Throne Away Read online

  “I understand.”

  “You can sleep in Amara’s room. She’s with your sister this week.” Thank the lord for that small miracle. I couldn’t begin to imagine how this would’ve played out had she been home.

  With a timid nod, Carly stepped around me and left the room. I refused to turn around, knowing that if I saw her, I’d make this situation worse. Seeing her act like a victim would’ve pushed me over the edge, and I couldn’t afford to do that right now. I had to play this smart.

  I had to do the right thing.

  Hate, betrayal, rage, and compassion flooded my system, and I needed to do something to at least quiet the chaos in my head. I couldn’t sort through my thoughts and feelings if every emotion I’d experienced over the last ten months attacked me all at once. Unfortunately, taking a shower didn’t help—if anything, it made it worse. The TV completely failed at distracting me. And the thought of leaving my bedroom and seeing her only amped up the hate and betrayal I felt inside.

  Finally, I grabbed my laptop and camera from my closet, hoping that maybe a little editing might do the trick. Normally, I didn’t touch photos if I was upset; I wouldn’t be able to look at the images with an artistic mind. But I didn’t have much of a choice tonight. It was either this or spend hours working myself up. So I sat on my bed and proceeded to go through the pictures I’d taken last night.

  As I clicked through the images on my computer screen, weeding out which ones to keep and which ones to trash, I came across one that immediately caught my attention. I zoomed the image in and leaned closer to the monitor to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.

  I’d told Moira that I hadn’t taken her picture, because I honestly thought I hadn’t. However, I now realized that I’d somehow captured her without realizing it. It was an image of the sky, the colors more muted than in the previous photos. There was nothing else in the image other than Moira, who stood against the peer in the corner of the frame, her face turned to the side just enough to show her profile. She held her hands to her chest, meaning this had probably been taken moments before she’d lost her brother’s hat.

  The image was dim, but with a few clicks of the mouse, I was able to brighten it enough to notice the milky color of her complexion. Unfortunately, she had her back to the camera—and stood too far away—for me to have captured the color of her eyes. It was something I hadn’t noticed until we were sat across from each other in the café. They were the clearest blue I’d ever seen, and her lashes were jet black. Another thing that wasn’t as noticeable in the photo as in real life was the color of her hair. It was blond on the computer screen, yet it lacked the strawberry tint that was evident in the light.

  Even with all of that, it was enough to prove what I’d said last night. Having her in the photo did take the focus away from the pastel colors of the sky. It was impossible to notice the natural beauty of the sunset when she stood within the frame.

  I found myself wishing the picture had sound. That way, I would’ve been able to hear her hypnotic accent. There were hints of Irish, Scottish, and British in her words. And every now and then, I could almost pick up what I assumed to be Spanish inflections, like the way she rolled some of her Rs.

  I happened to notice the clock in the corner of the screen. Somehow, I’d managed to lose track of time while editing the photo of Moira. I had no idea what time it was when I’d started, but it was now after one in the morning. As much as I didn’t want to, I knew I had to put the computer away—or at least Moira’s picture. If I had any hope of having a mature conversation with Carly tomorrow, I’d have to get some sleep, and that wouldn’t happen if I continued to stare at the screen.

  Moira had offered me a reprieve from reality.

  But that reprieve was officially over.

  Chapter 3

  Moira

  I had started to believe that Cinderella and I had more in common than I thought.

  That is, if you could look past the whole servant thing. As well as the evil stepsisters, fairy godmother, and adoring prince aspects. But all that aside, the little cinder girl and I were like two peas in a royal pod.

  “Why do I have to attend this meeting anyway?” I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting and then readjusting my dress for no other reason than I just didn’t want to wear it. “It has nothing to do with me.”

  My mother came up from behind to button the back for me. “It’ll decide the future of Ilunabarra, which is your country. So yes, it has everything to do with you.” Once she finished with the buttons, she held onto my shoulders and met my stare in the mirror. “Now, drop the attitude and be the polite princess your people believe you to be.”

