He and Nick stared at each other for a long moment, bleary and laid bare.

“I came so close, Nicholas,” Richard whispered. “But Georgina made this sacrifice so that I could live free of the taint of their scandal. She never breathed a word to me. She never even hinted. She watched me from afar and went to her grave believing her son would be king, and if that sustained her at all in life, then I cannot take that from her even after death. Abdicating would be a slap in the face to Mother, but also to…my first mother, and I cannot bring myself to do that.”

“So you’re staying,” Nick translated. “And I assume you’re going to ask us to, too, and to bury this the same way Gran did.”

Richard ran his free hand through his hair, in a gesture that reminded me of Nick. “Edwin vanished for forty-five minutes with his wife this evening, then wandered around downstairs for about that long with his fly undone. I am hard-pressed to think the country would be very well off with him on the throne,” he said. “We may not have much to do by way of actual decision making, but we still carry a thousand years of history on our backs. It’s impossible to untangle that from this one very sordid chapter in the books. I still feel beholden to it. The monarchy may well not last. It may be deemed outmoded and swept aside someday. But if that does happen, it cannot be because I threw it away. That, I truly cannot live with.”

He scooted to the edge of the chair and leaned in, coming alive a bit. “But I wouldn’t fault you for coming to a different answer for yourselves.”

Nick blinked. “Wait. What? What are you saying?”

“If you and Rebecca decide you do not want to be part of this, I will fully support you,” Richard said. “I would only ask that you not reveal the reason for vacating your positions.”

“But succession…?” Nick said. “You would have to remove us completely. My children, too.”

“Succession can be sorted,” Richard said. “Make this decision based on you and your family alone.”

Nick’s eyes filled with tears. “All this time,” he marveled, “and it never occurred to me that there was another choice besides go public, or don’t. I…I’m afraid I don’t know what to say.”

Richard heaved a giant sigh. “That’s partly why I said nothing at all for so long,” he said. “The first thing I felt about all this was utter agony that I could have lived such a different life. Been a different person, made different choices.”

“Me too.”

“But neither do I hate the person I am, or what my choices have led to,” Richard said, more gently.