uncle Albert and Aunt Morgan excluded) would even care if he disappeared. Some would probably prefer it.

Ellis curtsied to him. "I should go find my father."

Cade nodded wordlessly as he watched her go.

He didn't want to be here. He hated things like this. He had spoken with enough people. He had made the appropriate rounds. His attendance had been recorded. He shouldn't give into this, but he couldn't try any more. Not today. It felt like chipping away at a brick wall.

Before he could change his mind he went up to Uncle Albert and told him he had a migraine. Uncle Albert, with the predictable amount of concern, advised him to go to bed to rest. What was the difference anyway?

Cade woke up the next morning to three text messages. The first was from Lana, canceling their session today. She didn't cite a reason. She didn't have to. The second was from Andrew. It was a link to an article explaining safe sex.

Cade didn't bother answering. He didn't even know what he would say. Thanks for the advice?

The third was an email from George Hyde. Right. He had a date today. With Nora Louise. Cade had his butler send a note to her telling her to be ready at two, and although he was sure that either Andrew or Vivienne had received an identical email, he had one sent to them too.

It was late, nearly nine-thirty. Cade didn't usually sleep in. Breakfast was one of the few meals without compulsory attendance for the selected, and as such, most didn't usually go. Cade always tried to, even if it was only for a few minutes, even if the room was mostly empty.

But by the time he showered, changed into acceptable clothes, and made his way to the dining room, most of the food had already been cleared.

"There's still some pastries," Catalina, the only other one in the room, said.

There were, although they were filled with jelly, Cade's least favorite. He put one on his plate anyway and walked over to Catalina. He was lucky enough for there to be a kitchen staff to serve him whatever he wanted later, but Catalina was a six; he shouldn't flaunt that.

"How are you?"

Caade sighed, "I'm alright. It's been busy."

Catalina smiled understandingly, her cheeks dimpling, "I'm sure. I can't imagine everything you must do in a day. It's a wonder you find time to eat."

God, if only she knew everything he was supposed to be doing. Instead of the boring, meaningless tasks he found his days filled with. "Well, I like eating, so I schedule it in."

"Good."

"How about you? You're at breakfast late." Cade asked.

"So are you, but I was up late last night. I met so many different politicians and advisors, I just wanted to be sure I remembered all their names."

"Do you? Remember their names I mean? Not that you wouldn't just that…"

"More or less. I found an online page with them all. Then I had to work on an essay Princess Vivienne assigned. I'm not sure how good it turned out, but I suppose this isn't real school anyway."

Cade nodded as a butler poured him his coffee. "I heard about that. You all got different countries, right?"

"I have Russia."

"How is it?"

Catalina pressed her lips together and smiled. "It's, well, it's alright. You know, there's so much information about Russia, but they also have such a long history."

They did. Although Russia was one of the few countries that had survived all three world wars, it barely resembled itself. "Yeah. I can imagine."

"I'm happy to be learning at any rate. I was homeschooled so this is actually my first time in a classroom."

Cade took a sip of his orange juice. "You were? I mean, not that you weren't, just that it's uncommon for…" he trailed off before he couldn't insult her.

Catalina didn't seem phased. "A six. I know."

"Your parents must have really valued your education." The public education system wasn't bad per se, plenty of fours and threes went. Andrew's friend Helena had even gone to a public school before transferring to Wake Field Academy and that girl was rich as could be. It was just uncommon for sixes to have enough time on their hands to teach their children.

"Not exactly. My parents died a long time ago. A very nice family took me in, twos, the woman I work for. She oversaw my education."

"Took you in?"

"Yes, well, it's complicated. The woman always wanted a daughter and I was the closest thing." Cade didn't know what to say to that very strange story. Catalina must have seen the confusion on his face because she hurried to explain. "They're wonderful people and I truly am grateful to them. They allowed me to have a life very few of my caste can."

Cade nodded quickly. "Yes. of course. They seem very nice." And slightly classist, but that was besides the point.