  There were times I wished I had a hateful stepmother who’d lock me in the basement.

  And this was one of those times.

  “I don’t know why you feel the need to tell me this so often. Have I ever given the public reason to think that I am anything less than polite?” Even when I was caught dancing on a table several years ago, I had made sure the goods were covered. Plus, I specifically remembered thanking the bloke who had helped me down. Although, I wasn’t daft enough to use that to argue my point to my mother. “Trust me, no one will be the wiser to my disgruntled thoughts.”

  She practically rolled her eyes at me. For a woman who could teach an etiquette class, she didn’t always act like it. Then again, there was a good chance I was simply her Achilles heel. I had managed to visibly ruffle her feathers more times than I could count.

  “Just remember…let the council and elders handle the details. All you need to do is sit there and show your support. Silently.” She arched one brow at me. “I mean it, Moira Katherine Bernadette Coldwell. You are not to speak unless directly addressed. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Mother. I understand you.” And then, under my breath, I added, “What’s new?”

  Unfortunately, she’d heard me. But rather than reprimand me, she shook her head in a blatant show of disappointment and moved toward the door. “Someone will be by shortly to get you. Please, do not make him wait.”

  And with that, she was gone.

  I collapsed into a chair and stared out the floor-to-ceiling window that faced the ocean. The rolling waves made me think of my trip to the States. More accurately, it reminded me of my evening on the pier and the man I’d met. Ryan. I hated that I wasn’t able to meet up with him again the next night—thanks to my security team, who flew me home as soon as they’d found me.

  It had been three and a half weeks since that night, yet I still couldn’t think of him without regret swelling in my chest like an inflating balloon. I could just picture him showing up to the pier the following evening and waiting for me. I realized there was a good chance he hadn’t waited long—if at all—but there were moments when the thought of him thinking I’d stood him up left me completely ridden with guilt.

  “Knock, knock,” Elizabeth, my cousin, called out as she opened the door.

  “I still have no idea why you do that, Libby.” I couldn’t help but laugh at her. She’d been doing the same thing since we were teenagers. “Saying knock, knock doesn’t make inviting yourself in any more polite. Nor does it make it any less rude.”

  She giggled as she took the cushioned chair across from me. “Well, I certainly wasn’t about to stand in the hallway and wait for you to let me in. I know you well enough to automatically assume that you’re in a pissy mood.”

  Libby looked the part of a princess—always had. She was prim, she was proper, and as long as I wasn’t around, she was the quintessential beauty queen. Everything she said sounded like a rehearsed speech…unless we were together. That was when she was most relaxed. Unfortunately, we didn’t spend as much time with one another as we used to. Being the same age, we were attached at the hip growing up. But now, I was lucky if I got to see her more than six times a year.

  “I am being forced to attend a royal hearing…of course I am not happy about it.”

  “It’ll b
e okay, Mo,” she said, using the nickname that my mother despised. “You’ve got me. We’ll just sit back and make fun of everyone like we usually do. It’ll be over before you know it.” She always had a way of calming me down when I was riled up.

  “I just don’t get what the big deal is.”

  Libby gawked at me. “Are you serious right now? History is being made as we speak.”

  Daniel had been my father’s only rightful heir to the throne. Needless to say, his death had left many to question who’d wear the crown next. Per tradition, women couldn’t assume the role, which meant my father’s younger brother was now next in line. However, that still posed one problem.

  “History isn’t being made today, Libby. That will happen when your father is ready to relinquish the throne.” Uncle George had three children…all of which were girls. So really, giving him the crown would only postpone the issue at hand, not solve it. “If you think about it, history won’t be made for quite a few more years. Which means I wouldn’t be missing anything if I didn’t attend today.”

  “Except you don’t have a choice.” She was right—as well as rude for pointing that out. “Do you want the crown, Mo?”

