Theo rushed through the palace, ignoring people who called his name or tried to get his attention. Four words repeated in his head, delivered by his pale and shaking sister. There’s been an accident. An accident involving Meg. A fall. A doctor was already with her.

And he’d just now been told.

He knew he should slow down, knew that sprinting down the hallways wasn’t something a king was supposed to do, but his rational brain took a backseat to the need to see her. To make sure she was okay. No, not okay. If she was okay, she wouldn’t have had an accident. He reached the private wing and burst through the door, barely pausing to shut it behind him before he ran into the bedroom.

Meg lay on the bed and she held up a hand the second she saw him. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Doctor Oakes didn’t glance up from the bandage he was applying to her arm. “She had the fortune of getting her arm through the bannister before she fell too far. It dislocated her shoulder, which I’ve corrected. It will be sore, and depending on how she’s feeling in the morning, she should wear a sling at least until jarring it doesn’t cause any level of discomfort. The rest are just bruises that look alarming, but have caused no lasting damage.”

Meg didn’t look alarming. She looked like she’d been dragged behind a fucking car.

A bruise spread across one side of her face and it was already darkening to a truly terrifying shade of purple. Theo traced its path with his gaze, his stomach lurching when he realized how close she’d come to hitting her temple. Her cheekbone had taken the worst of the damage, but a few inches to the side and they might not be having this conversation right now. “What happened?”

She met his eyes and lied to his face. “I fell.”

Goddamn it, princess, what the fuck are you thinking? Theo turned away, shoving his rage into a spot deep inside. Now wasn’t the time or place for an emotional response, no matter how furious he was over her lying about something this important. He looked around the room, only now registering that Galen wasn’t present. “Where is he?”

“Not in the palace.”

Theo sent her a sharp look. Surely… The thought didn’t bother to complete itself. Galen would sooner throw himself out a window than lay a hand on Meg. Theo pulled out his phone and, after the slightest hesitation, walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He trusted Meg, and he trusted the doctor to take care of Meg, but she was lying to him and he didn’t know why. Better to have this conversation privately.

Galen picked up on the second ring. “What happened?”

Something small and painful lodged in Theo’s chest. Of course Galen would know that his calling in the middle of the day meant an emergency and wasn’t simply because Theo wanted to talk to him. Where did this go so wrong? He set the question aside, just like he’d been setting personal things aside for the last six months. Theo stopped being just a person the second the crown rested on his head. He was the King of Thalania, and as Galen used to be so fond of telling him, his happiness didn’t mean shit in the grand scheme of things.

“Theo?”

“Meg’s hurt.” Two little words to encompass the fear that still clamped around his chest, a vise he didn’t know how to loosen. “There was no lasting damage, but she dislocated her shoulder and she looks like shit.” He glanced at the door. “She says she fell, but—”

“But that’s bullshit. Did anyone see anything?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to conduct a full investigation as I was sprinting through the halls.” He hadn’t even thought to check the cameras to see what they’d caught.

The background noise on the line increased, as if Galen had stepped out of a building or car. “I’ll take care of it. Stay with her until I get back. Once we know what happened, we’ll figure out the next steps.”

As if he’d leave Meg in her current condition. Galen doesn’t know that, not anymore. The feeling in his chest got worse. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Galen hung up.

Once upon a time, Galen never would have thought to question Theo staying by Meg’s side until they knew for sure what had happened—and that the threat had passed. Something else to be dealt with later. The number of things they never quite got around to talking about only grew over time. If they weren’t careful, it would crush them.

Theo took a moment to splash some water onto his face and, when he finally walked back into the bedroom, he had his kingly mask back in place. The doctor was packing up his things. “There is a bottle of pain medication on the nightstand. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.” He gave a short bow and left the room.

“His bedside manner is almost as crappy as Galen’s.” Meg leaned against a small mountain of pillows, watching him. When they first met, every thought flickered across her features, there for the reading. Somewhere along the way, his princess had learned to lie. Or maybe she’d always known and never bothered with the skill until recently. Impossible to say.

He picked up the orange bottle of little white pills and considered them. “You’ll have one before you go to sleep.”

“Theo.” She shook her head and winced. “I’m not taking anything more than ibuprofen, and you damn well know it.”

