by Amelia Wilde
The dread in my stomach blooms and grows. What if I made a mistake by giving up so much of my freedom to be with Alec? What if I was basing my decision on faulty information? What if it’s not going to work now that he’s the crown prince?
What if this isn’t the life I want?
The next morning when I wake up, Alec is gone, but Claire is knocking at the door. Today is the day that he’s officially named crown prince, and the ceremony is at ten.
“Hey, Claire,” I say as she breezes in. Here in the palace, Claire has a key card that allows her to get into my rooms at any time unless I punch in a code on a panel next to the door.
“Jessica,” she says, her face still pale, but at least she’s smiling. “Are you finished with breakfast? The team is waiting outside.”
I smile back at her. “Just give me a minute to eat,” I say, sitting down at the tray that was apparently delivered while I still slept. “Is there anything I should know about the schedule this morning? Mostly getting ready for the ceremony, right?”
“Right,” she answers, opening the cover of her tablet. “The ceremony begins at ten, but you’ll need to be seated in the gallery ten minutes early.”
“What’s the gallery?”
“It’s the upper level of seating in the throne room. You haven’t spent much time there, so it would be easy to overlook.”
“Oh,” I say, putting another bite of breakfast in my mouth. Does everyone sit in the gallery?”
A blush colors Claire’s cheeks. “No. The seating on the main floor is done based on strict precedence, with the royal family first. It’s…complicated.”
My reaction takes me by surprise. Of course I’m not a member of the royal family. Of course I’m not a key person in Saintland politics. Of course I wouldn’t be seated in a place of preference during the ceremony.
I shouldn’t have been expecting it.
“It’s an old tradition,” Claire tries, obviously noticing my discomfort.
I look down at the plate of eggs in front of me and muster the biggest smile I can before I look back up at her. “It’s not a problem, Claire. It’s just the way things are!”
Chapter 32
Alec
The induction ceremony flies by in a blur, and there’s part of me that feels like the entire thing borders on the absurd. As Phillip had hastily informed me when I arrived back at my rooms that morning after leaving Jessica in the queen’s quarters, it would resemble a shortened version of a coronation ceremony.
“A coronation ceremony?” I stumble out, the words tripping over my tongue as I examine the outfit he’s laid out for the occasion. I hate the purple tie he’s selected, but it’s part of the customary royal attire.
“Yes,” he says, swiping at his tablet. “Apparently it’s written into Saintland law that the ceremony has to take place according to those parameters for it to be official.”
“Do you ever get the impression, Phillip, that King Edward was a control freak?”
Phillip is loath to speak of even long-dead kings with disrespect, but I’m the future king, so he compromises by delivering one sharp nod.
I shake my head and sigh, opting not to argue as I head off to take a shower.
The hot water is refreshing as it beats down rhythmically on my shoulders, releasing the stress from my muscles, but it does nothing to wash away the embarrassment I feel over what happened last night. Of all the fucking things, I had to go and fall asleep like an old man.
I bet Jessica is wondering what type of man she’s gotten herself hooked up with and regretting her decision.
Knowing her kind heart and generous nature, she’ll forgive me. I don’t know if I would be as forgiving if the roles were reversed.
I also don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for how I treated Marcus, but I can’t dwell on that now. All I can do now is work my ass off to make him proud.
And a son who my father will be proud of.
The ceremony itself goes off without a hitch, aside from the fact that something – or rather someone – is missing from the front row, where my father sits beside one of my uncles and several high-ranking Saintland officials. Where the hell is Jessica?
I pull Phillip aside after the thirty-minute event is over.
“Why wasn’t Jessica seated with my father?” I hiss.
He looks at me as if I’m speaking a goddamn foreign language. “She’s not a member of the royal family.”
I narrow my eyes at him and the vein in my neck starts to bulge in anger. “She wasn’t a member of the royal family at my brother’s funeral, either,” I say through clenched teeth.
Phillip takes a deep breath. I don’t envy him his job. “No, your highness, she was not, but the protocols for this ceremony are actually written into Saintland law. The event planners adhered strictly to the written edict when they arranged the seating.
“Your father approved it,” he added.
Swallowing my irritation, I give Phillip a curt nod. In my new role, I can’t be having outbursts, no matter how badly something pisses me off. At any rate, Jessica won’t have minded. She understands the way things need to be and realizes there are a lot of pomp and circumstance surrounding royal expectations and rules.
As I make my way through to the Great Hall leading the post-ceremony processional, I can’t stop thinking about it, though. I wanted Jessica to be right there, and she couldn’t be. She’s a square peg in the round hole of Saintland politics, even though she’s managed to navigate most of the things I’ve asked of her with surprising grace.
Marcus had the right idea about giving everything to his duties.
The thought swims around in my mind before I can cut it off at the pass, and I instantly hate myself for thinking it. My brother, I’m sure, never had feelings for a woman in the same way that I do for Jessica.
Especially in bed with Jessica, a place where I haven’t been holding up my end of the bargain.
While I’m self-loathing, a seed of truth plants itself in the back of my mind.
Marcus may not have been happy, but his decisions did make his life as crown prince easier.
Another woman could do that for me.
I spot Jessica waiting in the Great Hall. She’s standing off to the side near a long table brimming with food for the reception, talking with an ambassador from Germany. Even though the terse set of her face tells me something is bothering her, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She’s the only woman I want to wake up to every morning and go to sleep beside at night for the rest of my life.
Something else occurs to me and stops me in my tracks. Even with her grace, beauty, and poise, she’s simply not in a position to help me steer Saintland in a positive direction.
If she was to become queen, the position would be largely ceremonial and dictated by tradition, but another woman with more political pull could do more than make small talk with ambassadors.
Hot shame pierces my chest. With a start, I realize I’ve been considering her from across the room as if she were just another political asset, and a deficient one at that.
What the fuck am I thinking?
She’s the only woman to ever inspire this kind of connection in me, to ever make my time with another human being so electric and almost unbearably perfect.
How can I possibly reduce her to a political asset?
How can I possibly replace her for that reason?
“Because this is your life now,” the voice in my head rationalizes.
I can’t stop the thoughts, can’t undo it.
This is my life now.
This is what my life is going to be like until I die. I have to put my kingdom first. I have to consider what would be best for Saintland before I consider my own happiness.
Just like Marcus did.
The realities are closing in on me. There is little if any room to improvise, to push back against the status quo, especially if Saintland is going to survive another century.
I shak
e my head violently, trying to deflect the thoughts racing through my head, but everything I’ve been thinking is true.
How am I going to reconcile my love for Jessica with my duty to Saintland? Ten days ago, it would have been an easy choice, but since my brother died and I’m destined to fill his shoes, it seems infinitely more complicated.
In the meantime, I tell myself, there’s no need to make a scene.
I cross the room, introduce myself to the German ambassador, and put my arm around Jessica’s waist.
“You look wonderful,” I whisper into her ear. She leans into me slightly, just enough for it to serve as a wordless answer without being inappropriate.
But before she does, I feel her body tense. I sense her withdrawing, as if she heard my unspoken doubts.
Chapter 33
Jessica
Something has changed between Alec and I, and I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is.
He still rushes from his morning meetings to eat lunch with me, still kisses me deeply and passionately before he leaves for his afternoon obligations, and still promises every time I see him that he will be less busy soon and can spend more time with me.
It’s like he could hear me doubting him the other night.
What was I thinking, anyway? That I would be happier with a man who had no future, no ambition? Sure, it would be nice to be with someone who could be spontaneous, able to take off on a last-minute vacation without having to coordinate his plans with the entire State Department, but then that someone wouldn’t be Alec.
I don’t want to give him up.
I’m not willing to give him up.
I’m not going to give him up.
That’s what I keep telling myself. Apprehension curdles in my stomach as I spend hour after hour attending briefings and etiquette classes and outings with Claire.
Not once have I accompanied Alec at an appearance.
But Claire carts me all over the tiny country of Saintland, and I take in historical sights, local eateries, and monuments while the staff photographer from Sainthall Palace and other members of the media snap hundreds of pictures and call out questions to me.
I’m Saintland’s Sweetheart. I only wish I was Alec’s sweetheart and not just flaunted as the country’s sweetheart on the cover of the daily newspaper.
Now that my name has been released to the public, they can’t seem to get enough of me. The tabloids are stuffed with stories about Alec and me falling in love, but none of them are true. I laugh with Claire when she reads the most humorous tidbits to me, but with every moment that passes, I feel more disconnected from Alec. I question whether coming to Saintland to be with him was the right choice, and I’m desperate to have freedom and privacy to do what I want, even to wander around Sainthall without being followed by photographers. Even to uproot everything again and start over somewhere new. Yet it’s becoming clear to me now that each time I’ve picked up and moved on, I’ve been running from something—Michael, boredom, something—and not toward something else. I think I’m reaching the point in my life when I want to take a stand.
Is now the right time to do that?
I want to talk about it with Alec. A few times I manage to hint at my unease, but it never seems like the right time for a full-blown, serious discussion.
One day, when he’s almost out the door, I catch hold of his elbow and draw him to me.
He leans down for a kiss, and the feel of his lips against mine reminds me why I’m here in the first place. That unearthly connection we have is still there.
“I need to tell you something,” I say breathlessly, before I lose my nerve.
“What is it?” He looks physically exhausted and worn-out, and there’s an expression clouding his eyes that I can’t decipher.
I want to tell him, “You haven’t been here for me.”
I want to say, “I’m afraid I made the wrong choice.”
