The Heir And The Spare

#18

EIGHTEEN

'Everything you want is out there waiting for you to ask. Everything you want also wants you.' – Jack Canfield

It didn't take too long for me to be informed Henry has been released from whatever nook and cranny they had shoved him in. The secret service had only gotten so far in making it look like he'd been the one to kill Claudia. I guess I should have been relieved that when the call came, it only took an hour to erase everything. But I can't be. An hour. It nearly destroyed his life, and it took an hour to eradicate everything. It's a fucking joke.

I'm not sure what to make of it. Charlotte doesn't help. She paces back and forth, typing something furiously on her phone. We're both hovering outside the third-floor office. It's the room where the big stuff happens - the decisions that change the world and usually where my parents greet the prime minister. I have so many questions but I know better than to barge my way into the meeting happening behind this door. James' speech has caused a tumultuous mess that no royal family has ever had to deal with. Half of the country is torn between throwing him in prison and never seeing him again or worshipping at his feet for admitting the truth.

I also haven't seen the guy since he made the announcement and that was days ago.

"What do you think they are talking about?" Charlotte suddenly stops pacing, closing something on her phone and slipping it into her jean pocket.

"What are you doing?" I stare at her. She is flushed, her red hair a mess.

"Check your phone."

I reach inside my pocket and dig out my phone, clicking on the notification I have been tagged in.

The verdict on Prince James seems to be divided, personally, I think he did the right thing. Also, rooting for him and @HRHPrincessEva. Did you see the way he looked at her as he made that speech? #goals

"Really, Char?" I raise an eyebrow at the tweet she has retweeted from a blogger and the replies are flooding in. I scan over some of them and pull a face. "People are saying you ship us together."

Charlotte leans against the banister of the staircase and offers me a smile. "My timeline is full of tweets like that," she tells me. "Everyone wants to know other people's opinions on what should happen to him, and a lot of people caught that moment between the two of you. Literally. The entire world was watching that announcement."

"I smiled at him, Jesus Christ."

"Jesus clearly had something to do with it considering the two of you haven't smiled at each other since you were twelve."

"Looney, all of you." I roll my eyes at her, but I can't help but glance back at the office door.

"What do you think is going on?"

"James literally threw himself in the shitter," Charlotte grimaces. "They will have to do some heavy cleaning up; I mean the boy admitted to killing someone in front of millions of people. Accident or not, that doesn't just go away."

Charlotte's expression remains sour as she looks down at her hands. "Doesn't he get like, diplomatic immunity?" She adds.

"I don't even know how it would work," I sigh and slump down against the railing. "It isn't like there is a rule book on what to do when a royal admits to killing someone and he isn't even a royal of this country."

Charlotte scoffs, "there ought to be."

"What do you mean?" I look up at her beside me with a frown.

"In all of history, you're telling me James Prescott is the first person to kill someone - - purposefully or not?" Charlotte laughs. "Our ancestors practically poisoned anyone they found annoying enough and those who couldn't be poisoned always found a way with a knife at their throat."