"I know it's weird," Catalina hedged.

"No, no. It's not."

"It is. You don't have to lie." She fidgeted with the fork as she waited for Cade's answer.

"Well. You know. That's life." Cade stuttered grasping for some comforting thing to say.

Catalina giggled. "That's life. Well, I can't be the only one with an odd story or two. You have centuries of powerful people in your family. There must be something interesting."

Cade put down his danish thinking for something interesting. "You could put this in your essay I guess. It's not very…well I suppose it's not hard to find out…but my Aunt Morgan is distantly related to the Romanovs." He explained how a second marriage, fleeing a few countries, and smuggled diamond necklaces lead to nearly two hundred years later Aunt Morgan yelling at Andrew for ignoring his ancestry after he unknowingly suggested watching the Rasputin movie.

After returning to his room to have his butler make him look camera-ready, Cade stood outside Nora Louise's room to pick her up for their double date.

She smiled as she opened the door, wearing a long floral dress and her usual bow, this one a dark blue velvet. "Hi!"

"Hi."

"How are you?" she asked, still standing in the doorway of her room. From what Cade could see it looked like one of the standard guest suites with the light green upholstery and white paint.

"Good. Well, honestly, I'm tired. It was a long night." Cade answered as they walked down the hallway, to the staircase where he told Vivienne and Andrew to meet them, just in case the newspaper wanted photos of them walking out of the palace.

Nora Louise nodded solemnly. "Yeah. It was. But I'm so excited for this picnic! Even though I know it was the chairman's idea," she added as an afterthought.

Cade thought he had hidden his displeasure at Hyde's idea well, but clearly, it hadn't been well enough. "Yes. Uhm, no, it'll still be fun."

Nora Louise shrugged, "If you say so. Well, how was the rest of your night? You disappeared after your cousin and Princess Vivienne left."

Cade hadn't really anticipated anyone noticing that. "There was something I had to take care of."

Nora Louise beamed, "Oooh! A super secret government spy operation? A secret meeting? A covert rescue operation?"

"Uhm, something like that," Cade winced.

"You know, I read a book once, a murder mystery where the detective always disappeared. Guess who was the killer in the end."

"Am I the detective in this scenario? I haven't killed anyone, I swear." Was that true? Of course it was.

"Okay. I believe you," Nora Louise giggled, reaching to fix the bow in her hair.

Andrew was standing there, waiting. On time, but by himself. He looked up from his phone when he heard their footsteps. "Hey."

"Hi!" Nora Louise chirped. "Ohmigod, how are you? It was such a late night yesterday, I'm still pretty tired. What about you?"

Andrew didn't answer for a few moments, "...I'm good."

"Where's Vivienne? We're supposed to be down soon." Cade asked.

"Uhm, she's coming. I think. She's pretty hungover but I gave her a few Ibuprofens."

"Hungover?" Nora Louise asked. "Like from alcohol?"

Andrew shot Cade a questioning, is this girl serious, glance. "Uh, yes."

"Oh. Yeah, duh, that makes sense. I totally get that. When I go to parties people get really hungover too so…"

"Really?" Disbelief colored Andrew's words. "You go to lots of parties?" Cade didn't appreciate Andrew's tone, and seeing as he wasn't a particularly honest person on a good day, he didn't know why Andrew felt the need to choose this moment to forgo his usual calm half-truths.

"Yes, well, sometimes. I was the president of the baking club at my high school so I hosted all of our meetings and oh! Here comes Vivienne!" Both Nora Louise and Andrew looked equally relieved at that revelation.

Vivienne looked better than Cade had expected. Blond hair smooth against her back and two-inch heels. Pale, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for her. She nodded her greetings to the three, avoiding Cade's eyes, understandable after the events of last night, but unnecessary. Cade wasn't mad. Not anymore at least.

Andrew clapped his hands together and started walking towards the ballroom. The back patio stretched into the gardens where the picnic, film crew, and cameras had been stationed.

