She is Moncriano. And you will respect her not only as third in line to the crown, but as a strong, brave, smart woman.”
Silence thickened the air. Hopefully the shock was at that idiot speaking so out of turn, and not at Christian asserting his authority.
After looking up and down the long table and not getting so much as an eye flicker of support, the man stood to bow deeply at the waist. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. It was an inconsiderate remark.”
“Indeed. Not to mention the biggest mistake of your career.” Christian jerked his head toward the door. “Now get out.”
Half crouched to reseat himself, he froze, braced on the table. “I’m sorry, Your Highness?”
“Oh, I’ll bet you are now. You heard me. You’re dismissed.”
“You can’t fire me. I’m the minister of climate change.”
Thank God. Christian had wondered—a split second too late—what role the pissant held. “Then you should be able to sense that change is in the air. That’s an appointed post, not an elected one. So I’m within my rights to demand that it be vacated. I will not have someone on this council who does not respect the Crown and all who represent it.”
He’d wanted to yell.
Hell, he’d wanted to blacken his eye.
But Christian remembered all the debriefing sessions at his father’s side after council meetings. The king had taught him that cold steel was more powerful and cutting than uncontrollable fire. A calm, measured threat or pronouncement could strike far more fear than something that could later be labeled a tantrum.
Sure enough, it only took a moment before the ex-minister stiff-legged it out of the room. Christian looked at Elias expecting a fist pump. Instead he got a subtle go on gesture.
Ah. Crap. Right.
He leaned back against the high, velvet-covered wood of the chair and gripped the carved arms. “I am more than willing to repeat this exercise with any and every one on this council. I would, of course, prefer that it not be necessary. And that if you hear of any such disrespect being accorded to any member of the House of Villani, or those in our circle,” he added, thinking to also quash the rumblings he’d heard of some nobility being unhappy with a bodyguard dating their princess, “I expect you will excise it as cleanly as what you just witnessed.”
A ripple of yes, indeed, of course Your Highnesses circled the table. While shock was still evident, Christian was positive there was a layer of admiration on top of it. He’d take that as his win for the day.
Letting himself slump into a more comfortable position, Christian picked up his water glass. “Let’s resume. Lord Chamberlain, what is the point of this unscheduled meeting for which I received no agenda?”
“We believe that it is time for you to ascend to the throne.”
Holy fuck, they were actually doing this.
Kai had danced around the possibility with him. But Kai knew the full extent to which Christian had been covering for his father. The Privy Council, at best, knew maybe half of it. Which made this even more dire.
But Christian knew there was only one response possible. He set the glass back down and stated clearly yet calmly, “Moncriano has a king.”
“No, it doesn’t. Not for several months now.”
How was this happening already? “King Julian has been indisposed, it’s true. But he’s ruled for more than three decades. I’d say that affords him a few months of sabbatical.”
The secretary of state was a whip-smart woman he’d enjoyed dancing with at the ball a week ago. They’d debated the differences between nationalism and neutrality. Christian counted her as a friend. So when she spoke, her tone was softer. As though apologetic for holding his feet to the fire on the issue.
“Your Highness, people are talking. His absence has been noticed. Repeatedly. His absence at social and governmental events. From everything as big as the Persephone Ball to those as small as the summer barbeque for the palace staff.”
Damn it.
Kelsey had stood in at the barbeque. They’d reasoned that she was still such a new and exciting commodity it might distract everyone into thinking it was a treat that she’d attended, rather than a cover-up of the king’s absence.
Obviously, it hadn’t worked.
He had to buy time. Time to figure out what to do. Time to talk to his father.
No, to get his father to talk to him. Time to absorb the enormity of what they asked.
“King Julian has been a good ruler. A popular ruler. And when there’ve