Twisted Games (Twisted, #2)(111)
That was what my words said, but my real appeal—the whole point of my speech—was directed to the public. Address their concerns about me from the start, connect with them emotionally via my confession about being scared to take on my role, remind them of the good I’d done and my experience with Parliament, and explain the logic of why the law needed to be repealed.
Ethos and logos.
I’d meant every word, but I’d also spent hours strategically crafting the speech. If I wanted to succeed as queen, I needed not only to play the game but dominate it, and public opinion meant everything when I had no real political power.
Of course, there was one important part of the press conference left.
Pathos.
“You keep mentioning the choice between love and country,” Jas said. “Does that mean you are in love with Mr. Larsen?”
The crowd held its breath. The entire country, it seemed, held its breath.
In the distance, a car honked, and a bird swooped overhead, its wings flapping against the clear blue sky. Neither disturbed the heavy hush blanketing the lawn.
I waited for one beat. Two. Then, with a small smile, I said, “Yes. I am. That is all. Thank you to everyone for coming today.”
I left the podium to a frenzy of shouts and cheers.
My legs shook, and my heart thundered as I walked to the back of the palace. I did it. I couldn’t believe it.
But I couldn’t celebrate just yet. I had one thing left on my to-do list.
I stepped into the marble-floored breezeway by the palace’s side entrance. Rhys waited in the shadows of the columns, his gray eyes burning with a molten flame. “You did good, princess.”
I stepped into his embrace, my pulse hammering in my throat. “It’s not over yet.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered, “Kiss me like the world’s watching.”
His slow smile dripped through me like rich, smooth honey. “Gladly, Your Highness.”
Rhys’s mouth descended on mine, and I heard the soft, telltale click of a camera shutter from the nearby bushes.
“Think they got it?” His lips brushed against mine as he spoke.
“Definitely.”
He grinned and kissed me again. Deeper this time, more insistent, and I pressed against him, letting his touch and taste sweep me away.
The first kiss was for the world. This one was for us.
47
Rhys
1 week later
“Your Highness!” Erhall’s assistant jumped up from her desk, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, but we don’t have you on the calendar. There must’ve been a mix-up—”
“It’s all right,” Bridget said with a gracious smile. “I didn’t make an appointment, but we would like to speak with the Speaker. Is he available?”
“Oh, um.” The flustered-looking woman rifled through her papers before she shook her head. “Yes, of course. Please, follow me.”
She led us through the Speaker’s chambers toward his office. The thick blue carpet muffled the sounds of our footsteps, and my muscles knotted with tension.
We’re really doing this.
I wasn’t scared of Erhall, but this would be my first time seeing him since I found out he was my father. Biologically, anyway. He hadn’t done jack shit to earn the honor the title deserved.
Erhall’s assistant knocked on his door. No answer. She knocked again.
“What? I told you not to disturb me!” he barked.
The woman flinched. “Mr. Speaker, Her Highness Princess Bridget is here to see you. And, um, Mr. Larsen.” She cast a quick, awed glance in my direction.
I fought a grimace.
After the past week, everyone in Eldorra—hell, everyone in the world—knew my face and name. They’d taken over headlines from Tokyo to New York, and the footage from Bridget’s press conference, as well as the “candid” photos and videos of us kissing afterward, had played on repeat on every news channel.
The press spun the story as a reverse fairytale about a princess and her bodyguard, and the commentators ran with it, penning entire articles and op-eds about love, duty, and tradition.
The public ate it up. According to Bridget, Parliament had been inundated with calls about repealing the law, and the hashtag #LoveOverCountry had been trending all week on social media.
Love was the most universal emotion. Not everyone experienced it, but they all wanted it—even those who said they didn’t—and Bridget’s press conference had tapped into that core need. She wasn’t just a royal anymore. She was a human and, more importantly, relatable to every person out there who couldn’t be with the person they wanted for whatever reason.
There was nothing more powerful than power people could relate to.
Bridget’s plan had worked better than we could’ve hoped, but it was disconcerting seeing my face all over the newsstands and having people stop and stare wherever I went.
But I’d agreed to the plan knowing it would destroy any semblance of privacy I had left, and if stepping out of the shadows and into the spotlight was what it took for us to be together, I’d do an interview with every goddamned magazine out there.
Bridget, Erhall’s assistant, and I waited for the Speaker’s response to Bridget’s visit.