The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

Monsieur Bouchard was still silent.
“I do have one question,” Monsieur Gaston said. “What
will become of us? Will we also be part of Parliament, voted
on by the people?”
“That’s one of the things we need to discuss. I’ll need to
keep a small cabinet of advisors,” I said. “As for the first
Parliament, we’ll have to form a group that will go door to
door and inform the people about this so that they can start
campaigning. We should have a few representatives from
each town. Men and women. We don’t want anyone to feel
like they’re not being represented.”
“Would you keep this cabinet?” Monsieur Bouchard
asked. “I don’t blame you if you want to get rid of us . . . of
me, specifically.”
“You know what I don’t understand?” I sat back down,
pulling my chair in again. “If you hate us so much, if you
absolutely detest the idea of a monarchy of any kind, if you’d
rather see us be attacked by every single person in our town,
why be part of this cabinet at all? You could have easily
walked away from my father’s cabinet. You could have easily
quit when I claimed the throne. You could quit right now and
go back to a life in journalism. Yet you stay. Why?”
He took a long moment to think about it. “I never liked
your father as a leader. I never liked the violence or the
attack-now-and-ask-questions-later mentality. I didn’t like
the fact that he ignored the pleas that rang through the city
and swept in here.” He paused for a beat. “He spoke about
you and the way he was training you to think just like him
and well, I guess I didn’t think to give you a chance. I didn’t
think you’d want to change the way things were. I definitely
didn’t expect talks of a Constitutional Monarchy.”
“Yet here we are.” I lifted the glass of water in front of me
and took a sip.