Page 36 of Throne Off Course

Alexander glanced up to find Emilia standing in the doorway, arms crossed, gaze sharp. He hesitated. For the first time, he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say. But Emilia?

She was already narrowing her eyes at the mess of records in front of him. “That bad?” she guessed.

Alexander exhaled slowly, glancing down at the document in his hands. “That complicated.”

Emilia moved closer, scanning the pages before looking back at him. “What are you thinking?”

Alexander tapped the address listed on one of the records. “My father kept making payments to someone in Paris. No official explanation, no public record.”

Emilia raised a brow. “And you didn’t know about this?”

“No.” His jaw tightened slightly.

If there was one thing he had always believed, it was that his father had nothing to hide. But now? Now, that belief was starting to unravel.

20

If At First You Don’t Succeed, Involve a Hawthorne

The library table was an absolute disaster—teetering stacks of books, scattered notes, open ledgers filled with useless scribbles. At the center of the beautiful chaos, Alexander and Emilia sat, looking utterly defeated.

“This is impossible,” Emilia groaned, dropping her head onto an open book. “We’ve searched every archive, examined every royal correspondence, and we still have nothing.”

Alexander methodically turned the pages of another document, his eyes narrowing in concentration. “There’s something here. We’re just not seeing the pattern yet.”

Emilia clicked her pen in frustration. “Then where do we look next? The stars? A seance?”

Alexander’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “I was thinking something slightly more traditional. Sebastian might know something.”

Emilia sat up, wary. “Sebastian? Why?”

Alexander tapped the Paris address they had found in his father’s financial records. “This location is in Paris, and if there’s one person who knows every aristocratic scandal in Europe, it’s him.”

Emilia made a face, but after a moment, sighed in reluctant agreement. “Fine. But if he turns this into an excuse to make us suffer through one of his dramatic monologues, I reserve theright to strangle him.”

Alexander chuckled. “Fine by me. I’ll ask him if he can meet us for lunch.”

As he finished sending a text to Sebastian, he looked at Emilia, then added casually, “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I heard back from the palace PR team about your podcast. They’re fine with it—provided it’s a relatively minor scandal and nothing from the last hundred years. Apparently, they’re still sensitive about Great-Grandfather’s gambling debts.”

Emilia blinked, caught off guard, then joked, “Minor scandal, huh? So, I can’t touch the time your uncle tried to elope with that pop singer in ‘97?”

Alexander’s lips twitched. “No, sadly it’s off limits.”

Sebastian was already waiting when they arrived at the restaurant, lounging back in his chair like he had all the time in the world.

“Finally,” he said, lifting his glass in mock relief. “I was beginning to think you’d both gotten lost in the archives and perished beneath a landslide of historical inaccuracies.”

Emilia rolled her eyes, sliding into the seat across from him. “Trust me, if I were to meet my untimely demise, I would haunt the archives to correct every misrepresented fact about the monarchy.”

Sebastian flashed a grin. “That’s possibly the most on-brand thing you’ve ever said.”

Alexander, ignoring them both, picked up the menu. “Can we order first, or do I have to endure more of your tragic attempts at humor?”

Sebastian placed a hand over his chest, deeply affronted. “Alexander, I’m hilarious. Emilia, back me up.”

Emilia barely looked up. “You just called me Emilia instead of Emmy. That means you actually need something. Suspicious.”

Sebastian grinned. “Very well spotted. Which means we should probably skip the pleasantries. What brings you to me today? Do you require my unparalleled wisdom? My devastating charm? My blackmail-worthy knowledge of high society?”