Royal Arrangement #3

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Royal Arrangement #3 Page 2

by Casey, Ember


  But where is Justine? Is she still out there working?

  I shuffle into the washroom and splash some water on my face. My mind goes back to the conversation we had yesterday. And to everything I learned about James Camden. I’m still furious she didn’t tell me he was coming here, but another part of me is almost…excited about meeting this man face to face, about having the chance to size him up in person. And to make it clear to him that she’s mine now. I don’t care what she thinks is happening three months from now—I have no intention of releasing her from this marriage. And especially not for him.

  Straightening, I look at my reflection in the mirror. My skin is still covered in grime and there are dark circles under my eyes, but in spite of everything, I find myself grinning.

  Justine

  It’s been two weeks since the storm, and two weeks since I’ve seen William. It’s been easy to avoid him, really. I made sure I was assigned far away from him when I was helping with the cleanup in the city, and there’s been so much to do with planning the upcoming conference that I’ve been spending my nights working until I drop from exhaustion.

  I’ve moved into a guest room near my office. And it isn’t as though William has tried to come and find me—he probably wants as little to do with me as I want with him. Thankfully, dinner has been canceled each night since the storm—my father has been out of the country on some business thing and my mother… Well, let’s just say she’s probably been drinking her meals.

  It’s just as well. Keeping myself busy has made the time pass more quickly. Until my run-in with William at the shelter two weeks ago, I’d thought that perhaps we might have a chance at something more than hatred for each other—perhaps we might even be able to like each other, if not fall in love. I can’t deny the attraction I feel for him, but it clearly takes something more than sexual chemistry to make a marriage work.

  I’m still not sure what William intended when he confronted me about my relationship with my professor. It was not my idea to ask him to come to this conference. My schoolmate insisted that I invite him as the keynote speaker, which makes sense, given that James is a world-renowned poet.

  But he betrayed me. He left me in my time of greatest need and crushed my heart.

  It really wasn’t until William’s confrontation that I allowed myself to feel anything about having to see James again at all. My stomach has been a hard knot for two weeks now, dreading the moment when I’ll have to greet him. I had thought it would be easier having my husband at my side when he and I had to meet again, but it’s become clear that William wants nothing to do with me now.

  No, I’ll have to figure this out on my own. I can keep my walls up, as I have for most of my life. I don’t have to allow myself to feel anything at all when I see James again in a few days, just as I’ve tried to keep myself from doing since the last time I saw him.

  And I don’t need a husband. William can keep on doing whatever it is he’s doing. The last I heard, he was still helping with repairs around the city. And as much as I respect the fact that he’s taking care of the people of Rosvalia, he clearly has his own reasons for doing it.

  I make my way over to the guest suite where I’ve been staying. I’m exhausted—I feel like I haven’t slept in the past two weeks, and there’s little chance I’ll sleep at all tonight. There’s too much to do—between ensuring our citizens have all that they need after the storm, preparing the venue for the conference, and actively trying to avoid William, sleep is at the bottom of my priority list.

  A light is on when I open the door to the suite, and it is only a moment later that William speaks. “Hello, Princess.”

  It feels as though my head might touch the ceiling when I startle at the sound of his voice.

  William stands from the sofa across from the bed. This is one of the smallest guest suites in the palace—it’s little more than a bedroom and bath. He crosses the room in an instant and stops in front of me. “We’ve played this game long enough.”

  My gaze narrows and I glare at him for a moment. “I assure you, Your Highness, I’m not playing any games.”

  “Really? I haven’t seen you in two weeks.”

  “Nor I you.”

  William’s gaze narrows to match mine. “I’m not the one who hasn’t been sleeping in our suite.”

  “And yet, I gave you the option. You were the one who decided not to take the opportunity to—”

  “What are you doing?”

  I take a half-step back and motion to the bed. “I’m attempting to go to sleep.”

  His gaze narrows even farther. “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t, Your Highness.” I motion to the bed again. “As you can see, the bed is too small for two to share.”

  He takes a full step toward me, coming closer than he was before. “Why are you here? In this room? By yourself?”

  “I thought that would be obvious.” I take another step back. “I was giving you your space.”

  “I don’t recall asking for space. In fact, I thought we’d shared a moment—”

  “A moment? The moment when you confronted me about my former lover in front of my citizens?” I nod a few times. “Yes, Your Highness, that was some moment.”

  He takes another step toward me. “Before that.”

  “Ah, yes. The night before that when I begged you to fuck me. I do apologize for that, Your Highness. I was out of my mind. Delirious, even. You can rest assured that it will never happen again.” I take another step back, but now I’m out of room and my back is pressed against the wall, giving me nowhere to go. I motion to the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really am exhausted. I only have two days—”

  “And apparently, I only have eighty.” He takes another step toward me. “Why are you avoiding me?”

  It’s not as though I can simply tell him the true reason. And I’m not sure I understand it myself. I only know that I can’t allow myself to be betrayed again. I can’t let him see that I’m terrified of things getting any more serious between the two of us than they already have. It will only end with my having another broken heart.

