“Tessa? Has Arthur found you yet?” Princess Florence is propped up in the hospital bed, her tiny Yorkie on her lap. Talk about different rules for royals.

“Um, no. I came alone. I wanted to see you and make sure you’re doing all right.”

“Oh, this? It’s nothing, I just needed to come in for a little cleaning.” She gestures to the chair next to the bed.

“You look wonderful. So full of colour.” That may have been stretching it a bit. She looks weak and it’s not just because of the IV attached to her arm.

“If we count grey as a colour, that is,” she says. “I’m an old, grey mare.”

“You’re not old. You’re vintage.”

Laughing, she shakes her head at me. “And you are young, lovely, and full of shit. Now, I understand that you want to call off the wedding. Apparently, you’re not as bright as I gave you credit for.”

Well, that was a little insulting, wasn’t it? “I’m afraid it’s for the best. I’m not at all what Arthur will need in a queen.”

“Don’t worry about the queen part. It’s a wife he needs.”

“Yes, well, in this case I think he needs a wife who can double as an elegant queen.”

“All couples have their differences. It’s part of the fun. Argue, make up, argue, make up. It’s a hoot if you do it right.” She waves a hand at me. “Now, then, there are some things you need to know about Arthur if you’re going to make this work.”

“I don’t think you should tell me anything, Your … Arthur and I aren’t going to be able to make this work.”

“Yes, I absolutely should. I know Arthur’s been a bit of an arse since the engagement, but he’s got good reason for it—well, what he would see as good reason.”

She stares out the window for a moment. When she turns back to me, her eyes glisten with tears. “His mother’s death affected him more than anyone realizes. Even Arthur himself.”

Oh, dear. This took a turn I wasn’t expecting. “I assure you I was very careful in my deliberations before making this decision. I know how hard it was for him to let anyone get so close to him.”

“You don’t know because he never would have told you.” Her eyes bore into mine. “He just shut down completely. Wouldn’t talk about her. I tried very hard to comfort him and to get him to talk about his feelings, but he wouldn’t. Just sat, silently. He would sit in the hall, staring at her painting by the hour. That’s why Winston had all other photos of her removed from the family residences. He couldn’t bear to see his little boy like that. Ill-advised, I know, but he thought it better to remove all signs of her, hoping that Arthur would one day forget.”

A lump forms in my throat.

She dabs at her eyes. “Do you know how his mother died?”

“I think I can guess.”

“Good, because it wouldn’t be polite to discuss it.” She nods. “When Arthur found out the truth, he blamed himself for it. The day she… he’d been coming down with a fever. I don’t know if you know much about children, Tessa, but they tend to misbehave when they’re getting sick. Arabella was only three months, and little Arthur had been acting out like any five-year-old boy would do when his mother is preoccupied with a new baby. But that day, he told her she was the worst mummy ever and that he hated her face.” Her face crinkles as she tries to fight her tears.

“Oh, God. That’s awful. I mean, kids say things like that all the time, but for her to…right after…” My eyes fill with tears as I think about how young five years old is. I think of little Knox, and how innocent and naïve he is to the world. In my mind’s eye, I can see Arthur at that age. Small and sad and scared. “Poor Arthur.”

She reaches out and places her frail hand on mine. Warmth and comfort radiate from her. She says nothing, and when I look at her the pain is obvious. We sit like this for a long while, both grieving for a little boy.

“He’s carried that with him for a long time now, and it’s time for him to set that burden down. Over the years I’ve tried to help him realize that it wasn’t his fault, but he won’t hear it. So, instead, he’s spent his entire life trying to rescue Arabella and me, and now you. And I know what kind of trouble it’s been causing you in particular. He’s been keeping things from you that you had every right to know.”

My head snaps back in surprise.

“Oh, yes, I know everything. Very little gets by me,” she says. “I know my grandson better than anyone and I can tell you he’d never stray. But he’ll also never get rid of his ridiculous savior complex unless he forgives himself for his mother’s death. You need to be the one to help him do that.”

“I can’t. I wish I could, but—”

“What? It’s too hard? He’s not worth the effort?”

Yeesh. She’s tough for someone who just got out of surgery. “No, of course not. I just wouldn’t know how.”

“By standing up to him. By showing him you’re strong and you won’t be chased away by some idiots who disapprove. By taking him back.”

“I can’t. It’s too late for us. The palace is making the announcement today.”

“Then you’d better hurry,” she says with a firm nod.

My entire body fills with nervous energy. She’s right. I need to go get him back. I stand up and grab my purse. “Do you think he’ll want to?”

“Of course. He’s absolutely miserable without you. Now, don’t just stand here. Go find him!”