Meg woke up far too early. Her shoulder ached and her face was one giant throbbing pain, but she refused to lay here and feel sorry for herself. Galen walked out of the bathroom as she climbed out of bed and pointed a finger at her. “I don’t think so. Get back in bed.”

“No.” Normally, she would try to couch that under a reasonable tone, but she wasn’t in the mood. Everything hurt and her patience was at an all-time low.

He growled at her, and she growled right back. Galen threw up his hands and raised his voice. “Theo, deal with her.”

“Deal with me.” She clenched her jaw and immediately regretted it. “I let you play nursemaid yesterday, because I know this whole thing freaked you the fuck out, but that stops now. I can walk, I can talk, and I’m not going to lie around and hide while you and Theo do whatever it is that you’re planning.”

His dark brows dropped. “Who’s to say we’re planning anything?”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Fine. Fuck. Yes, we have some shit in the works.” He ran a hand over his face. “Just stay safe until we can put it into motion.” Galen ducked down and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her mouth opposite her bruise. “I’ll catch up with you later.” And then he was gone, striding out of the room. Half a second later, a click sounded as the door shut behind him.

That hadn’t gone how she’d expected. It hadn’t gone how she expected at all.

Meg walked into the bathroom to find Theo shaving. He met her gaze in the mirror, his blue, blue eyes tracking the bruise that had taken over her face at this point. “I’d ask how you’re feeling, but I imagine it’s not well.”

“You’d imagine right.” She waited, but he went back to shaving. Meg frowned, irritated that she was irritated by him not jumping all over her like Galen had. “You’re not going to order me back to bed, then?”

“Would it work if I tried?”

Damn it, she hated it when he was reasonable. “No.”

“Didn’t think so.” Theo drew the razor over his neck. “I’m sure you have a perfectly justifiable explanation for why you’re up and about instead of resting and healing.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t going to be that reasonable. Meg lifted her chin and tried not to wince at the way her head spun. “Appearances matter.” When he didn’t immediately respond, she kept going. “Someone pushed me down the stairs yesterday, and if I hide in the room while you and Galen do whatever it is that you’re doing, then it makes all three of us look weak. It makes me look weak. I’m already the foreigner and the one who keeps making mistakes when it comes to dealing with the nobles. If I stay in bed all day today, then they’re going to think I’m running scared. They’re going to think they’re halfway to winning whatever it is that they’re trying to win. No. Screw that. I’m not scared. I’m angry.”

He finished shaving and set the razor on the edge of the sink. A quick wipe of the towel and he faced her. Meg rocked back on her heels. Even after all the time, the sight of him still knocked her for a loop. Galen was fierce and massive and scarred enough to mark his body as a warrior the same way his soul was. Theo’s face was all sharp angles that somehow came together to create a masterpiece of masculine beauty. Vivid blue eyes and a mouth made for spinning sinful lies only ensured that he was a man who made people sit up and take notice. The first time Meg had ever seen him, standing in a VIP lounge above a crowded club, her breath had stalled in her lungs the same way it was now, as if she’d inhaled and simply forgotten to exhale.

God, she loved him so much, she didn’t think her body could encompass the feeling.

“Meg?” He said her name as if it wasn’t the first time.

“Sorry. You’re just… you.” She tried for a smile and abandoned it halfway through. Meg reached up and ran her hand along the smooth line of his jaw. “What did you say?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” And she did. If she let them, Theo and Galen would stand as her sword and shield against anyone who thought to hurt her. If she was a different person, she’d even consider it. “I can’t let you fight my battles, Theo. Not even this one.” Meg might be outclassed when it came to so many people who made their home here in the palace, but she’d be damned before she let them think her a coward.

He turned and kissed her palm. “I know.” As if it was as simple as that. He knew she could stand on her own, so he didn’t plan on arguing with her.

She might have appreciated the sentiment if it didn’t make her so suspicious. “What are you two up to?”

“The plan isn’t quite in place yet.” He stepped back and moved to the closet on the other side of the bathroom. It was a massive walk-in with rows set out, each divided by who it belonged to. Theo’s wardrobe took up an entire side, while Meg’s rapidly growing dress collection competed with Galen’s simpler black on black on black ensembles. Theo pulled on a pair of slacks and straightened. “Once I have the information we need to move forward, I’ll loop both you and Galen in.”

He trusted her to stand on her own, and he asked for her trust in return. Meg didn’t want to be left out of whatever plans he intended to put into place. Theo had a habit of jumping first and figuring out if there was water on the way down. He always managed to land on his feet, but she feared that one day he wouldn’t pull it off. In the end, she couldn’t play the part of hypocrite. Not about this. “How long do you think you’ll need?”

