Chapter Twenty-Six

                                    

                                          
Addie, Andrew, and Theo stood together, unified, upon the steps of Buckingham Palace.
                          
People passed around them, unknowing of the critical scene before them. A foul taste settled in Addie's mouth. Her grandfather and grandmother had lived here when it was known as Buckingham House, or as it was bought explicitly for her grandmother, Queen Charlotte, it was also known as Queen's House.
                          
When her uncle King George IV ascended the throne, he then began to renovate the house first into his own personal rooms and then later into a palace, such as the one that stood today. He passed away before ever seeing the project complete, and it was Addie's own father who went about finishing it. Her own family never lived in the palace, though. Personally, Addie had only ever been in a few select rooms. And now, King Ernest sat here, basking in the rewards of others' effort.
                          
It was somewhat fitting, she found.
                          
"Take a deep breath, Adelaide," Andrew muttered next to her.
                          
"She is quite certain we are all about to be led to the gallows," Theo muttered back. "It is my fault, really. I think I quite gave her the idea."
                          
Addie couldn't help a smile, glancing shyly up at Theo. The past two days with him had been unbelievably perfect. With the exception of knowing that it was all going to end, of course. But Addie had relished just being with Theo—of getting to kiss him, touch him, roll with him in the sheets. Of spending hours getting lost in each other, their bodies joining repeatedly. Of lying next to him at night. Of simply talking about things that didn't pertain to...this. What they were about to do.
                          
She heard Andrew chuckle under his breath, bringing her back to the present.
                          
"Adelaide, they may sit on the throne, but we hold all the power," Andrew said.
                          
"I do not feel powerful, today," Addie replied.
                          
"We have the people with us, remember that." Andrew gave her a glance.
                          
"I find it hard to believe that the King truly cares about what people think," Addie grumbled.
                          
"He doesn't," Andrew agreed. "At least not all people, anyway. But he cares what society thinks."
                          
They began to approach the palace. A footman wearing royal livery led them inside to an embellished parlor that was richly colored, warm and crackling from the nearby lit fire. It seemed odd to think of her uncle living here, in such an inviting space.
                          
The man himself entered the room followed by the queen and their son, Prince George. Her soon-to-be betrothed. King Ernest was a severe looking man, tall with sharp features. He had a way of peering down at you over his hooked nose that was genuinely unsettling. Queen Frederica, on the other hand, was his opposite in appearance. Her features were soft and kind, but Addie knew it was just an appearance.
                          
Addie, Theo, and Andrew paid homage as they approached.
                          
"I just had to see for myself that it was true," the queen said. Her tone was a balance of wistfulness, just enough emotion that some might think it was genuine joy, but Addie knew that it was only longing for the news of her survival to have been false. Addie and her aunt had a moment of mutual assessment. Two English queens, both sitting together in the same space, pretending it wasn't really so.
                          
"Yes, so it is true," the king said, in a quiet appraisal of Addie. She had not worn her wig today, for obvious reasons. Emilia had insisted upon using curling tongs to arrange Addie's light-colored locks into something akin to what she might have worn before the accident. She had also carefully powdered Addie's face before adding the smallest touch of rouge to her cheeks and lips.