“They won’t make you sick if you’re unconscious.” He set the bottle back down and climbed onto the mattress to sit next to her. For the first time in as long as they’d known each other, he didn’t know how to move forward. She lied to him, and not about something mundane or meaningless. But then, Meg always knew where to best play her cards, even when she was in over her head. “Let me hold you, princess?”

She twisted carefully to face him. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. Theo didn’t do unsure. He came into this world knowing his place and even when that place was temporarily lost to him, he never doubted for an instant that it was his. Even with Galen, he’d always taken for granted that they would find a way forward, a way to be together. When he met Meg, she became included in that assumption. They fit, and so they would figure it out.

He couldn’t assume anything anymore.

“I’m asking.”

Meg scooted closer, and he carefully put his arm around her and waited while she arranged herself against his side. She sighed. “This is a mess.”

“How are you feeling?” Careful, tentative question.

She shifted closer. “I feel like shit. My face is one big throbbing pain and my shoulder chimes in with every breath to let me know how pissed off it is.”

He sifted his fingers through her hair, ensuring he stayed well away from her bruised cheekbone. “It could have been a lot worse. Those stairs killed my great-great-aunt.”

“Of course they did.” She huffed out a sound that might have been a laugh under different circumstances. “Is there any part of this palace that isn’t haunted by the actions and deaths of your family?”

He wished he had a different answer to the question. “No. Thalania likes its history, even the ugly parts.” Especially the ugly parts, in some cases.

“How are we doing, Theo? And before you give me some pat answer, I mean how are we really doing? It’s been six months. Are you making any progress?”

He wanted to give her a pat response, to soothe away the worry evident in her tone. But Theo couldn’t demand honesty—something he fully intended on doing—if he wasn’t willing to give her honesty in return. “It’s slow. Really slow. Three of the Families have decided that they’re not interested in actively working with me, though they haven’t gone so far as to work against my policies yet. Huxley is out. Lady Nibley is in, with the condition of a favor.”

“Her grandson.”

He smiled against her hair. “So you heard about that.”

“How does she expect you to do something no one in her family has been able to?”

“I’m the King.” Such a simple answer, and yet so fucking complex. He’d been trained to ride these ebbs and flows of politics since he was a child, but Theo never remembered it being so exhausting. My father was alive before. I hadn’t realized how much his presence shielded me until it was gone. Until he was gone.

“Being King doesn’t mean you’re a god.” She draped her arm over his stomach and exhaled. “God, this hurts.”

“I know, princess.” He pressed a soft kiss to her unmarked temple. “Do you want to tell me the truth about what happened or should we wait for Galen to view the video and let him yell at you once he gets back to the room?”

She tensed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I fell—”

He spoke right over her, his earlier fear surging up and pouring out of his mouth in the form of anger. “What I don’t understand is why you’re bothering to lie at all. You didn’t fall down those stairs, Meg, so don’t treat me like a fucking idiot by saying you did.”

“Maybe I didn’t want you to react like this and start storming through the palace looking for the responsible party. If I knew who’d done it, I would have told you, but it’s just some nameless person and I can’t have you on a rampage when you’re already walking a fine enough line as it is.”

Fuck him.

She wasn’t lying for whatever the hell he’d thought her misguided reasoning was. She was lying to protect him.

Theo sagged back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling. “You have to be able to talk to me, Meg. You have to trust that I’m not going to react like… I don’t even know what the fuck to call that. You have to know I can handle it.”

“I know you can handle it. That’s not what I’m saying.” She kept her head tucked against his chest, making it impossible to look into her eyes. “You just shouldn’t have to.”

“This isn’t some petty bullshit. You could have died.” Saying the words slammed him back into the car crash seven months ago that was no more an accident than her fall had been. To seeing Meg, pale and unconscious, too much of her blood covering the ground around her.

It could happen again.

It almost had.

Theo had to concentrate to keep his hold on her light and not clutch her to him as if he could keep her safe from whoever meant her harm. He’d already proven abysmal at it. She was in this situation because of him. “Do you want to leave?”

Meg shot up, nearly clipping his chin with the top of her head. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I dare, what?”