“Not long.” He buttoned up his shirt and walked to her. Theo smoothed hair back and kissed her forehead. “A day, maybe two.”

She could last that long. She would last that long. “Okay, I can do that.”

“I love you, princess.”

“Love you, too.” She watched him walk out of the bathroom, unable to shake the feeling that something terrible was coming. It was more than the fact that she’d been attacked. Unfortunately, walking around with a bull’s eye on her back seemed to go hand in hand with being with Theo and Galen. Some days she had more of a problem with that truth than others. This time felt different, though. It wasn’t just prodding around the edges to find and exploit weak spots in their relationship. Whoever had shoved her hadn’t cared if she lived or died. Those stairs were monsters. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to land wrong on her neck.

And that would have been that.

Meg showered quickly and managed to get her hair into a halfway decent ponytail despite how badly her shoulder ached. She didn’t care. She was going to walk out of here and force everyone to look at what had been done to her. No reason to think the guilty party would react, but it couldn’t hurt to stir the waters just in case.

She dressed in a simple pair of slacks, a deep purple blouse that complimented her nasty bruise nicely, and low black heels. The bed looked particularly inviting as she headed for the door, but Meg ignored its siren call. She meant what she told Theo—she wouldn’t be the weak link. They needed to move forward as a unit, which was hellishly hard to do with Theo plotting in the background, but she could give him the couple days she promised him.

Meg opened the door and stopped short. Alys stood there, practically vibrating with worry. The smaller woman looked her over, her dark eyes wide and concerned. “Oh, Consort, you look terrible.”

“Thank you, Alys,” she said dryly. “I wasn’t aware.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, of course. You look strong and sure.” Alys held up her tablet almost apologetically. “Would you like your schedule?”

“Is Noemi Huxley on it?”

She blinked. “She did reach out and say she’d like to reschedule your tea whenever it convenient for you.”

The last thing Meg wanted to do was have tea with Noemi while they sat around and talked about things that really didn’t matter. But there was no ignoring the fact that the attack on her had come at a specific time. She’d been wandering the halls of the palace for six months without an incident. It was possible that the whole thing was a giant coincidence, but until she figured it out, she would operate as if it wasn’t.

That meant she had to see Noemi.

“It’s convenient for me now. Is she in the palace?”

“Uh…” Alys flicked her fingers over her tablet and clicked a few buttons. “It appears she is staying in the Huxley suites in the west wing.

Meg glanced at her watch. “I’ll meet her in the informal dining room, the blue one.” One of these days, she’d remember what every room in the palace was called, but since they numbered at well over a hundred and each had a specific name, Meg hadn’t managed that feat quite yet. She’d been too occupied with memorizing the Families’ lineage and how they were all interconnected with each other and with the throne. A tangled web that went back many generations. It was no wonder Theo had been so determined to take the throne. If the Fitzcharles line failed, Thalania would have a civil war on its hands. For all their politicking, no one actually wanted that.

Alys made an unhappy noise but her smile was perfectly professional. “Of course, Consort. Are you headed there now?”

“I am.” She took a step and hesitated. “If Princess Camilla is available, I’d like to invite her to either lunch or tea.”

“The King sent the princess to the country this morning.”

Removing her from the line of fire. Smart. “In that case, cancel the rest of my appointments after Noemi and reschedule.”

“Consort, you can’t.”

“I think you’ll find that I can, and that I will.” She’d spent so long being swept along with what she should be doing that she never took a step back to figure out if that was what she wanted.

Meg wanted Theo. She wanted Galen. That had been enough until now.

Maybe it was time to decide what she wanted as Consort.

She didn’t know yet, but it damn sure wasn’t to be scheduled from the time she woke up to the time she went to bed. She’d started to feel like a sideshow attraction, and the thought of spending the rest of her time in Thalania like that… No. She was done, and she was done today.

“But Consort… The schedule—”

Her new determination didn’t mean she’d throw Alys under the bus completely. Meg strove for patience and turned to face her secretary fully. “Is there anything vital on the schedule today that absolutely can’t be moved?”

Alys opened her mouth and seemed to reconsider. “Two things.”

“Keep those and reschedule the rest.” She headed down the hall. “Things are changing, Alys. Starting today.”

