lips. “I will do an interview with The London News. But the interesting thing is, I know other people who are going to go on the record with stories of your cruel, vindictive behaviour towards some of the most popular members of the royal family. Including members of the family, Your Majesty.”
I swear, I see a crease form in her brow. I take a sip of tea.
“Because according to public opinion polls, the modern royals, the younger royals, are usurping you in popularity. That is not going to go away. As royal weddings happen and children are born, your grip on the top spot will fade. Will the public take so kindly to stories about a power-hungry queen being cruel to her own family? Bullying? Willing to rip happiness away from her sons to appease her own selfish objectives?”
I put my cup down. She stares at me in shock.
Do it now, my head tells me. Play the card.
“I have palace insiders who are willing to speak of your behaviour because they are disgusted by it and feel guilty for watching it happen for years. But those people shall remain nameless. The most interesting thing, in my consulting of other family members, is who is willing to go on the record and sit down in front of a camera and rip the curtain off your illusion of perfection. Including your own sons. Your nieces. Your future daughter-in-law. And Princess Helene.”
Queen Antonia pales.
“You would never do that,” she says, but her voice is uncertain. “That would hurt the family. That could end the monarchy.”
“No, but it would damage and tarnish you. Sure, we’d all take hits, the public outcry would be tremendous, sides would be chosen. But these interviews won’t happen if you stop planting stories about all of us. Not just me, but Liz and Clementine. Your days of bullying are over.”
“What if I call your bluff?” she challenges.
“You don’t want to do that,” I say, keeping my voice level. “Because what we have to say will forever destroy your image. You have hurt a lot of people who are sick and tired of it. Your image of the perfect, loving queen will be destroyed the second that story hits social media and TV. It will be worldwide news, and you will be the one doing the damage to the monarchy you love above everything else. You know, as well as I do, that bullying is no longer tolerated in this world. And being a bully is not something you want associated with your name, now is it? In a world where you are in a position to lift other women up and inspire them? How would your adoring public feel when they learn how you treat your own family behind palace gates? It won’t end well for you. I know it. And more to the point, you know it, too.
“But this is your choice,” I continue. “I know better than to ask that you be kind to me. You will never respect me. But you will have to exist with me, and you will never attack me or anyone in your family again. Or this will happen. Of that, I can assure you.”
She stares at me suspiciously. “How do I even know you have this interview set up?”
I retrieve my phone, which I left sitting out on the coffee table. I swipe it open and retrieve the text messages between me and Clarissa Charles, the royal reporter for The London News.
“This phone number should look familiar to you,” I say, walking over to her and showing her my mobile. “As you can see, it’s Clarissa’s number. Your press team at the palace should easily be able to verify it.”
Queen Antonia goes white. “My God,” she whispers.
“Now, Xander and I are still going to talk to her, but it can be a brief confirmation of our relationship, or we can tell our story, along with everyone else around you chiming in about your bullying and backstabbing. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And if you think the rest of the world is going to ignore this family drama, you’re wrong. They live for it.”
I have never seen her look so defeated. Her face falls. She swallows hard.
And in this moment, I know I have won.
“So, do we have an understanding of what interview I will be giving tomorrow?”
Queen Antonia blinks. Her hands grip her clutch so tightly, I swear I can see her knuckles turn white.