Is it so bad being Alex’s mistress? At least I get to see him every week, if not every day. At least I’m allowed to bear his children.
But is it the life I want?
All I do know is that I love Alex more than life itself. But is being second best enough for me down the line?
Jasper and Madame Fournier are at the breakfast table. Their eyes are bloodshot and their shoulders droop with fatigue. Alex is nowhere to be seen.
“Good morning, Ms. Turner.”
“Good morning, Jasper. Is Alex around?”
“He is having an audience with his mother, the Queen, and his sisters.”
Oh. It must be important at such an early hour.
Madame Fournier says, “Are you all right, Elizabeth? You look distressed.”
I sit down. “No, I’m not all right.”
I take a deep breath and tell her everything. Both of them. They listen attentively, and when I have finished, they exchange knowing glances.
“What?” I say. “What are you not telling me?”
Madame Fournier says, “The King will be making a public announcement soon. Last night, a Molotov cocktail was flung at the Ecclesiastical Castle.”
My pulse thuds at my throat. It is exactly as Alex has predicted. Some quarters are itching for an excuse to fight the church.
“Alexander feels responsible. We spent all of last night crafting his public speech. He will address the world at noon.”
At noon!
“He told me nothing of this speech,” I say faintly, “only that he has to calm the masses down.”
“He is doing exactly that.”
“He didn’t wake me. I could’ve . . . helped.” Even as I say that, I realize how lame it sounds. How can I possibly help to craft a King’s speech?
“He specifically asked for you not to be disturbed,” Madame Fournier says pointedly.
Of course. I would only mess up things. Crestfallen, I stare at my empty plate.
I have become a hindrance to Alex. No wonder he is distancing himself from me. I don’t blame him. Perhaps I should not have said ‘yes’ to his proposal. I should have stuck to the plan I made with Tatiana, left for Chicago, and everyone would be much happier. Even Alex, in the long run.
I am so woebegone that Madame Fournier reaches out to touch me lightly on the shoulder.
“Don’t fret so much, Elizabeth, about things out of your control. Just have faith in Alex to do the right thing.”
“Yes, I do.”
Even Jasper looks sympathetic. They do know something they’re not telling me.
How awful can it be?
11
At noon, we crowd around the TV in the parlor to hear Alex’s speech. He is at the station, ready to go on a special news segment that will be broadcasted live to the world.
“Where’s the Queen?” I ask Jasper and Madame Fournier. It seems strange that in times of such crisis, I am left with two of them instead of Alex’s family. Very telling, I know.
“The Queen is in her suite. But Marie is at the station with Alex.”
Oh. So he has decided to ask his sister to tag along instead of me. I don’t blame him. She’s a princess of Moldavia after all and she, like, has a political I.Q of 262. She would be a much better co-presenter for him.
Alex faces the cameras. He’s impossibly handsome, heartbreakingly so. They have combed his hair and made his dark circles disappear. His forehead is smooth and unlined once again.
He begins:
“I come to you, today, people of Moldavia, as a citizen. A few hours ago, I discharged my last duty as King.”
My hand flies to my mouth.
No, Alex, no.
“I will be succeeded by my sister, Marie Vassar, Princess and second born of Moldavia. My first words must be to declare allegiance to her.”
Why, Alex, why?
“The reasons which have compelled me to renounce the throne are for the greater good of the people of Moldavia. I do not wish to be the cause of a separation of the state and church in the hearts of the people. I do not wish to be a King who would revoke a law centuries old just because it inconveniences him today.
“For what are we without laws? It was a law that was put in place for a very good reason. It was a law that protected Moldavia’s sovereignty in its time. It was a law that allows us to walk freely today and count ourselves as one of the richest nations in the world.”
Tears run down my cheeks and stain my lips with their salt. I do not attempt to brush them off.
“But in accepting the letter of the law and acceding to the decision of His Grace, the Archbishop of Moldavia, I will find it impossible to perform my duties as King without the woman I love by my side. The decision I have made is mine and mine alone, and it is a decision for the greater good of my fellow countrymen.”
A hand snakes around my shoulders. Madame Fournier, her eyes glistening, has chosen this moment to crumble her ice queen façade and comfort me in my hour of need.
“The decision has been made less difficult for me by the sure knowledge that my sister, Marie Vassar, will succeed me. Marie has graduated with top honors from Yale in economics, and with her brilliance and ambition, she will undoubtedly steer this country to further magnificence.”
He pauses, clearly overwrought. Marie steps up from the side, her eyes shining with tears. She takes her brother’s arm.
Alex continues, his voice shaking slightly, “Let us welcome into this twenty-first century the first female ruler of Moldavia. Long live the Queen. God bless you, my fellow citizens.”
The video feed winks out.
The room is silent as the anchorwoman cuts in with a “Now, that was a stunner of a speech.”
Yes. I know.
I bow my head and sob my heart out for Alex and everything he has lost for me. I sob and sob, unable to stop even to draw breath. My head hurts with a splitting headache and I can feel my soul splintering in two.
Madame Fournier puts her arms around me.
“He didn’t want us to let you know what he was doing. He was afraid you would try to stop him or do something as foolish as you did like leaving him for his own good,” she says.
I would have done it too. I can’t bear how much Alex has given up for me. It isn’t fair to him. It isn’t fair!
They let me cry and cry until I’m dry all over, and then they leave, sensing that I’m not going to stop crying anytime soon within the day. The light outside the windows shift and change, denoting the passing of the sun. I stay there in the parlor, stoned – not moving, not even blinking until the door quietly opens.
Alex slips into the room.