Chapter 33
Elias
“Have you seen this?” Pierre walked into my office and set a pile of newspapers in front of me.
I glanced at the first headline. The Playboy King. I set it aside and looked at the next: King Size Womanizer. The Sinful Kings Continue. Is the Throne in Peril? And the next: King’s First Mistress Makes an Appearance. All of the photographs were of myself and Adeline at the party last night, and others of my father’s funeral, where I was with Emily, but couldn’t seem to stop looking at Addie. I set them all down and looked at Pierre as I stood up.
“Fuck.”
“I’m assuming Adeline is still sleeping?”
“Yes.” I sat back down with a heavy sigh.
Last night, we didn’t go back to the party. Instead, we left through my private entrance and I had my driver bring us to my apartment in Paris. I’d have sex with Adeline anywhere she’d let me, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever be comfortable sleeping in an almost four-hundred-year-old palace. The office doors opened and both Pierre and I turned in that direction to see Adeline, wearing a white cotton robe, her hair piled atop her head in a messy bun, storming in waving her phone at us. I stood up again.
“Did you see this?”
“Pierre just showed me.” I walked around the desk and hugged her into my chest. “I’m sorry, Addie. We were just about to start discussing what we should do about it.”
“I knew this was going to happen.” She pulled away, bringing her hands to cover her face as she started pacing the room. “They’re going to paint me as the bad guy. I’ll be the one who ripped apart an engagement. Or your mistress if you continue making appearances with Emily.”
“There will be no appearances with Emily.” I walked over to her and stood in front of her, so she’d be forced to stop pacing and look at me. “Hey, you and I are a couple. A real couple. There is no me and Emily.”
“Yeah, but the press thinks there is.” There was a question in her eyes that she obviously didn’t want to voice. I wasn’t sure if it was because of me or Pierre, but either way I had no answer to it.
“We need to address the public.” I faced Pierre. “I want a camera crew and trusted reporters in here to do a live press.”
“With all due respect, we’ve never invited reporters or the outside world to a monarch’s private residence,” Pierre said. “We can do it in Versailles or one of the other palace grounds.”
“I want it done here. I don’t want a stuffy interview. I want them to feel comfortable with me. I want the public to feel comfortable with me.” I looked between Pierre and Adeline. “I also want to visit some of the protestors’ houses with Adeline.”
“With me?”
“We’re a team now, remember?”
She nodded slowly, gnawing on her bottom lip. The way her eyes clouded made me uneasy. Would she back out of this to shield herself from the media? I wouldn’t blame her. They put her through enough in London once before.
“Will you excuse us, Pierre?” I said, still looking at Adeline. I waited until the door opened and closed before I moved into her space. “Talk to me.”
“What will happen with my company? I have clients to meet in London next weekend.” She searched my eyes. “Will I be able to meet with them?”
“Of course.” I placed my hands on her shoulders to reassure her. “I’ll do the interview today. We’ll visit people tomorrow. I’m heading to London on Friday for a meeting myself, so we can go together.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll stay here?” I ducked my head a little so we were at eye level. She still looked unsure, but nodded nonetheless. I let out a breath and kissed her lips softly. “I love having you here.”
“I like being here. I can see why you like your apartment more than Versailles. It’s a lot less opulent.” She smiled. “Dare I say . . . normal?”
I laughed. “It is normal.”
“I mean, except for the insane industrial kitchen.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing at whatever reaction was on my face. The kitchen was not insane. “And the huge bathrooms that look like mini-apartments. And the fact that it’s not an apartment, but a three-story penthouse in the most expensive residential building in Paris.”
“Addie.” I cocked my head, amused by all of this. Nobody had ever pointed any of that out to me. “This is normal to me.”
“Maybe your normal is everyone else’s unattainable.”
“You’re my unattainable.”
Her expression softened as she reached up and touched my face. “I’m here now.”
“And I plan to make every second—” Just as I was lowering my face to kiss her and moving my hand to slide into her robe, the door opened. I pulled back with a loud exhale. What was it with people and not knocking?
“Well, then, I guess that answers my question,” my mother said, looking between me and Adeline.
“What are you doing here, Maman?”
“I was going to ask you if there was any truth to any of this.” She lifted the newspapers. “But I see it’s true. You’re completely disregarding tradition because of a commoner. