“I want to hide everything, which isn’t entirely healthy, and I think I didn’t make clear that you could do things differently,” Johan said, trying to find the words to begin fixing this. “I didn’t think that through, and I’m sorry. If this is about sexuality, you do know I’m not straight, right? I’ll be the last person to judge you on that.”

“Really?” Linus’s eyebrows were raised high. The king was having quite the morning, it seemed.

“Thanks. But it would be hard for me not to know when you’re literally famous for your . . . exploits,” Lukas said with an eye roll. “I know you kind of hide that, or lots of people look past it, but what if the most important thing to me right now is something it hurts to hide? What if . . . I’m not a prince?”

“Are you a princess, then?” King Linus asked carefully. “That’s fine! People love princesses!”

Johan shot Linus a gently quelling look. “Let Lukas talk, Papp. Please.”

Linus’s eyes went wide, but he nodded. “Go on, s—ah, child.”

“I’m neither,” Lukas said, then inhaled sharply. “I’ve always hated the idea of being a prince, and having to act how princes are supposed to act all the time. And though I do sometimes want to wear a dress and I like pretty makeup, I’m not a princess. It seemed like I could only choose between those two things! I mean . . . there isn’t even any other option. I felt so trapped and then the referendum came up and I saw a way to get out of this without hurting anyone, or having you hate me for being difficult and—”

“Lukas.” Johan walked over and knelt beside his sibling, running his fingers through Lukas’s soft hair like their mamm had done to him and Lukas both. “I would never hate you. Never. You understand?”

Lukas hesitated, then nodded.

He thought of Lukas’s outrageous behavior, and Nya’s assessment.

No one tries this hard to get a reaction out of someone they don’t want to talk to.

“Even when you told me to sit and spin. I was mad, but hate was never even an option and never will be.”

“Even though Nya left because of me?” Lukas asked pitifully. “I took the picture from her phone because everyone was starting to say they were going to vote yes. I didn’t think you’d send her away! I’m sorry, bruder.”

Johan sighed. “I’m not okay with you violating her privacy, but that’s not why she left. She had to go see her father, who is ill.”

“She wasn’t wearing her ring.” Lukas was observant. “I like her. She figured out what I was upset about and made me feel better. And she was right—she told me you wouldn’t be mad at me.”

Of course. Because Nya had always assumed the best of Johan, when no one else did. She was kind enough to search for goodness in him, even when he’d tried to hide it.

“Lukas . . . do you still want me to call you that?” Linus asked. “I’ve seen reports about this on the news but I’ll admit I don’t entirely understand.”

Lukas explained preferred pronouns to their father, and though Linus was clearly confused, he took notes and stayed quiet apart from encouraging his child.

“Let’s think about your options,” Johan said. “We’re about to do a press conference. There was going to be a lot of talk about the referendum and blah blah blah. But you have something that you don’t want to hide anymore and we’ll have a captive audience waiting to have their opinions molded. We’ll tell them what you need and make it clear that giving you what you need is the only logical response.”

“‘If you fall, make it seem like the only thing that could have happened was you falling.’ You do have some good advice tucked in with the lying and faking,” Lukas said. For the first time since Johan had returned to Liechtienbourg, his sibling smiled at him instead of scowling. “Sorry I told you to fuck off.”

“I deserved it.” This wasn’t about Johan’s own feeling, but when he thought about how long Lukas had been hurting in silence a band of guilt tightened around his chest. How much pain had Lukas been in that “sabotage the referendum” had seemed like the best course of action? “I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you to hide yourself away. I’m sorry I didn’t see you.”

Lukas shrugged, but their eyes were bright. They leaned back in their chair. “Well. Can you see me now?”

“Vividly.”

“Good.” Lukas grinned. “Just . . . please don’t go all cool brother now, sending me dresses and stuff like that?”

“Let’s go over what you want to do at this press conference. You don’t have to give them everything.”

He heard a sniffle and then glanced over at Linus, who was stalwartly holding back tears. “I have more questions, I’ll admit. And, Lukas, we’ll have a stern talk about undermining the monarchy. But . . . you two, right now? Laetitia would be so proud.”

It still hurt Johan that Mamm wasn’t there to give Lukas her own advice, but not as much as it usually did. And yes, she would be proud of her two children plotting to change the course of the kingdom’s history—if the monarchy survived the referendum.

APPROXIMATELY AN HOUR LATER, after discussing what Lukas needed from family and kingdom to be comfortable, Johan, Linus, and Lukas took their seats before the royal press pool. Lukas had added a thin strip of pink to their hair for luck, and wore a sparkly lip gloss Nya had given to them without asking questions and without judgment. Johan didn’t wonder why she hadn’t told him anything—she hadn’t wanted to take that decision away from Lukas.