Some deep emotion in her voice must have reached through the fog of his pain, because the king stirred. His eyes forced themselves open.

“Beatrice,” he rasped.

“Dad!” She gave a cry of joy that was part grateful laugh, and turned to shout for her mom. After all these hours, he was conscious again. Surely that was a good sign. “Mom! Dad’s up, you need to—”

“Wait a second. There are some things I want to tell you.”

Her father’s voice was quiet, but there was an urgent gravity to it that silenced her. He reached one hand, feebly, to take Beatrice’s. She clasped both her hands around his, so fiercely that the signet ring of America pressed uncomfortably into her palm, but she refused to let go.

She couldn’t help thinking of the last time she’d been at a hospital bedside, when her grandfather had used his dying breath to remind her that the Crown must always come first.

No, she thought fiercely. Her dad couldn’t die. It seemed so impossible, so cosmically unfair, that he could die when they all needed him so desperately. He was only fifty years old.

“I need you to know how much I love you,” he told her, before a fresh wave of coughing racked his chest.

Beatrice forced back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Stop it, Dad. You can’t talk like this. I won’t let you.”

There was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “Of course not. I have every intention of getting better. Just … wanted to say these things, since they’re on my mind.”

She knew that an apology might upset him. It would only remind him of what she’d said in his office, which had caused his heart attack in the first place. Beatrice forged ahead anyway. “Dad, about last night—”

“I’m so proud of you, Beatrice. You are incredibly smart, and wise beyond your years.” He didn’t seem to have heard her. “Trust your judgment: it’s sound. If someone tries to push you into something you have a bad feeling about, take another look at it. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, from your advisors or from your family. There is so much glamour, so much pomp and circumstance. Don’t forget …” His voice began to trail off, but he forced the last few words out as a whisper. “Don’t forget that it’s your position being honored, and not yourself.”

Beatrice held tighter to him, as if she could keep him here through sheer force of will. “Dad, I’m sorry. About Teddy—”

“Don’t be afraid to push back against your opposition. It won’t be easy for you, a young woman, stepping into a job that most men will think they can do better. Harness some of that energy of yours, that stubbornness, and stick to your beliefs.” He spoke carefully and slowly, each word underscored by a wheeze or a bit of a cough, but the words were certain. Beatrice had a sense that he’d memorized them. That he had been lying here in his hospital bed, composing them in bits and snatches, in the moments he hovered near consciousness.

“Dad …,” she said, in a faint voice.

“It’s been the greatest honor of my life, helping prepare you to take on this role. You are going to be a magnificent queen.”

Beatrice bit her lip to keep from crying. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, Beatrice,” he said heavily. “About Connor … and Teddy …”

His head tipped back against the sheets, his eyes fluttering shut, as if the effort to stay awake had been too much.

Beatrice let out a single anguished sob. He didn’t need to finish that sentence for her to know what he meant. He was telling her that she needed to let go of Connor—to marry Teddy, and start the rest of her life.

She felt the grinding and turning of some axis deep within herself as the human part of her fell silent and the part of her that answered to the Crown took over.

“Your Royal Highness.” The doctor creaked open the door. “I think it’s time you let the king rest.”

“I don’t …” Beatrice didn’t want to leave when her father was like this, when he’d just expended so much energy on that speech. It felt somehow that she was tempting fate.

“It’s all right, Beatrice. I’m going to sit with him awhile.” The queen appeared in the doorway. She’d washed her face and redone her makeup, clearly trying to hide the evidence of her tears. “Why don’t you step outside? You could take Sam and Jeff. I’m sure the crowds would love to see you. Many of them have traveled a long way to be here right now.”

The last thing Beatrice wanted to do right now was a walkabout, but she lacked the emotional strength to say no. “Okay. We’ll be back soon.”

She gave her father’s hand one last squeeze, then headed out to give her siblings, and Connor, the heads-up.

Sam and Jeff immediately agreed with her plan. “That’s a nice idea,” Sam said softly, running a hand through her ponytail.

“Teddy. You’ll come with me, right?” Beatrice’s voice nearly broke, but she held out a hand toward him. “It would be good for the country, to see us together right now.”

There was a moment of strained silence. Beatrice felt Teddy’s questioning gaze, felt Samantha’s radiating resentment as they both realized the import of her words.

She couldn’t end her engagement with Teddy, not right now. Not after the threat of leaving him had literally sent her father to his deathbed.