Viktor

The weeks leading up to the formal wedding pass quickly, and soon Meemaw has returned and we’re preparing to host Joey, Zeus, Gracie, and Prince Manning. And Sophie, of course. For my guests, I’ve invited the entire royal family of Stölland. The queen and the king’s middle son will be joining us. ‘Tis an honor to have my former employers in attendance, and I don’t take it lightly.

My mum is quite beside herself, as I daresay she finds the Stöllandic royalty more exciting than her own family.

As one would.

Peach has vacillated between hot and cold, and she’s become quite predictable.

If we’ve had too many pleasant days in a row, with little fuss or issue, she pulls back. It’s as though she’s incapable of letting herself be happy, and I’m quite unsure how to deal with it.

But I’m presented with an unexpected opportunity for guidance with an equally unexpected phone call eight days before the formal wedding is to take place at the end of November.

I’m about to turn into a meeting with Alexander and the Prime Minister when Joey Diamonte’s face appears on my phone screen. I inform Leonie to have Alexander and the Prime Minister begin without me, and I excuse myself to my private office.

“Good morning, Mrs. Berger,” I answer, as it’s quite early back in the States, and also because it’s quite safe to call Joey Mrs. Berger from this many thousands of miles away. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Don’t be a smart-ass,” she growls. “I’m only calling you because I know Peach won’t do what I’m about to tell you to do, so you can thank me and then I’ll tell you how I’m going to make your life a lot easier.”

“Thank you,” I say promptly, because Joey is not one to make phone calls for idle chitchat.

I quite appreciate that about her.

“Judge Masterson has been removed from the bench. Have the palace make contact with his replacement, mention your displeasure with the whole marriage bullshit and that your embassy is looking into it, and you’ll have signed adoption papers for Papaya before the wedding.”

I blink at the snowflakes swirling about outside my window, which overlooks the now-dormant gardens that Peach cleaned up quite nicely before the first frost set in. “That…seems rather easy.”

“Like I said, leave Peach out of it. And if I were you, I’d make sure those papers only have Peach’s name on them.”

“Why—”

“Was the judge removed? Don’t ask. Just trust me. And you’re welcome. Fuck this up, and you’ll be walking with a limp at your own wedding.”

She’s gotten the upper hand on me exactly once, and I expect she shan’t ever let me forget it. “One more question, my lady.”

“You’re just as annoying as Manning. Quit with the my lady shit.”

I close my eyes and wince. “Yo, J-meister the Flying Acester?” I try.

“Better.” There’s a choking noise, as though she’s trying not to laugh. “What do you want to know?”

“Why does Peach insist on refusing to allow herself to be happy?”

There’s deafening silence on the other end. It stretches on so long, I’m afraid she’s considering hanging up.

But I’ve known Joey Diamonte-Berger long enough to know when to play the silence game back at her.

“You’re not an idiot, I’ll give you that much,” she finally mutters.

“Thank you, J-Diddy.”

She snorts. “Does Peach know you can actually be funny?”

“I believe she’s aware, though she delights in denying it.”

“It’s disturbing how well you know her.”

“And yet I still turn to her best friend for advice.”

She heaves an audible sigh. “How’s the king stuff going?”

“Depends on the day,” I answer slowly, feeling positive she’s going somewhere with this.

“Anyone tell you that you shouldn’t be king?”

“Not often.”

“You ever wonder if someone else would’ve made a better king?”

I think of Alexander, because without him, I should be quite lost. “Quite regularly.”

“Ever have anyone else tell you someone else should be king?”

“No, my—your bad-arse-ness.”

She snorts. “I could almost see myself liking you, Viktor.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“You know Weightless is the third company Peach founded?”

“I was aware it was not her first.”

“All government contract companies. The first, she got screwed and almost lost the shirt off her back because a dickhead kept underbidding her. He had family money and was propping up the business with outside cash so he could sell the whole company based on reputation instead of actual profit.”

I force my jaw to unclench. “I’m aware she dislikes uneven playing fields.”

“She gets screwed, Viktor. Every. Fucking. Time. And now she’s sitting in Europe, being a person who inherently gets to get ahead, watching all her tasks at Weightless being taken over by people who don’t understand how fucking hard she worked to make the company a reality. All because her family and a fucking asshole of a judge let her down. So yeah, she has trust issues. She’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it always has.”

I stare out the window while I ponder the injustices of the world. The snow is swirling thicker now, which will undoubtedly cause Papaya some indigestion. The girl had her first school dance last week—chaperoned by Eva when Peach’s presence was requested at a gala honoring the oldest female physics professor in Amoria—and she’s to have a sleepover with several girls from school this weekend.

If they’re able to reach the palace through the snow.

“I shall have the palace contact the new judge immediately,” I tell Joey.

Legal issues, I can solve.

Matters of the heart, and injustices of the world, I fear I cannot.

Though I shall try my damnedest anyway.

‘Tis what I do.