^“You are all worthless!” my grandfather thunders, looking for all the world like the top of his head is about to shoot off. He’s standing at the far end of the solarium, pacing back and forth in front of the windows.

Everyone else is sitting on chairs and small couches, all facing the King as he rants and raves. I say everyone else, because he’s called my sister, my cousins, and numerous others to bear witness as he publicly flagellates us all.

Not that it really matters. After I surprised Kit and proposed on live TV, our ratings exploded. Our story, our faces, are plastered all over every social media site and TV broadcast.

We’re being talked about at pubs, housewives are swapping stories about us.

We’re basically untouchable, as far as the people of Courtland are concerned.

Not that the King gives a shit about any of that, the old codger. He points to each of his grandchildren in turn, naming our sins.

“Degenerate gambler and drug addict!” he says to Bramford.

“Won’t give me an heir!” he says to Camille and her husband.

“And you two…” he howls at me and Kit.

Kit’s digging her fingers into my knee. We’re stuck on this musty Victorian-era sofa, crammed together while my grandfather lectures the whole family. He hasn’t even begun to list my sins yet, and Kit looks like she’s about to have a nervous breakdown.

I lean close to her ear and whisper, “Relax.” Kit gives me the briefest smile and I can see her trying to draw in deep breaths.

“You two think you can just show up here, holding hands, and you’ll have royal approval for marriage?” the King asks, stalking over to us.

His posture seems so stooped, his hair so gray. I realize, for the first time in a long time, that I absolutely do not care about his opinions. I’ve got Kit, and that’s enough for me.

I lean back in my seat, ready for the King to tell me off proper. Give me a reason to leave, old man. I swear, Kit and I will be gone, living overseas so fast your fucking head will spin.

My grandfather looks at me, at the note of challenge on my face, and he gives me this slow smile.

“Alasdair, you know the rules. You’re too close to the throne to marry freely. And she,” the king points at Kit, “is not going to be a crown princess. You know what kind of stock she comes from. It’s not going to happen.”

I stand, pulling Kit up with me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” my grandfather hisses.

“I think we’re done here,” I say with a shrug. “We’ve got plans to make, airfare to buy.”

“Airfare!”

“Yeah. Didn’t I tell you? Kit and I are probably moving to L.A.”

It’s a lie, but it’s a good one.

My grandfather turns seven shades of purple at that.

“Crown princes cannot reside in L.A.!” he shrieks.

“Oh. Well, I’m not planning on being a prince anymore. I’m going to bequeath my title to Bram.”

Bram blinks; he’s as surprised by this announcement as anyone.

“You most certainly are NOT!” the King cries. “You are my blood, my direct line. You are not leaving, and you’re not marrying unless I approve it!”

“Or what?” I ask.

Kit’s literally trembling beside me, but I can’t help it. I’m so fed up with this bullshit, with my grandfather having all the power and the rest of us scrambling to please him.

“You think just because you went and pulled a stunt on national television, that I won’t bar you from marrying each other?” my grandfather asks.

“I think you would, yes. I also think you’d be wise to realize the power of the media, and that Katherine and I have harnessed it fully. After Katherine’s interview and my proposal, we’re more popular than you and Grandmother right now.”

“You have the nerve…” he snarls.

“They say progress happens one grave at a time,” I say glowering at him. Daring him to disown me, when he knows how poorly the rest of the country will react.

“I have an announcement, actually.”

Everyone turns to Camille, who stands up and clears her throat. Camille is the picture of royal perfection with her white cream pants suit and her elegantly-coiffed blonde hair. She looks like Boardroom Barbie, in a good way.

The fact that she’s standing up, drawing attention to herself like this, in front of this crowd… I feel a swell of pride, watching my sister act like the boss she is.

“Camille, really. This isn’t the time,” my grandfather huffs.

“Oh, I think it’s exactly the time,” my sister says, giving my grandfather a frown. “For years, you’ve belittled me, told me I’m not good enough in a hundred different ways. Well, today, I get to say that I’m the first one to produce an heir. Two of them, actually.”

Everyone goes silent for a second, then Kit grins and starts clapping.

“Camille, really? Twins?” Kit says, waltzing right around my grandfather to hug my sister.