  I wasn’t sure if she had meant that as a joke, or if she was being serious, so I didn’t know if I should laugh or be offended. Instead, I just sat there and stared at her until my eyes dried out. “Are you insane? Of course I don’t want it.”

  Libby shrugged. “I was just checking…you seemed a little annoyed at the prospect of my father taking it.”

  “Nope. Not at all. I couldn’t be happier that your dad is being acknowledged as the natural successor.”

  Her smile told me that she had a witty reply, yet she was interrupted by one of my father’s men coming to escort us to the hearing. Everyone who worked for the family was respectful and kind. However, I didn’t much care for them anytime one had to usher me to my parents.

  We walked in silence from the room I had been held prisoner in to the council building on the other side of the palace. People as far as the eye could see were lined up outside, possibly to be among the firsts to hear the outcome. Either way, I would never understand their fascination with my family. We weren’t that special.

  Once we’d all taken our seats and silence had fallen upon the room, the elders started the hearing. I had zoned out through the majority of it, too busy staring out the window while daydreaming of being on that pier with Ryan. But every now and then, I would pick up on something that was said—mostly when my brother’s name was mentioned.

  “Following the death of Prince Daniel, you, Prince George,” one of the elders stated and waited for my uncle to stand, “are the natural successor following King Thomas’s renouncement. Do you, George Alexander Peter Coldwell, Prince of Ilunabarra, acknowledge your God-given right to sit upon the royal throne and put your country first?”

  Libby’s knee bounced, not enough to catch anyone’s attention, but enough for me to notice. So I gently placed my hand on her thigh and intertwined my fingers with hers. It seemed to be all the support she needed—it also made the jumping knee stop. And with an easy smile and smooth sigh, she returned her attention to the front of the room.

  I had no interest in watching the charade masked as tradition in front of me. That is, until I heard my uncle say, “No.”

  The room was so quiet I could practically hear everyone’s hearts beating. Although, it may very well have been my heart I heard, considering its beats were so rapid that it sounded like more than one. Libby squeezed my fingers until they felt numb. Then again, my entire body felt numb as I stared ahead and watched history unfold before my very eyes.

  Uncle George cleared his throat and ran a hand over the lapel of his coat, which was adorned with pins and ribbons from his time in the service. “Not once, in my fifty-two years on this earth, have I anticipated leading this country. It would be a great honor, I do not dispute that; however, I have long since accepted my fate to be a member of council, as well as a husband and father. It is at this time that I must, sadly, renounce my position as the natural successor to the crown.”

  There were several gasps from the gallery behind me. I was shocked, and with a single glance at my cousin—and her two sisters beside her—it was evident that they were just as stunned as I was. However, as I swung my gaze to the dais up front and took notice of my parents, my world came to a sudden and screeching halt.

  My parents weren’t surprised by this news at all.

  That could only mean one thing—they knew all of this prior to coming here. And even though I couldn’t see the elder’s expression as he faced my uncle, his back to me, I assumed he had prior knowledge of this information as well.

  “Next in line would be King Thomas’s cousin, Sir Liam Coldwell,” the elder read from the docket before him, not even skipping a beat. It felt somewhat rehearsed, which irritated me.

  My mother had obviously been aware of what would take place today, yet she had kept it to herself. The least she could have done was warn me—there wasn’t an ounce of doubt in my mind that she would have informed Daniel had he been here.

  My father stood, and again, the room fell silent. “My cousin, Sir Liam Coldwell, son of the late Prince Grady Coldwell, hasn’t resided in Ilunabarra in more than thirty years. Even if he chose to accept his place in line, he would be ill-prepared to assume the role of leader to this great country. Therefore, I declare him unfit to take the throne following my renouncement.”

  The man with salt and pepper hair who stood at the front had turned to face the gallery of his peers—the Cabinet of Elders. This was their opportunity to object if they disagreed or needed more information.