"Hyde mentioned that the food was catered from a bakery in L.A" Cade muttered as they stalled by the glass doors, waiting for the crew to adjust the lighting and motion them to walk out.

"Aww," Nora Louise cooed. "I would have made cinnamon buns if I had time."

"Oh. Yeah, I'm sorry, I forgot about that, but we should make them sometime soon," Cade said, suddenly remembering his promise to her on the playground.

Vivienne clucked her tongue disapprovingly but otherwise stayed silent.

"You told Hyde I'm a vegan right?" Andrew asked

Cade blinked. "Um, no, I didn't. And you're not one."

"I'm thinking about converting. Do you know how bad milk is for you?"

Vivienne humphed. "Do not listen to him. He is being difficult today."

"Okay, rude."

Nora Louise gave a fake laugh and Cade didn't really say anything. They had reached the ballroom anyway and some of the production crew was waiting for them there.

A burly man in a black t-shirt and baseball cap approached them, giving a quick bow before beginning to rattle of instructions. "We want to capture audio and video, so I have some scripts for you. Try to sound natural. We'll do a few takes on the back patio walking towards the picnic," he went on for a while longer, explaining the filming, the stationary photos, and all the other requirements of them.

Cade tried not to be annoyed. This whole date, double date, whatever it was, had been conceived for the sole purpose of interesting television. It wasn't going to be romantic. It probably wouldn't even be enjoyable. But that was his life and he couldn't go down that train of thought right now.

Andrew leafed through the script muttering ridiculous under his breath before handing it over to Vivienne. It really was very simple. Standard small talk, mostly about Nora Louise, and because it had gone through the council, plenty about Andrew. Not even half of it would probably make the final cut. Who even knew if there would be any video deemed usable.

It took four tries before they were even allowed to sit at the picnic. Whoever had been in charge of set up had done an incredible job. The pastel colors with the scattered roses were striking, it probably would have been a lovely date.

Well, it still could be. After the filming finished of course, when they were allowed to speak freely. Or at least, a little free-er.

Cade could tell Nora Louise was nervous. He squeezed her hand as the director gave the signal.

"I've always wanted to bake scones like these," she started. Cade gave the appropriate response and they ran through the script. Whoever had written it must have done a crash course on Nora Louise. It hit all the major information; siblings, parents, hobbies, schooling.

Honestly, Nora Louise sounded a little forced. Which made sense. Although the script was well-written, it wasn't her. He certainly couldn't judge. Cade didn't know how much better he sounded. Predictably, Andrew delivered his lines with a casual ease.

Vivienne didn't speak. Her publicists probably wouldn't allow it. Cade sometimes got the feeling that the French were the biggest fans of any of Illéa's policies.

The whole thing took hours. By the time they were finally pronounced finished, Cade was starving.

"That was fun!" Nora Louise exclaimed brightly once they finished.

"Sure," Vivienne answered.

"I can't believe I'm actually going to be on television! I mean, I know we've been on the Reports and all but we never really got to speak, so this is sort of my first time."

"I spoke to the chairman about that. He wants to start using the selected more during the filming."

"Ohmigod. Exciting!" Nora Louise exclaimed.

Cade laughed before turning his attention to the picnic basket. "What looks good?" he asked her. She was the only one paying attention anyway. Andrew and Vivienne were fussing with something on his phone.

"Those are cheesecake tartlets. They're delicious," Nora Louise said.

"Have you ever made them?"

Nora Louise beamed as Cade took a bite. "I thought you knew I've made everything. Name any dessert and I bet you I've at least tried to bake it."

"Carrot cake?"

"Of course!"

"Strawberry tarts?"

"Yup."

"Tiramisu?"

"Finally! Bro my speaker was taking forever." Andrew cut in, pushing a blue pill-shaped speaker to the center of the picnic blanket. Strains of some soft rock song was coming from it.