That, that right there. That’s what I love so much about Kit. She’s terrified of my grandfather, but she doesn’t let that stop her from congratulating my sister.

Now that she’s freed from all her secrets, Kit doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in the way of her joy.

The Queen surprises us all by pushing up out of her seat and walking over to hug Camille, too.

“Congratulations are in order, my dear,” the Queen says, kissing my sister’s cheek. I also catch the quick hug that my grandmother gives Kit, but it seems unwise to draw attention to it.

“The books that trace our blood line will have to be consulted, double checked…” my grandfather blusters.

“I think we all know that Camille’s sons edge me out of the running to become King,” I say, crossing my arms. “Which I can’t help but think is a good thing. I have a lot of important things to do with the rest of my life, but reigning over Courtland isn’t one of them. I have a scandalous girlfriend to marry and knock up, schools in Africa to build.”

“Rex!” Kit scolds, giving me a look. “Don’t be inappropriate just when you’ve won, darling.”

Everyone is on their feet by now, laughing and talking and hugging Camille. My grandfather retreats to the corner to pour himself some Scotch. The whole event is tumultuous and loud, the perfect opposite of the usual gatherings in this room.

Something about it makes me grin.

The Queen actually beckons Kit to her side, and Kit gives me a wide-eyed glance before leaving my side. My father sidles up to me and hands me a glass of whisky to match his own: three fingers of liquid, two ice cubes, stirred for ten seconds.

I accept it, because who am I to turn down a glass of whisky?

“Hope she’s not as crazy as her Mum,” my father sighs, regarding Kit with a frown.

I consider that for a second.

“I don’t think so. In any event, it doesn’t matter. I’ve settled on her. Kit’s the one I’m going to marry, come hell or high water,” I tell him.

He snorts.

“I should damn well hope so, after you went and shouted it to the damn rooftops,” he says, sipping his drink. “Before you children came in, he was raving about how he wouldn’t hear of you backing out of the marriage now. Said he wouldn’t let you embarrass the family.”

“Then I show up with Kit on my arm, to rain on his parade?” I ask with a chuckle.

“Yes, well. I also told him that he could give you hell if he wanted to, but if he didn’t give you approval, I’d buy you and Kit each a one-way ticket to the States myself. See what happens to his precious heritage then, the grumpy old badger.”

I’m taken aback. My father stuck up for me? It’s like being told that I’m getting a phone call from outer space, it seems so impossible it’s nearly funny.

“Ah. Uh, thanks,” is all I can come up with.

We sip in silence for a few seconds.

“Your life is going to change, you know,” my father says. “Now that you’re no longer in direct line to inherit, you’ll have more freedom. But a wife means more responsibility, in a lot of ways. You have another person relying on you now. And if you start a family…”

I raise a brow. I’ve never heard my father give advice on anything outside hunting and shooting or finance, so this is certainly an interesting turn of events.

“Is that right?” I ask.

My father shrugs and looks down into his glass, swirling the last drops.

“I suppose you’re too young to remember what it was like when your mother was alive, but I loved her terribly. I’ve never been able to settle on another, not the way I did with her. I was a rambler and a wastrel before she came along, that’s for sure.” He sips his drink and looks thoughtful. “Your mother certainly changed my life, for the better. I wish she’d been around long enough to raise you properly, but you seem to have turned out well enough after all.”

I open my mouth, but my father claps me on the shoulder and walks away.

You seem to have turned out well enough after all.

Apparently that’s all I’m going to get. That’s all right, it’s more than I ever expected.

I sidle over to Kit and nod toward the door. She looks around the room and then nods.

We sneak out without a goodbye or a backward glance.

I take her hand and lead her out of the palace, where Kit takes the time to stop and talk to several of the staff that she knows by name. I find myself thinking that it’s almost too bad that she’ll never reign here as Queen, because she’d probably be bloody great at it.

“Ready?” she asks as she takes my hand once again.

Yeah, I am. For the first time in a long time, I’m ready to move forward in every aspect of my life.

I smile at her, and I know that my dad’s right. Marrying Kit will change a lot of things in my life. It will challenge me, give me responsibilities I’ve never dreamed of.

But with her at my side, I’m ready to conquer anything.

I take Kit’s hand and lead her out of the palace.

Neither of us looks back.