If Noemi Huxley rushed to make it to breakfast, there was no evidence of it as she walked through the doors of the informal dining room. Her blond hair was done up in a series of braids that, on anyone else, would look messy, but on her just seemed chic. Her lipstick was even a pink that coordinated perfectly with her deep rose dress. Her smile died a terrible death when she caught sight of Meg. “Consort!” She caught herself almost immediately, moderating her tone and stopping her rush forward, but she couldn’t quite recapture the easy smile.

She hurried over to the table and lowered her voice. “Meg, are you well?”

“Kind of a silly question, don’t you think?”

Noemi made a face, the expression the first crack in her perfect presentation Meg had ever witnessed. “Yes, I suppose it is.” She glanced over her shoulder and then marched to the door and shut it firmly. Another pointed glance at the camera situated in the corner of the room. “I would have thought that Mr. Kozlov would be taking his responsibility of keeping you safe more seriously.”

Meg blinked. Of all the things she’d expected the other woman to say, a snippy comment aimed at Theo’s head of security didn’t number among them. “You know Isaac?”

“We’re acquainted.”

Which could mean anything from their having exchanged two words to their banging in supply closets every chance they got. If the palace even had supply closets. It was something Meg would have to investigate at some point. She tilted her head to the side, trying to picture it. Noemi was so… perfect. Obviously she couldn’t be that perfect—she was human, after all—but she had just as much practice keeping the facade in place as Theo did.

Isaac Kozlov was… less so. For one, he was even bigger than Galen, and he wasn’t attractive in the conventional sense of the word. Meg couldn’t decide if it was because of his features—rough and carved with a brutal god’s hand—or because he rarely smiled. The scar ringing his neck, thick and gnarled as if someone had attempted to garrote him, definitely didn’t help matters.

“You and Isaac…” She gave herself a shake. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” No matter how much the strange look on Noemi’s face sparked her curiosity. “I actually asked you here so we could pick up where tomorrow should have gone.”

Noemi took that in stride just like she seemed to take everything in stride. “Of course, Consort. I had arranged tea because…” She hesitated, her hands doing something resembling a nervous flutter in her lap. “I’m sorry. This just feels rather strange. We’re adults, and we should be able to have a conversation like adults.”

Meg wasn’t sure whether the woman was aiming that comment at her or at herself. “Won’t know if we can have a conversation like adults until you broach the topic you’re dancing around.”

“Right. Of course.” Noemi gave herself a little shake and straightened her shoulders imperceptibly. “I get the feeling you don’t like me much, Consort, and I’d like to know why.”

Oh wow. Noemi was just full of surprises. Meg leaned forward and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

She poured a second cup and watched as Noemi methodically doused it with several spoonfuls of sugar and a healthy dose of cream. Huh, she would have pegged the woman as fake sweetener and no cream. Apparently her people-reading skills as a former bartender were getting rusty. Meg waited for her to finish stirring before she spoke again. “Why does it matter whether I like you or not? Plenty of deals go down within these walls, and liking a person never enters into the equation.”

“I’m aware.” Noemi cupped her mug and inhaled slowly. “This sounds childish, and my father wouldn’t thank me for saying it, but I had hoped we’d be friends.”

Meg blinked. “Friends.” Why in the hell would this woman want to be friends with her? Surely there was some other element involved, some kind of manipulation. Meg had learned months ago that no kind overture came without some sort of strings attached, and this one couldn’t possibly be the exception to the rule.

Maybe she’s involved in whatever plot had me being shoved down the stairs.

Noemi gave a self-deprecating smile. “I know what you must think of me, but once upon a time Theo and I were quite close. I care about him and his happiness, and I would like to get to know you better. I had always thought he and Galen would…” She shrugged. “But I suppose they did, in a way.”

“You knew about him and Galen?” As best Meg could tell, half the court had suspected something was going on, but Theo and Galen kept certain aspect of their relationship under wraps for the entirety of their adult lives… until now. Until Theo had come back for the throne and named both Galen and Meg as Consorts.

“I did.” Noemi met her gaze steadily. “I’d like to know more about the woman special enough to matter to both of them. You’ve done a good job of keeping me at a distance, but it’s rather exhausting not having anyone in the palace you can trust, isn’t it?”

It was. She constantly felt like she was under attack—or surveillance, at the very least. There were times when she missed her best friend back home, Cara, so badly that she couldn’t stand it. The only people she had to talk to without worrying about misstepping was Theo and Galen… and there were some conversational needs they couldn’t meet. She missed having a friend.

That didn’t mean Meg could trust Noemi.