  I lift my chin. “I’m not. I’m simply working—”

  “You moved out of our suite while I was helping to reconstruct the bridge—”

  “And I hear you did a fine job. I know our citizens are appreciative—”

  “I don’t need appreciation. Not from them.” He takes another step forward so that he’s almost touching me. “I want to know why—”

  “It took you two weeks to decide that, Your Highness?”

  He takes another partial step toward me, and his body is so close to mine he’s almost pressed against me. The electricity between us sends a pulse through my body, and I wonder if he can feel it, too.

  He lifts his hands to rest on the wall on either side of my head before he tips his forehead to mine. “I’m tired of this game, Princess.”

  My heart feels as though it might beat out of my chest. “As am I.”

  “Then let’s play a different game.”

  My breaths are coming too fast, and it’s too difficult to speak.

  He tilts his head and leans forward in what seems like an attempt to kiss me.

  I’m not sure what happens—I must panic because I duck under his arm and out from against the wall. I back myself toward the door instead. “I don’t think I want to play that particular game either, Your Highness.”

  He smooths his clothes before he runs a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

  I nod. “Fine.” I turn and open the door, motioning for him to leave. “I think it’s time you go.”

  He shakes his head as he walks to the door, tearing it out of my hand as he slams it closed and locks it. He turns to me. “No, I won’t be leaving tonight. And neither will you. Neither of us is going anywhere until we talk.”

  I roll my eyes. “I have never met a man who wants to talk as much as you do, Your Highness.”

  “And I’ve never met a w
oman more infuriating than you, Princess. Now…” He motions to the sofa. “Have a seat.”

  “I think I’d rather stand, thank you.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What is it you want to talk about so desperately that it couldn’t wait till morning? What was so important that it waited two weeks for you to come and discuss it with me?”

  “Oh, that’s rich. You’re blaming your disappearance on me?”

  “I did not disappear. You would have only needed to speak with someone—”

  “No one speaks to me in this palace, Princess. I think you know that better than anyone.”

  I’m sure he can see the look of confusion on my face. “Why would I know that better than anyone? I’ll admit that I didn’t want to see you—”

  “I think you’re in on this. The whole eighty more days thing and the whole no one in the palace is to speak to me thing.” He nods. “I think you arranged it all with your father. I think—”

  “I think you’re having paranoid delusions.” I frown, narrowing my gaze. “You really think so little of me? You honestly believe I could be capable of doing such a thing to anyone—?”

  “That’s just it though, Princess. I don’t know what you’re capable of. You don’t speak to me. You avoid me. You’ve moved out of our suite, for God’s sake—”

  “I moved out because you wouldn’t. And because you accused me—”

  “I never accused you of anything, Princess. I would never—”

  “You did.” I nod, folding my arms tighter across my chest. “You accused me of lying. You—”

  “You were lying.” His gaze narrows again. “You did lie.”

  “I never lied to you, William. Not once.” I stare at him for a moment. “I would not lie to you any more than I would try to make you feel uncomfortable here. And I can assure you, I am not in on any conspiracy to do that.”

  “Hm. Forgive me for not believing you, Princess.”

  “Then why did you come tonight, Your Highness?”

  “I told you—”

  “You told me nothing. And you still haven’t said what was so damn important that it couldn’t have waited until morning—”

  “You want to know why? Why I came here? Why I couldn’t stand being alone a minute longer?” He flings his arms over his head and flails about as though he’s lost his mind. “You really want to know?”

  “I think you need to see one of the palace physicians. I think—”

  “I think I married you. I married you and promised to be your husband. And you… You promised to be my wife.”

  Something twists in my stomach and my chest burns. “And neither of us has met those obligations. I can be the first to admit that—”

  “Come back to our suite tonight.”

  I shift, crossing my arms over my chest again. “No.”

  “No? Why the hell not?”

  “Because I don’t want to. Because—”

  “Because you’re still in love with him.” He nods and drops onto the sofa. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re still in love with him. And now that he’s a free man… Now that he’s actually divorced—”

  “Is that what you’ve been telling yourself these past few weeks? Even though I assured you—?”

  “You’ve assured me of nothing, Princess.”

  “Well, I’ll assure you now—”

  “Prove it.”

  “Prove what?” My brow wrinkles with confusion. “That I’m not in love with James Camden?”

  He nods. “Yes. Prove it.”

  I can’t believe he would think I could actually still love that man after what happened between us. If he only knew what had transpired, he would never be able to accuse me of such things.

  I shake my head at him. “And how exactly do you want me to do that, Your Highness, when my word isn’t good enough for you?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  I shake my head again. “You’re delirious. Or insane. Or both.” I stare at him for a moment. “You need to go back to your room and go to sleep. You need—”

  “You have no idea what I need, Princess.”

  “I think I have some idea.”

  He stands again, crossing the room to stand in front of me. “Prove it to me.”