Vivienne wrinkled her nose. "What is this?"

"Come off of it, it's good. It's Billy Joel. You like him, remember?" Andrew said, raising the volume on the speaker.

"I don't like rock music," Vivienne complained, pursing her lips.

"Yeah, well, Cade hates country so,"

"I don't mind it," Cade spoke up.

Andrew handed her his phone, "here, put on what you want." Vivienne took it and Andrew switched his gaze to Nora Louise.

"So, Nora, how's the selection been going for you?"

Cade wanted to shove his head through a wall. Unfortunately, they were in a garden so there were no walls in sight. Andrew couldn't seriously be bringing this up now. Here. With Cade sitting two feet away. Having seen what he saw last night.

Nora Louise pursed her lips. "It's Nora Louise. Not Nora. Two words"

"Really? It's not a middle name?" Nora Louise shook her head. "Huh. I always assumed it was."

"Well, it's not."

"Okay. Nora Louise, how's the selection? You guys having…fun?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's definitely been educational, and it's great getting to know everyone."

Andrew whistled softly, "Damn. Cade, you mean you haven't kissed her yet? They're all locked in this palace. Might as well give them a story."

Cade cringed. He could feel the flush spilling over his face. It was a good thing the cameras had left already. He had a feeling that this was not a very handsome look for him. "That's not really what this is…what we…the point."

"So you expect to fall in love by talking?"

"I don't know…"

"I mean, I'm not judging you," Andrew laughed. "Do what you want obviously. You've never taken my advice before."

"It's usually not very good," Cade muttered under his breath, frustration rising to the surface. He knew, he knew, this wasn't the place to do it. Not with Nora Louise sitting two feet to his left and Vivienne judging every word out of his mouth. He didn't seem like it, but Andrew had surprisingly thin skin when it came to things like this. Cade knew better than to snap back at him.

God, he knew, but sometimes he really hated Andrew. He hated how he coasted through life with no consequences. He hated how everyone threw themselves at him. He hated how the council, the country, the whole world loved him. He hated how everything seemed to work out for him in a way it never worked out for Cade.

Andrew had the loving parents. He had the luxurious life. He had the endless supply of friends. He had the girl that Cade was supposed to marry.

He always pushed Cade. He liked to mess with people. Cade's father had always said Andrew had a problem with respecting authority. He still did. This was a clear example; agreeing to the date, the camera, the interviews, and now, deciding to embarrass Cade simply because he was bored and Vivienne wasn't giving him enough attention.

"Oh, and you're so great?" Andrew answered.

"I didn't mean-"

"Sure. I don't really care what you meant." Probably for Nora Louise's benefit Andrew took a breath and turned away. "Viv, I forgot something. Will you come with me?"

Vivienne's eyes flickered up from the phone. "What did you…oh. Sure. We will be right back," she said, taking Andrew's hand and ushering him away.

"Sorry," Cade blurted out the minute they were out of earshot. "I shouldn't have said anything. Just pretend that didn't…I don't know…"

"It's not your fault," Nora Louise said. "He was being rude."

"Yeah, but I know he's sensitive with stuff like that. I usually try to let it go. He means well. Most of the time. I don't know."

Nora Louise fixed her bow. She didn't say anything for a few long moments. "Well, you know. I think he was right about one thing."

"What."

"You don't fall in love by talking."

Cade froze, looking at her face. Her lips were shiny, her thick dark hair was ever so curly. This time, he leaned in first, pressing his lips to her's. They were soft and puffy and wonderful.

Somewhere, vaguely, he thought of Vivienne and Andrew walking back and witnessing this again, but they were probably pressed against a wall somewhere anyway, so really, who was Andrew or Vivienne to judge.

This was still his date and he might as well enjoy it.

Andrew's arm was around her shoulders as he gently steered them towards his room.

Vivienne loved that about him.