Noemi nodded as if she’d responded. “I know. This place is a cesspit of vipers, and you have no reason to believe my intentions are true. I’m sure plenty of the other noblewomen have sidled up to you with the intention of getting closer to the crown.” Noemi made another face. “I’m not making a good case for myself, am I?”

“Not really.” But Meg laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Let me ask you a question.”

“Of course.”

“Why do you think someone pushed me down the stairs yesterday?”

There it was again, the shock that went all the way to Noemi’s blue eyes. If she was faking her response, she was the best damn actress Meg had ever come across. Since Meg couldn’t rule that out, she kept her expression even while Noemi worked through her surprise. “Someone pushed you?”

“Yes. Down the back staircase while I was on my way to tea with you.”

“There are cameras.” Noemi twisted to look at the one in the corner again. “Surely Isaac—Mr. Kozlov—saw the person who did it.”

There it was again, that little slip of the mask. There was definitely something there beyond a casual acquaintance with Isaac. Meg filed that away to examine later. “They knew where the cameras were, and they avoided them. We’re not even sure if it’s a man or a woman.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Noemi took a tiny sip of her coffee. “May I be frank with you?”

“I would prefer it.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “You could have been targeted for a number of reasons, but there are two options more likely than the others. The first is that the responsible party doesn’t like that you’re a foreigner and so close to the crown. You have Theo’s ear and, if you were an enterprising woman, you could use that influence to benefit both yourself and parties who aren’t Thalanian.”

Meg shook her head. “I would never.”

“As I said, this is just potential motivation. The other option…” Noemi sighed. “The other option is that they either want to scare Theo back into exile—something that will never work—or they think that losing you will weaken him and make him more pliable.”

She snorted. Theo being pliable was a laughable concept. “I think they’ll find that reality doesn’t match up to expectations.”

“He’s rather stubborn, isn’t he?”

“Is water wet?” Meg finally picked up her coffee and took a long sip, letting the taste linger on her tongue. “If we’re still being frank, I have no reason to trust you.”

Noemi nodded. “You really don’t. I wouldn’t in your position.”

Being what amounted to a princess was such a complicated affair, but in the end some of its skillset matched up with being a very good bartender. It was all about reading people and anticipating how they’d react in any given situation. In the pub back in New York, the worst she had to worry about was a bar fight or some drunk idiot getting handsy and having to be dealt with. Here, the stakes were so much higher. “Why help me?”

“Theo—”

“Yeah, you said that already. But if you and Theo were such great friends before all this began, he would act differently around you. He barely looks sideways at you, and it’s not because I’m acting the part of the threatened, jealous girlfriend.”

Noemi looked at her, really looked at her. “No, I suppose you aren’t.” She sighed. “My father is the head of our Family. As progressive as Thalania is in many ways, the Huxley family drags behind the times. He won’t give his blessing for me to take over operations. He intends to pass on the Head of Family title to my cousin instead.”

Frustrating, but it didn’t explain what that had to do with Meg.

Noemi nodded as if she’d spoken aloud. “I know this seems a small thing in comparison to what you’ve been dealing with since named Consort, but it’s my life. My Family’s life, even, since my cousin is a fool. If I had your support—support from all three of you—I could take the position before my father has a chance to give it away.” She gave a tiny little smile that sent chills down Meg’s spine. “Of course, the Huxley Family will remain a staunch ally to both Crown and Consorts for the duration of my time as Head of Family.”

“Of course.” Meg stared into her coffee. She had no business making these kinds of deals. She was…

She was Consort.

All this time, she’d felt like she was playing a role, a little girl in a princess gown and shoes she’d never manage to fill. If she was going to stay, if she was really going to do this, it was time to take charge of this little corner of her life.

She took another sip of her coffee. “I can’t promise to do more than talk to Theo and Galen about supporting you.” She continued before Noemi could speak. “But I will support your claim after you’ve enacted your coup.” And she had a feeling Theo would as well. They needed allies. Several of the Families had come out in support of Theo, but it was more to hedge their bets than out of any real loyalty to him. Many of the younger generation of Families idolized him, and that would be useful in a few years, but the others saw his exile as proof that he wasn’t infallible, and that was dangerous for everyone.

“Thank you, Consort.”

She could let this stand, could keep the careful distance between them. Hell, she probably should. But since coming to Thalania, Noemi had never set off Meg’s internal alarms the way some of the nobles did. She was beautiful enough to give a movie star a crippling case of insecurity, but Meg would have to be a particular brand of asshole to hold that against her. No, it was time to start putting down roots here. Real roots.

And that meant allowing for the possibility of friendship. “If we’re going to be friends, you should call me Meg.”