Page 25 of Throne Off Course

Alexander shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “So I’m to sacrifice my happiness for a symbolic gesture? There are monarchs across Europe who rule perfectly well without spouses.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Those monarchs operate under different constitutional frameworks. Our laws are clear. You have been of age since your twenty-fifth birthday. You are twenty-seven now, Alexander. I’ve allowed you to delay long enough.”

“Laws can be changed,” he countered.

“Not this one.” Her tone was final. “Not while I have influence in parliament.”

The unspoken threat hung between them. Alexander felt heat rising in his chest.

“So this is about control,” he said flatly. “Your control.”

The Queen’s posture remained rigid, unyielding. “This is about duty. Something you seem determined to avoid.”

“I’m not avoiding duty,” Alexander said, his voice rising slightly. “I’m questioning whether all our traditions deserve to be maintained simply because they exist. Father would have understood that.”

At the mention of his father, something cold flashed across the Queen’s face. “Your father is not here. And if he were, he would tell you the same thing I am. The crown comes with responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities, yes. A loveless marriage? No.” Alexander stood, unable to remain seated any longer. “Genevieve and I barely speak. We have nothing in common. We’re practically strangers who’ve been forced together since childhood.”

“You will learn to care for each other,” she replied dismissively. “As generations before you have done.”

Alexander’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Yes, because you and Father were the perfect example of a caring, affectionate marriage. Everyone could see how well that worked out.”

The Queen’s expression hardened, a flash of something—hurt? anger?—crossing her features before disappearing behind her mask of composure.

“And if I refuse?” Alexander continued, pressing his advantage.

The Queen’s smile was thin, dangerous. “Then you will never be king. Is that what you want? To throw away your birthright, your duty to your people, because you’re too selfish to honor tradition?”

Alexander made a concerted effort to stay calm. “It’s not selfish to want basic autonomy over my own life.”

“It is selfish when you are royal.” She stood now too, meeting his gaze with steel in her eyes. “You were born into privilege, Alexander. The price of that privilege is duty.”

He sighed, looking at her with disbelief. “There must be another way.”

“There isn’t.” Her voice softened slightly, though the iron beneath remained. “The wedding will proceed next summer, as planned. You will propose in the fall. The council supports the match, as do Genevieve’s family and ours.”

Alexander’s fingers clenched at his sides. “You mean it has been approved—not arranged. I haven’t proposed yet.”

Her eyes flickered, just for a second. “Semantics. It is happening.”

He turned away, pacing toward the window. “And if I approached parliament myself? If I lobbied for change?”

“You would fail.” The certainty in her voice stung. “You know this already. You’ve been testing the waters for months, haven’t you? Quietly meeting with MPs, gauging support.”

Alexander stiffened. Of course she knew.

“They won’t cross me,” she continued, her tone almost sympathetic now. “Not on this. Not yet.”

He turned back to face her, resignation warring with determination. “So, we will need to announce the engagement in the fall,” she continued, clasping her hands in front of her. “A proper courtship period has been accounted for, and once you are wed to a woman of noble birth, as the law requires, the transition to full kingship will proceed without any further delays.”

The ease with which she spoke about his future—his marriage, his reign, his entire existence—made something sharp coil inhis chest.

“Parliament expects this,” she added, voice cool. “The people expect this.”

Alexander let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Do they?” he asked, meeting her gaze. “Or do you?”

The Queen’s expression didn’t flicker. “Do not be foolish, Alexander. You are not a boy playing at rebellion. You are the heir to this throne, and your duty is greater than your own desires.”