I make my way to the suite where my father has been staying. It takes a few minutes, but it doesn’t seem like it’s been nearly long enough. I’m standing outside his door before I know it, and my heart speeds in my chest at the thought of having to knock.

My father and I have had a complicated relationship. Though I suppose now that I’m thinking of it, it hasn’t been very complicated at all. He has a very narrow view of the place of women, and I’ve suffered for it. That is all our relationship has been from the day I was born.

I stand at the door for what seems an eternity, terrified to do so much as knock. But I know I must—if I want to save my marriage to William, I have little choice but to stand up to my father. And I do want to save my marriage. I must.

Finally, I rap softly on the door. A muffled “yes” comes from the other side, and I open the door, peeking in before I enter.

My father is sitting on the sofa in the living room—his suite is much larger than mine, though mostly set up exactly the same. His gaze narrows when he realizes it’s me.

I curtsy, bowing my head. “Hello, Father.”

His response is little more than a growl. “What do you want?”

I force a smile as I straighten. “I…I thought we might speak. I…I haven’t seen you in some time.”

He makes a sound that could only be described as a snort. “You’ve been quite busy, Daughter.”

“Yes.” I try to keep the plastic smile on my lips. “With the conference and the cleanup from the storm—”

“That isn’t what I meant.” He grumbles something under his breath before he finally motions for me to take the seat across from him. “Sit. I thought you were one of the servants bringing my breakfast. I don’t know what takes these Montovians so long… You’d think they’d never had guests before.”

I say nothing as I take a seat in the chair opposite him.

“Have you eaten? If they ever show up, I’ll have them bring something for you.”

“I’m fine. I…I ate earlier.”

He rolls his eyes. “With your husband, I suppose? You’ve reconciled your little spat, then?”

“I…” I don’t want to reveal too much to him. I suppose it’s better if he thinks William and I are still fighting. “We’re trying.”

He sighs, sitting back in his chair before he folds his arms across his chest. “So I’ve heard.”

My heart is still hammering in my chest. Even though he’s never treated me well—some might even say he’s done horrible, treacherous things to me—he’s still my father. And part of me is having a great deal of difficulty showing him any amount of disrespect.

“We had an agreement, Justine.”

“We did. But—”

“There’s no but, Daughter. We had an agreement. And you are now in violation of that agreement.”

“I’m…in violation?”

“Never once did I say you could actually have a relationship with that Montovian piece of filth. Never once did I say you could care for him.”

My face feels like it’s caught fire. My mouth is opening and closing without making any sounds—I can’t seem to find my breath.

“Oh, you thought I wouldn’t know what the two of you have been up to?” He shakes his head. “You’ve gone soft—fallen in love with him. You’ve become one of them.” He sighs. “You underestimate my power, Daughter. And how far it reaches outside my country.”

It feels as though there’s something crushing my chest. I can’t seem to breathe, let alone speak.

And my father seems to appreciate my silence. “You’ve violated the terms of our agreement. And now I find myself here…” He waves with his arms. “Here, in this…this filthy excuse for a country…” He shakes his head. “You’ve become one of them,” he repeats. “You’ve chosen the enemy’s side. And you’ve left me little choice, Daughter.”

“Little…choice?” My voice is little more than a squeak—meek, like the little mouse I am around my father.

“Yes, Justine. Little choice.” There’s no mistaking the condescension in his voice. “I’m here in Montovia to clean up the mess you’ve made. Why did you think I was here?”

“I…I wasn’t sure. I’d hoped—”

“That I was here to kiss the boots of King Edmund? Ha.” He rolls his eyes again. “I’ll have the final laugh in what happens between Montovia and Rosvalia, I’ve no doubt of that. But no, today I’m here to negotiate with His Royal Majesty.” The way he says the title of King Edmund leaves no doubt of how little respect he has for the man.

“Oh. But Father—”

I’m interrupted with a pounding on the door, followed by its opening. My brother stumbles inside. It looks as though someone has given him a terrible beating, and it only takes a moment for the twisting in my stomach to tell me who it was.

Reginald points at me. “She… Her husband did this.” He motions to his face. “I think he’s broken my nose. And possibly a rib.” He grabs at his side, hunching over.

My father shakes his head. “And did you at least do as much to him?”

“Yes.” Reginald nods, clutching his stomach. “He got a much worse beating.”

My eyes widen, and it feels as though I’ve taken my own punch to the stomach. I should go to him—make sure William is all right—but I can hardly go off running to him now.

I press my lips together instead, folding my hands on my lap.

“You’ve heard the whore is in love with him, haven’t you? That she’s taken their side?” Reginald’s eyes are wild, and he must have lost some of his sense if he’s speaking to our father using such language. “You know…you know they’re…they’re—”

“In love. Yes, I’ve heard.” My father shoots me a look of disgust. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I hope there won’t be any…unfortunate…details to clean up this time.”

“Father…” I’m not sure where my voice has suddenly come from, but I’ve heard enough. “I’m a married woman. I would hardly compare this to last time.”

He sneers at me for a long moment. “I should have taken the opportunity to have you sterilized when I had the chance.”

I suck in a painful breath. I’ve tried very hard in the past two years to not think about what happened at the hands of my father. I haven’t so much as allowed myself to think about it outside of my writing.

Tears well in my eyes. Perhaps my mind hasn’t healed as well as I’d thought. “Father, I can assure you, I have no intention—”

“Right.” My brother interrupts. “Like you had no intention when you whored yourself for that professor of yours. We all know how that turned out. And you’ve fallen right back into the same ways. Spreading your legs for any man who looks in your direction—”

“Enough.” I shake my head. “That’s enough. I’m…I’m married to William. And I’ll admit it—I’m in love with him. And he loves me, too. And I’m a grown woman. I’ll do as I please. If I want to have children with him—”

“We’ve had this discussion more times than I care to remember.”

“Then we’ll not have it again.” I stand, backing myself toward the door. “I’ll abdicate my claim to the throne. I’ll—”

“There’s no need, Justine. You’ll never rule Rosvalia as long as I have anything to say about it.”

I nod. “Then allow me to abdicate now—”

“And have Rosvalia the laughing stock of the European monarchs? I think not.”

I don’t want to be the one to tell him that Rosvalia is already the laughing stock of the world. “Then allow me to live with my husband. Allow me to—”

“Your…husband…has designs on ruling our country. We all know that.” He motions toward Reginald. “And I’ll not have anyone but my son taking my country when I’m gone.”

“But—”

“You’ve become a liability, Daughter. Your marriage was supposed to be a distraction—to get Montovia to look the other way while other plans were being finalized. There were never to be actual feelings between you and the Montovian filth.” He pauses, glaring at me. “How do I say this to you so that you’ll understand, Justine? After today—after I finish negotiating with that bastard King Edmund—your annulment will be granted. And you’ll never see Prince William again.”