She was always the one in charge, the one giving directions, the one who had the ultimate say (aside of course from her father, but he was often too busy to bother). The advisors and the cabinet members and the staff all constantly sought her approval before acting. She had to always be weighing options and planning and vetoing and deciding.

Andrew didn't do any of that. He should; decorum dictated that he would defer to her in all matters because she was going to be the Queen of France and he was just going to be her husband. Even when they had first met years ago, Andrew was some miscellaneous minor royal and Vivienne was known around the world, he still didn't wait for her to act first.

It was like a weight was off her shoulders. Someone else could finally make a decision. It didn't all rest on her.

"That was fun," Andrew remarked as he pushed his door open. His room was in better shape then the last time Vivienne had been inside. The suitcases were all put away instead of in piles on the floor.

"Nora Louise is a sweet girl. You should be nicer," Vivienne answered.

"I was plenty nice."

Vivienne just pressed her lips together.

He sighed. "Cade's mad at me."

"Yes. He is."

"Whatever. I don't know. Do you really see her and Cade being a thing?"

"Sure. Why not?" Vivienne asked.

"She's just so…nice. And he's so…Cade. Can you imagine them trying to decide where to eat dinner."

Vivienne crossed her arms as she sat on his bed. "They would throw a coin."

"Flip. It's flip. Or I guess you could say toss," Andrew said as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. He turned to go get a different one from his closet.

"Okay, be that way," Vivienne called after him.

"I will be," came his muffled voice from the closet.

"I do not like you."

That wasn't true. Of course it wasn't. From the moment Vivienne had seen him, at that awful dinner party when they were eighteen, she had known there was no one she liked better. It scared her a little. He was so perfect. He checked every box a girl could want and a princess needed.

He was royal, well-connected enough to ensure an alliance with Illéa, but not so high-born that he would damage the line of succession. The media loved him and he had no problems speaking with them, no annoying qualms about privacy. He was handsome and charismatic. Six-foot two. Funny and patient and always willing to put her first.

There would be no replacement. No other prince or duke that Vivienne had ever met made her feel the way that Andrew did. Valued. Special. And those actors in the movies Vivienne sometimes watched would never be beneficial to France.

"Did I tell you," Andrew started, sitting next to her on the bed, "about my idea?"

"Tell me what?" Vivienne leaned her head against his shoulder. His t-shirt was soft against her face.

"I don't know. I guess it's kinda stupid. I'm probably not going to do it."

"Do what?"

"I've just been thinking. I don't want to sit around here for four months doing nothing. I was thinking of applying to a few master's programs."

"Huh. Really?"

Andrew tensed, and Vivienne realized just how judgmental her response had sounded. "It was just an idea. We'll see."

Vivienne grabbed his hand, "No, no, it is a good idea. You should do it. Why not?"

Andrew's hand was warm in her's. His thumb brushed over her palm, the touch light and gentle. It gave Vivienne that warm feeling of happiness, like her heart had been replaced by a ball of sun.

"I wouldn't be able to finish it in Illéa. Maybe I could do online classes," Andrew mused.

"What is wrong with the universities in France? We have some very good ones."

"Nothing. But I think I would like a Harvard degree. It would look pretty nice hanging over the fireplace."

He deserved one. Vivienne would like one, she would have liked to go to college, but she didn't deserve it, not in the way Andrew did. He was modest, but naturally her father had all sorts of records pulled when they had gotten engaged. Vivienne had seen them; his standardized tests scores were off-the-charts, hundreds of hours volunteering, tutoring, and coaching. It was like he was meant to be a Prince Consort.

Of course, there were the other things that the investigation had dug up. Things that Andrew also hadn't mentioned. Three failed drug tests A long concerning history of casual flings. An unexplained hospitalization that Vivienne was pretty sure was alcohol poisoning.

Whether his silence was intentional or not, she didn't know. Maybe this was so far in the past he never thought of it. That was what Vivienne chose to believe. She had gone with him to plenty of parties, and she had never seen him do anything harder than weed.

