“Well, if you recall, dukes get to do whatever they want.” He smirked. “And this duke wants to go to New York for Christmas. See your family. Perhaps ingest a million negronis for old time’s sake. Eat some Christmas morning cereal. I’ve got Nutcracker tickets, too, for us and your mother. Anyway, you can’t be without your dog any longer.” He tilted his head and turned thoughtful. “I’m not sure I can be without your dog any longer. Isn’t that odd?”

“Is this about my list?” she asked. “Because—”

“No. This is about Christmas and where we want to spend it. I for one vote for New York.”

She’d been about to say, “Fuck my list,” and she really meant it. She had learned from Max that sometimes you had to let yourself feel what you felt, even if what you felt went against all reason. Sometimes you had to let yourself change course. Sometimes you had to let yourself love people, even if they had the power to hurt you.

“But what about your mother? Can you leave her for Christmas?”

He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “My mother isn’t going anywhere. Perhaps by next year, things will look different. But right now, yes, I can leave her. Right now, I choose to leave her.”

Well.

“And Sebastien is in agreement,” he said, anticipating her next objection. “He’s going to the palace for Christmas.” Max wagged his eyebrows. “Marie invited Mother to join them, but she has declined.” He smiled. “So . . .”

“I guess we’re going to New York tomorrow.” She grinned and hugged him.

“Probably now you’ll agree to marry me, yes?”

She pulled him down onto the bed. “Not yet.”

“Okay.”

“You know I can’t just move to Eldovia. I’m not doing a Meghan Markle. I can’t move somewhere ninety percent of the populace is white.”

“I know,” he said. “I get it.” And she thought he actually did.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Max spent the happiest Christmas of his life in New York. Which was amusing because it was also his first Christmas as the Duke of Aquilla, a fate he had been dreading for so long.

Though he had witnessed it last summer, he continued to be amazed by what it felt like to be among a happy family. There was mockery, but it was gentle. Gifts and hugs were exchanged easily. The fruitcake, which, speaking of gentle mockery, Val repeatedly informed them she had started in October, was delicious. They FaceTimed with the group at the palace. And Max had his namesake back—Max Minimus spent every second he could curled up next to Max, which was stupidly gratifying.

After The Nutcracker, Max and Dani moved to her apartment and worked. She wrote, and he turned his attention to the estate and the transition.