I want to ask, “Is there room for me in your life?”
Instead, I say, “I just…I’ve been feeling out of place here.”
“How so?” Alec says, taking my hand in his and clasping it tightly.
“I just wonder if there’s ever going to be…anything I can do… for you or …in Saintland,” I say, trying to choose the right words.
Alec gives me an indulgent smile. “You’re doing so much, Jessica. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“But I never see you, and what I’m doing doesn’t make my heart sing.”
“I just want to be sure that I’m right for you. That what we’re doing is right for you.” I bite my lip, my eyes downcast.
Alec smiles warmly and leans down to kiss me, softly, lightly, on my lips. He takes a few too many seconds to answer my question, and my heart wrenches in my chest. “Of course you’re right for me. I’m just a little pressed for time. I promise you, as soon as this all lets up, I’ll be in your rooms all the time. You won’t be able to get rid of me.”
He kisses my knuckles and turns away, already lost in thought.
I couldn’t help but notice the pause before he answered.
I couldn’t help but notice the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
I couldn’t help but notice that, in his hurry to get back to his duties, he forgot to tell me he loved me.
Attending yet another reception that evening, my mood is overshadowed by a dark cloud hanging over me, insistent and heavy. I don’t feel like we’ve reached a resolution, and though there’s an ache in my heart from the powerful love I feel for Alec, I’m not sure that it will be enough anymore.
That I will be enough for him.
That he can be enough for me.
So, even though my hair has been meticulously coifed and my outfit is elegant, thanks to Claire, my mind is a mess.
Which is exactly why, for the first time in my life, I cause an international incident.
The reception is being held in honor of an ambassador from Spain. Claire explained to me that he is notorious for nitpicking etiquette and protocol, so although I will be attending as a guest of the king and crown prince, I must follow every royal code to the letter.
I’m hungry and pissed off at Alec when I arrive, and the doubt is taking over my mind and growing like a cancer in my gut.
Alec introduces me to the ambassador, but as soon as I can safely extricate myself from the conversation, I make a beeline for the refreshment table.
I’m nobody when it comes down to it, and in Saintland, I will always be nobody. I’m just a pretty woman attached to the crown prince’s arm.
He doesn’t seem to care anymore, either.
My stomach growls as I start filling a plate, heaping it high with food. If I’m going to be scheduled within an inch of my life and expected to spend my free time waiting for my boyfriend to find a spare moment for me, I’m at least going to enjoy all the perks that living in Sainthall Palace offers.
It’s not until I reach the end of the table and turn around, a bite of food already in my mouth, that I realize everyone is staring at me.
“Shit,” I say, softly, but the word still seems to echo throughout the room. The Spanish ambassador is glaring at me.
He was supposed to be the first person to go through the food line.
There will be a formal dinner in a few hours, but these events always begin with heavy appetizers. The several-course meals last for at least two hours, going late into the night. I didn’t feel like waiting.
I should have thought it through before I started stuffing my face.
The silence is suffocating.
I have no choice.
I turn and set my plate on the back edge of the table, and a member of the wait staff glides by and whisks it away.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth to the ambassador, my face on fire with embarrassment.
Slowly, the conversation starts up again, but my shoulders tense and fingers of mortification streak down my spine.
I stand rooted to the spot for a full thirty seconds before I
find the courage to move to sit down among a row of seats next to the wall. After a minute, Alec joins me. I smile up at him. Never in my life have I been more desperate for someone to tell me that it was just a silly mistake, that my faux pas didn’t matter.
But his eyes are dark with anger.
“Jessica,” he hisses, keeping his face neutral, yet his anger is obvious. “Unbelievable!”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, standing up to face him but my eyes downcast in embarrassment. “I…I wasn’t thinking. I’ve been under some stress, and I got—.”
Alec scoffs. “You’ve been under stress? Give me a break.”
I jerk back at the sound of his tone. It almost feels like he’s slapped me in the face. “There’s no need to speak to me that way,” I respond, trying to retain my composure.
“I’ll speak to you however I want,” he spits, his face turning a deep red. “You’re in my kingdom now. If you’re not going to fall in line—.”
“Fall in line?” I gasp in shock, my voice coming out a little too loud and tears starting to burn in the corner of my eyes. I quickly lower it, but heads are turning to watch us. “Fall in line? I’ve been falling in line. I’ve done everything you’ve asked, and I’ve never once complained about—.”
This is useless. I might love Alec more than I have ever loved anyone, but he’s been sucked too far in to his princely role. He can’t see where I’m coming from. I straighten my back and look him directly in the eye, tilting my head in the smallest recognition of his status that I can manage. “You’ll have to excuse me, your highness,” I say sharply. “I’m not feeling well.”
I turn on my heel and stride as confidently as I can muster toward the exit, leaving Alec standing alone by the chairs.
I don’t look back.
Chapter 34