Prince: Royal Romantic Suspense (Billionaires in Disguise: Maxence Book 5) by Blair Babylon (best ereader for comics .TXT) 📗

is excellent news! We can hold the Council of Nobles meeting and elect a sovereign prince!”

“I think that’s premature.”

“But Maxence, my dear boy, you are already doing the job. Don’t you want the title and recognition that goes with it?”

Ah, Uncle Jules had come to play. “Someone needs to handle the day-to-day business of the principality. Since I am the first in line to the throne, it naturally falls to me, and I am at least moderately trained for the job. Uncle Rainier saw to it that I had at least a remedial education in administration, though of course, he prepared Pierre much more thoroughly.”

“But you’re so diligent at it. Anyone would think you were auditioning.”

Maxence shook his head. “I’m not having this discussion with you again. I have a doctorate in theology, and I have completed most of the qualifications to become a Jesuit. I have every intention of becoming a priest.”

“And why haven’t you been ordained, yet?” Jules asked lightly, and then his stare into Max’s eyes became more intense.

Maxence smiled. “The timing hasn’t been right.”

“Prince Rainier IV intervened with Pope Celestine VI.”

Rainier’s opposition to Max’s vocation was no secret. “Celestine is no longer the pontiff, and I will soon be at liberty to take my vows.”

“I would have thought you’d have pushed harder.”

“Even a prince has no authority over the pope.”

“But Monaco is a deeply conservative country. Many of our citizens want you to take up Rainier’s mantle.”

“I’ve made my intentions perfectly clear. I am to become a Catholic priest. I will repeat my determination to do so at the Council of Nobles.”

Jules didn’t break the eye contact, and neither did Max. “I’m surprised you think you are going to be able to escape taking the throne.”

Maxence shrugged and allowed his gaze to drift toward the office’s high ceiling and ornate crown moulding, trying to show his absolute disdain for this line of thinking. “His Holiness Pope Vincent de Paul will support me in my quest for the priesthood after a new prince is crowned. We are also a deeply Catholic country. His word will prevail.”

“You always seemed more ambitious than merely being an itinerant Jesuit, wandering about the globe with your liberation theology heresies. I thought you’d have given that up by now.”

Jules had always paid laser-sharp attention to the people ahead of him in the line of succession.

Max leaned forward with his elbows on the desk and stared straight into his uncle’s gray-blue eyes. “Why would I want to administrate forty thousand citizens from the Palais Princier when I can rule a billion souls from the Vatican?”

Jules’s grin finally reached his eyes, where it turned into fiery hunger. “That’s the Maxence I’ve always known, and now everything makes sense. I don’t like it when people don’t make sense.”

Maxence settled back in his seat.

“Your continued disinterest in the throne should lead you to call a meeting as soon as possible, don’t you think? Especially now that Alexandre and Christine are back.”

“Other Council members are not currently available. I believe we will have to wait a week or so until they return.”

“But the Sea Change Gala is just a few weeks away.”

“Yes, you’ve noted that on many occasions.”

“But it is. Official invitations must be printed.”

“That’s not your job.”

“And yet I know that it has to happen.”

“My position has always been that we should not rush to anoint a new sovereign merely because a charity event is scheduled.”

“But who will host?”

“Does the gala really need an ‘official’ host?” Maxence asked, not entirely able to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Surely, the Grimaldi family en masse can be the hosts of record, and guests will be happy to have their pictures taken with any one of the dozen or more Grimaldi who will be there.”

Jules shook his head. “That’s not why people buy tickets for thousands or tables for tens of thousands of euros, not to mention the VIP tickets. They have high expectations for the honor they will get for their money.”

“Would you like to host the Sea Change Gala, Prince Jules?”

“Oh, not me. I’ve reconsidered that. I’m abominable at these kinds of soirées. Everyone is expecting you, not a has-been like myself.”

“I was planning to attend, but there’s no reason for me to host officially. Indeed, many would see it as presumptuous.”

“You are the heir apparent. If you don’t host the gala, people will talk.”

Max sighed. “Let them talk. When I abdicate, as I have said so many times, their suspicions will be seen as errors.”

“And yet,” Jules said, “the Sea Change Gala is one of the most important fundraisers for Monaco’s climate change program, and preventing or reducing the effects of climate change is one of Monaco’s most important global initiatives. If you aren’t hosting, people will cancel.”

That stopped Maxence. The Sea Change Gala was vital for Monaco’s stature and program funding, and Maxence couldn’t let guests cancel and lose that revenue. “That’s a good reason.”

“I understand not enjoying these enforced social outings,” Jules said. “Why don’t you engage Marie-Therese as your co-host? That would give the gossip columns something to talk about, and it would take some of the social strain off of you.”

Maxence raised an eyebrow at Jules. “I thought you said you weren’t talking to her.”

“No, I said she’s not talking to me, which is an entirely different situation. As her father, I will continue to promote her interests, whether it’s investing her trust fund in certain financial vehicles or,” his voice dropped in sardonic distaste, “allowing her to display herself as a social media influencer.”

Maxence chuckled at that one. “When has Marie-Therese ever been dissuaded from doing something she wanted to do?”

“Indeed. If you stall much longer on calling the next Council of Nobles meeting, she might end up as the sovereign princess because all of us who are ahead of her will die of old age.”

Maxence laughed louder at that one. “I’m sure you have a good decade or three left, Uncle.”

“But the Council meeting should be soon. A