She sat back and raised a shaking finger to wave it in his face. “Don’t you dare try to send me away. We went over this last time. I’m not going anywhere, and damn you to hell for even thinking of suggesting it.” She glared, the effect only stronger by the impressive bruise coloring the side of her face. “Do you love me, Theo?”

If he was smart, he’d lie to her. Tell her that yes, he cared about her, but it was best if she went back to New York, back to her safe life and her equally safe plan for the future. The worst she had to deal with back there was drunk bar patrons, and Meg had already proved herself more than capable. She wouldn’t be in active danger in New York.

But Theo had promised her honesty. “Yes, I love you.”

“Then let’s not play the guilt game. This isn’t your fault, and trying to send me away is just going to result in a fight that you won’t win.”

“Meg—”

The door opened and heavy footsteps signaled Galen’s arrival. The fact that they heard him at all was a testament to how worried he was. Normally, he was more ghost than man.

Galen stopped in the doorway, visibly centering himself. “She was pushed.” He gave Meg a long look that communicated just how pissed he was that she’d bothered to try to lie about it, and then turned his attention to Theo. “Whoever it was knew where the cameras were. They wore a black sweatshirt and pants. I can’t even narrow down gender—a woman or a small man.”

The palace alone staffed well over a hundred people, all of who moved through the space regularly and would know where the cameras were. Add in the nobles and their various staff and that number more than doubled. It could be anyone.

Meg gave a soft laugh. “Your aunt did warn me that people here would want to kill me.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Never said it was.”

They looked at each other, the truth an almost physical presence in the room with them. Someone had tried to kill Meg. They failed, but there was no reason to think that would deter them.

Galen crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going to talk to Isaac. We’re putting security on you.”

“You have security on me.”

“Only when you’re outside the palace. Now, they’re on you all the time.”

Meg thinned her lips like she wanted to argue, but whatever she saw on their faces changed her mind. “Fine.”

Galen stalked closer to the bed. “Did they give her something?”

Meg started to cross her arms over her chest, winced, and let herself sink back into the pillows. “For the millionth time, I am sitting right here and talking about me like I’m a woman-shaped doll doesn’t fly. No, the doctor didn’t give me anything.”

Theo grabbed the pain meds and gave them a shake. “On the contrary.”

“Shut up, you tattletale,” she hissed.

Galen kicked off his shoes. “Look, baby, I know the pain pills make you nauseous, but what’s the alternative?” He climbed onto the bed to sit on the other side of her and lifted her hair away from her face. “Fuck. You look like shit.”

“Thanks, baby. You really know how to turn a girl’s head with that kind of talk.”

The acidity in her tone rolled off Galen just like it always seemed to. They bickered as often as they fucked, and it bonded them in a way that had nothing to do with Theo. Normally, evidence of that love made him happy, but today it felt like he was standing on the outside of a window and looking in.

Galen shifted to cup Meg’s jaw and tilted her head to the side. “We’ll order some soup—something you don’t have to chew—and crackers. If you put something substantial in your stomach before you take the meds, they won’t be as bad.” He shook his head when she started to protest. “You’re not going to be able to sleep without them. Trust me.”

She sighed. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

“Is it really worth if it you spend an entire night laying here, miserable and cursing your stupid-ass pride?”

Another sigh, this one flirting with being downright dramatic. “No?”

“Good answer.” He finally released her and shifted to face Theo. “This is a problem.”

“Understatement of the century. Yes, Galen, this is a fucking problem.” It wasn’t Galen’s fault any more than it was Meg’s, but Theo couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Someone pushed our girlfriend down the stairs.” It struck him then of how it would look. The media would take one picture of Meg and start screaming that Theo or Galen was abusing her—maybe both.

He didn’t say it. If he brought it up, they would both look at him like he was shit on the bottom of their shoe. He should be focused on Meg and solely Meg, but Theo had never been all that successful at turning off the part of his brain that schemed and planned and maneuvered. It was how he took care of what was his. Galen preferred to stalk a situation and take care of it privately—and permanently—but that wouldn’t work this time.

