Page 52 of Throne Off Course

Alexander tensed. He knew better than anyone that Sebastian wasn’t the real issue here.

Her gaze flickered toward the headlines again. “This is the company you choose to keep, Alexander. This is the image you project.” She tapped the comparison to his father. “A king is not defined by public adoration. Your father understood that beneath the charm there must be substance, seriousness of purpose. You’ve somehow managed to learn all the wrong lessons.”

She smoothed the paper before her, entirely unbothered by the weight of her words. “The monarchy requires more than a handsome face who can win a duel and make commoners laugh. It requires a man who understands sacrifice. Perhaps all distractions should be removed.”

His entire body tensed. He knew exactly where this was going.

“If you’re referring to Emilia—”

The Queen’s lips curved just slightly, and the air between them sharpened.

“No, but how interesting that is where your mind first went and I note that you’re on a first name basis now, how delightfullyinformal.”

He had walked straight into it.

She studied him with the kind of scrutiny that could peel away layers. “This project was meant to be a formality, not a personal indulgence. Perhaps it’s time for Miss Carter to leave.”

His voice remained carefully measured. “She’s the best person for the job, the historical commission hand selected her. Removing her now would only invite unnecessary speculation. Besides, the project is almost complete.”

A pause.

Then, to his surprise, the Queen nodded. “Very well.”

Alexander didn’t trust it.

“She may stay,” the Queen continued, voice like silk wrapped around steel. “But if I find that this… arrangement has become a problem, I will end it myself.”

His muscles tightened, but he nodded once, knowing he had no choice.

Then, just as he thought he was finished, she delivered the final strike.

“Genevieve will be arriving within the week.”

Alexander tensed, his hands gripping the chair arms. “You’ve already spoken to her?”

The Queen smiled thinly. “Of course. She understands the importance of your union. And since you seem to have forgotten that, I will remind you—this match is not an option, Alexander. It is a necessity.”

His stomach turned. His mother had always been two steps ahead, but this was calculated even for her.

Bringing Genevieve now was a message, loud and clear: fall in line.

Alexander forced himself to remain composed. “Then I suppose I should prepare to welcome her.”

“See that you do.” His mother replied with dismissal in her tone.

25

When Eleanor Still Believed in Fairy Tales

After Alexander left her office, Eleanor remained at her desk, the newspapers still spread before her. His defiance lingered in the air like a challenge.

“Like father, like son,” she murmured, tracing the headline with her fingertip.

She looked at the accompanying photograph. Alexander looked almost exactly like his father, apart from his darker hair, which he got from her. Personality-wise though, she’d always thought her son took more after her.

Despite his occasional rebellious streak, he had always been dutiful, obedient—a prince who thrived on order and structure. Unlike his father, Alexander had seemed to understand the weight of the crown, the importance of duty over desire.

Or so she had thought.