It would look terrible for the Prince Consort of France to have a drug problem.

It would be one thing for a barely-royal (he wasn't even the spare, not really) to have a checkered path. That was understood, expected even. But nobody wanted their leader, or even their leader's spouse, to be regularly doped up.

Frankly, Vivienne was surprised at how tight-lipped the information was kept. She didn't even think that Cade knew. He would probably leak it to the papers, that's how desperate he was to be king.

"Bonne idée," she murmured, her head still resting against his chest. He turned, kissing her forehead gently.

"You're so beautiful."

She wasn't really, but somehow she believed it when Andrew said it.

They stayed that way for a while, her head laying on his chest, his hand making dizzying patterns along her arms. She could feel his muscles through his shirt. She knew they were a product of boredom, he didn't have anything else to do but go to the gym, but Vivienne wasn't complaining.

Frankly, most princesses married very ugly princes. That wasn't a judgment, but a fact. Except Illéa, where the king had the whole country to choose from, royalty was made up of a constantly dwindling gene pool.

Andrew seemed to have defied the odds on that one. But he always managed to defy the odds.

He pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Ok. You know who I heard from today?"

"Who?" Andrew's hand was still tracing her arm. She loved the way it felt. She loved him.

"Gabriel."

Vivienne wrinkled her nose. "Gabriel? My brother?"

"Mmhm."

"Why did my twelve-year-old brother call you? How does he even have your phone number?"

"Oh, I gave it to him, last time I visited you. He wanted me to play battleship with him. I lost, obviously."

That seemed plausible. Gabriel was in his video game phase, and Marcel never liked to play as much as him. It was one of the few instances where the twins differed. They were so much alike that even Vivienne had called them each by the wrong name once or twice.

"What did he say?"

"He's really excited to come visit. He wants me to take him to a basketball game."

Vivienne pulled away, looking Andrew in the eye. He seemed surprised by her sudden seriousness. "What do you mean by 'come visit'?"

"I guess your dad decided to bring them when he visits in a few weeks."

She could hear her heart in her chest, pounding against her ribcage. It was an unsettling rhythm, the quick thumps. She felt sick. So sick. What would she do? What did she possibly have to say for herself? Her face burned.

"Aw, was it supposed to be a surprise? I'm really sorry, I thought you knew already."

"No I did not. I did not know." She probably resembled a cherry. Her eyes felt hot. She couldn't cry. Not in front of Andrew. What possible explanation would she have for her reaction?

"I am sorry. I need to go. I will be right back."

Vivienne ran across the hall into her room. The phone rang three times before her father picked up.

"Vivienne. It is four in the morning," cam her father's displeased voice. Oh, God.

"Yes. I am sorry. I forgot."

"Sure. What is so important Vivienne?"

"Papa…Papa why did you not tell me you are coming to Illéa?"

Her father didn't answer for a few long moments. Vivienne's heart raced as she waited for his response "I believe I told you that we could not afford to make an enemy of the council? Yet, what I see is you helping the selected, who you know they despise by the way, befriending those girls, and please correct me if I am wrong, but leaving their event early to go to a C-list actress' houseparty?"

The words dried up on Vivienne's tongue. She only managed a small sound of affirmation.

"I thought so. I am not against you having a social life, but Vivienne, please. You know about the trade agreement that was to be enacted after your wedding? I received a new draft of it this morning. It's insulting." Her father must have read in some parenting manual shortly after Vivienne's mother's death that a father should never raise his voice at his daughter because Papa had never once yelled at her. His calm voice of disappointment was so much worse.

"I am sorry. I will talk to them. Apologize."

"You will not do anything. I'm going to fix this. We are going to make it clear that whoever the next king is, we will be supportive. That is what they want."

"But Papa-"

"Vivienne. We cannot survive buts." Her father paused for a moment then added in a gentler tone, "Andrew will still marry you. Don't worry."

Worry. Right. That's what the unsettling feeling in her stomach was.