  I held my breath, waiting to hear “nay” consume the silence in the room. Yet it never came. The allotted time to speak up came and went without one elder objecting to my father’s ruling. Then again, he was the King, and while it wasn’t unheard of for someone to oppose or challenge the King, I doubted it happened often.

  The man turned back around to face the front and continued to read from his scripted document. “Following Sir Liam in the natural line of succession would be his only son, Jeffry Coldwell.” He read aloud names of family members I had never heard of, or at least couldn’t recall any mention of their existence. “However, Jeffry’s birth having taken place outside of Ilunabarra deems him ineligible to take the throne.”

  Maybe I was witnessing history being made.

  It seemed that now, everyone in the hall sat on the edge of their seats, waiting for the lead elder to continue, wondering where this trail would end. Even I, the King’s daughter, had no idea what the outcome would be.

  “That concludes Sir Liam’s lineage. Next would be the late King Lewis’s youngest brother, Prince James.” With that being said, an older gentleman stood, the family resemblance uncanny. I recognized him as my grandfather’s brother, my father’s uncle.

  My great-uncle turned to address the elders. “With all due respect, I feel I must point out the glaring issue with my assuming the crown. It is no secret that my wife had children from a previous marriage, and that upon marrying her, I accepted them and raised them as my own. However, that doesn’t negate the fact that my children—as well as grandchildren—are not biologically mine, and therefore, unqualified to be my successors.”

  This had more or less turned into a family history lesson for me.

  “With that being said,” he continued, “if I were to accept the crown, the monarchy would inevitably end with me. So, it is with great sadness that I must abdicate my birthright to the throne.”

  Again, I studied my parents’ expressions. They were either really good at hiding their emotions or previously aware of today’s outcome. Considering I had witnessed each of them receive unsuspecting news—generally regarding my antics—I knew it had to be the latter. That meant they had already planned out how this would go.

  The longer I sat there with the wheels turning in my head, the more panicked I became. Due to
a very long history of male rulers, as well as the uncontested law regarding women as the head of the country, I was automatically ignored in the line of succession. And I was perfectly okay with that. I had never wanted to be Queen—heck, I didn’t even care to be a princess. But as they crossed off each and every male relative, my parents’ motivation became much clearer. Especially when they reached the ultimate end of the line.

  The lead elder faced my father, and as if prepared to pose this question, he asked, “Without an heir, the monarchy dies. What do you, King Thomas, propose would be in the best interest of Ilunabarra and the future of her people?”

  Once again, my father stood to address the Privy Council and Cabinet of Elders. “It is not without great thought and deliberation that I propose crowning my daughter, Princess Moira Coldwell, following my renouncement of the throne.”

  Rather than hear ringing in my ears, I heard the equivalent of tires skidding on asphalt as my father pulled the emergency brake on my future. If the Cabinet of Elders didn’t object, then my life as I knew it would officially be over. All I could do was hold my breath and pray at least one would oppose this ridiculous idea. I only needed one.

  Then it came. “Nay.”

  I had no clue who it had come from, but I didn’t care. I could breathe again.

  “So say you?” the lead elder asked his peer.

  “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but the law specifically states that the crown can only be passed down to legitimate male heirs.”

  “And I beg your pardon, Elder Michael, but what other choice do we have? If we do not revise some of the more barbaric laws of this land, we face losing everything. Would you really prefer the monarchy to end in favor of appointing a female?”

  “Your Majesty, I meant no offense with my objection.”

  “None taken,” my father said despite his stoic expression.

  The elder addressing the dais took a deep breath and continued. “It is not my wish to end the monarchy. The opposite, in fact. I am only suggesting that we postpone the ruling on today’s hearing until after we’ve had some time to take a closer look at the lineage. Quite simply, I am finding it difficult to accept that our only two options are going against the written law or end hundreds of years of your family’s God-given right.”