“But Your Majesty, what would you like me to do?” I begged. I was shocked that she’d said such kind and supportive words about my effect on her grandson. “I’ve tried contacting Edgar, but he never responds. And sometimes I’m still angry at him for not believing me and for not trying harder to work things out. And I’m not sure we can ever be together, or if that’s even a good idea, but I’d do anything to help him, so please, tell me how I can.”

“Mr. Ogden, you’ve already done irreparable damage—to England, and to my grandson. And I have no idea what you should do to change Edgar’s mind, so he may serve his country and attain some measure of happiness. I’m at a loss, and that’s why I’ve come here. There’s so much at stake. Everything, in point of fact. And it’s entirely up to you.”

“Me?”

“Edgar intends to address the Commonwealth this coming Saturday to announce his irrevocable decision.”

She was diabolical. She’d dumped everything on me: Edgar’s despair and his country’s self-image and probably climate change, while we were at it. I’d become one of those renegade astronauts in a summer blockbuster, summoned to the White House for a suicide mission to rescue the planet from an oncoming meteor. What was I supposed to do, cock my head, gnaw on a cigar, leave my Montana trailer and say, “Yes ma’am”?

Abby caught my eye, aggressively tipping her head toward the queen, indicating, “Are you listening, Carter?”

As Her Majesty thanked my parents and turned to leave, Miriam surreptitiously opened the queen’s purse and deposited a dinner roll wrapped in a napkin. As the queen exited, followed by the security team, Miriam explained to the rest of us, “For the plane.”

A second later, Ian popped his head back into the room and told me, “She means it, mate. We could use your help.”

CHAPTER 27

As I paused in the doorway to St. Patrick’s, I thought, I am the Judeo-Christian ethic, in one person. After Queen Catherine left, our Thanksgiving had become a raucous back-and-forth on What Does Carter Owe Prince Edgar, Was The Queen’s Demand About Love Or International Diplomacy, and What Should Carter Do And What Should He Wear While He’s Doing It. And while I appreciated my family’s outpouring of concern, I had to be alone.

So the next morning, after taking the train back to the city, here I am. The cathedral wasn’t overpopulated, but I knew the pre-Christmas crowds would soon be kicking in.

I took a seat near the back, inhaled the lingering incense and thought: Edgar.

Did I still love him?

Yes. Or at least I’d know for sure, if I saw him again.

Was that enough?