  “I’m not in love with him. That’s the only proof you’re going to get from me. You’re going to have to take me at my word—”

  “I’ve already told you, I don’t trust your word.”

  “Then there’s nothing else I can do.”

  He lifts a brow. “I can think of many things you could do—”

  “Having sex with you doesn’t prove anything. It doesn’t prove I’m not in love with him.”

  “I wasn’t asking you for that.”

  I shake my head. “Then what were you asking me for, Your Highness?”

  “Come with me.”

  “What?” I take a step away from him. “W-what?” I take another step back. “You said you weren’t leaving the room until we talked. You said—”

  “I changed my mind.” He nods and motions to the door. “Come with me.”

  “Where? I thought you didn’t know how I could prove anything to you—”

  “Just come with me, Princess.” He grabs me by the wrist, sending a bolt of electricity up my arm. “Come with me.” He pulls me by the arm as he opens the door.

  “Where? Where are you taking me?”

  He turns to face me, grinning. “Just come with me. I have an idea.”

  William

  I’ve never met a woman as difficult as Justine. And I’ve never felt the need to impress anyone as much as I do her. It’s not just because she’s my wife—though I’m sure that’s part of it. Something about her—her stubbornness, maybe, or her determination to keep walls up around her—seems to inspire something in me. The more she tries to hide, the more I want to tear those walls right down. It’s an infuriating and intoxicating spell.

  She’s a mystery to solve, a tangle of spirited emotion I want to unravel. She might be angry and distrustful toward me, but her love for her people has made it clear that there’s a deep, compassionate heart beneath her prickly exterior. And I find myself desperately wanting to know how I would have that compassionate heart turned on me.

  Justine doesn’t try to pull away from me as I lead her out of the room. Maybe she’s tired of arguing, or maybe I’m finally getting through to her. I still don’t entirely believe that she doesn’t have lingering feelings for that James Camden bastard, but I’m not going down without a fight.

  No matter how much we argue, there is still one way I know how to reach her. And tonight has offered me the perfect opportunity.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asks as I lead her through the palace.

  “It’s a surprise,” I tell her.

  I take her outside and down the front steps. A couple of the guards eye us as we leave, but none of them will try and stop me, not if Princess Justine is with me.

  The night air is cold—I wouldn’t be surprised if we see our first snowfall of the year soon. The wind whips around us, plastering our clothes to our bodies and sweeping Justine’s long hair across her face. She pushes it out of her eyes and tucks it—only somewhat successfully—behind an ear. She looks so lovely I stop breathing for a moment.

  I spent most of the day helping with the last bit of work on the bridge. The damage was bad, but the repair progress has been swift—because of the people, if not the royal family. Justine, like I, has worked herself to the bone doing what she can to help, but I’ve been shocked by how little King Maximilian and the other members of the royal family have done. As far as I can tell, far more money and care is being put into repairing superficial damages to the palace rather than the crucial infrastructure repairs in the city itself. And Maximilian straight up left Rosvalia last week, as if he couldn’t be bothered with his own country right now.

  Anger burns inside me just thinking about it. My father is a stern man, like Maximilian, but he’s never given anyon
e reason to doubt his dedication to our country and its people. He would do anything for Montovia, as would my brother Andrew, the heir to the throne. The only one here who seems to care that much is Justine, and she’s already told me that she has no actual desire to be queen.

  Even though she’s exactly the sort of queen her people need, I think, looking over at her. The one they deserve. She has the compassion, the intelligence, and the fire to protect these people.

  And her people love her for it, too. In fact, when I heard a man grumbling about the fact that the royal family still presumed to hold their international arts summit, another quickly shut him down, defending Justine and explaining that their princess knew that the event would bring much-needed money and economic support to Rosvalia. The people of this country put a great amount of faith in her.

  Tonight, though, isn’t about money or need or faith. It’s about taking a breath, a moment, in the middle of all of this worry and work.

  I can already hear the music from here, and with it, the sounds of voices and laughter.

  Justine looks up at me, surprise crossing her features.

  “I’d almost forgotten,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me. “I’ve been so busy with the conference…”

  I grin, quickening my step. She doesn’t resist, hurrying along beside me toward the main square of the city.

  Rosvalia doesn’t seem to have many of the great, days-long festivals like we do in Montovia, but that doesn’t mean the people don’t like to celebrate. Today is the feast day of the city’s founding saint, and over time it also became the day the citizens of this country celebrate the end of harvest and the unofficial beginning of winter. Several of the men I was working with invited me to attend, but I politely declined, thinking I’d be too exhausted and distracted to enjoy myself. But now that Justine is with me…

  We turn the final corner. The music is coming from a large building on the far side of the square, though plenty of people have poured out into the streets, laughing and drinking and dancing. One of the men I met this week told me the building—called the ‘Hall’ by most—was originally built in the twelve hundreds, though obviously it’s been restored and renovated many times over the years. Many people believe it to be the oldest building in the city, perhaps in all of Rosvalia. It’s often used as the hub for major events in the city.

 

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