They had no evidence to go on. There were half a dozen people off the top of his head who would happily see Meg gone, whether because she was a foreigner or because they blamed her for the unconventional setup of having two Consorts. If he’d just named Galen, they would have grumbled, but eventually Edward would marry and his children would take over the throne when the time came. The line would remain unbroken. And Galen’s mother’s family stretched back through Thalania’s history nearly as far as Theo’s did. His father might be Greek, but he had the right lineage to appease the Families.

Meg didn’t.

Theo knew that when he named her Consort, but he’d been selfish. He wanted her, and he wanted Galen, and he wanted all three of them together. They worked, though not much seemed to be working in their current situation.

He couldn’t send Galen hunting. Theo had no reason to doubt Galen would find the perpetrator, but he was no longer the head of security who could move through the background without drawing attention. He was Consort, and every move would be scrutinized down to the last detail.

Another sin to lay at Theo’s feet.

“I’ll take care of it.” The words emerged before he had a chance to call them back. Theo climbed off the bed and yanked his shoes on. He tried to keep his emotions locked down, but they showed in his jerky movements.

“Theo—”

“I’ll take care of it,” he repeated. He took a slow breath and turned to face them, drawing from years of training to put a smile on his face. “Rest, princess. Galen will watch over you while you sleep. You’re safe.” Theo would do what it took to ensure she stayed safe. He picked up his suit jacket and shrugged into it. A quick check of the clock confirmed it was barely dinner time. Too late for what he had planned, but he’d make it work.

He felt Galen behind him as he stepped out into the hallway. “I have it covered.”

“Funny you say that, because this whole situation is fucked.” Galen grabbed his arm and spun him around. “We almost lost Meg and now you’re running off alone? No. Fuck that. I’m not losing both of you.”

He bit down on a sharp reply. Theo shot a look down the hall, but they were blessedly alone. He took Galen’s shoulders and pulled him close, until their breath mingled and their soft words wouldn’t linger for anyone to hear. “I’ll take Isaac. I’m not rushing into anything.”

“I don’t know what you’re not rushing into, Theo. You don’t fucking talk to us anymore.”

It hadn’t been an intentional withdrawing. He simply saw how exhausted and stressed they were and tried to alleviate that in the only way he knew how: by not adding to it. Obviously he’d taken a wrong step somewhere, though that was a conversation for another day. Add it to the growing list. “Trust me this once, Galen. I’m going to handle this, and then we’re going to sit down and figure some shit out. I promise.”

Galen cursed and hooked the back of Theo’s neck. He towed him in and kissed him, every move conveying fury and fear and a frustration he didn’t know what to do with. Shit Galen would never say aloud, not where someone might witness it. Theo heard it all the same. He kissed his friend back, using tongue and teeth to reassure him in the only way he’d listen to. It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until they got to the bottom of this, until they fixed the thing he hadn’t quite managed to admit was broken.

Theo stepped back and Galen let him go. He nodded at the door. “Take care of her. I’ll be back shortly.”

“You’re not going to tell me where you’re going, are you?”

If he did, Galen might hogtie him and toss him into a closet, king or no. “Correct.”

Galen cursed. “Tell Kozlov that if something happens to you, I’m going to hunt him down and gut him.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that information along.” Theo hesitated, something soft and worried taking root in his stomach. “I love you.”

“I know.” Galen opened the door. “I love you, too. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He was about to go do something stupid.

Theo waited for the door to close and to hear the click of the lock being engaged. Then he went in search of his head of security, Isaac Kozlov. It didn’t take long to track him down—the man took his job seriously and essentially lived in the hub where he ran the various security operations. He looked up as Theo walked through the door and lunged to his feet to bow, bending his huge body in half with more grace that he should have possessed with his size. “Your Majesty.”

“Isaac.” He closed the door behind him and checked the room. As usual, Isaac was alone. “I need you to do something for me, and both time and speed are of the essence.” Back when Galen ran the security for the palace, he’d specifically recruited Isaac because of his unique skills pairing of being able to hack damn near any computer system, and being just as deadly as Galen was. There weren’t many people Theo trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt, but Isaac numbered among them.

If only for his loyalty to Galen.

Isaac straightened. “Of course, Your Majesty. Is this concerning the Consort’s attack?”

“It is.” He hesitated. Once he pulled this proverbial trigger, there was no going back. “I need you to find Dorian Mikos.”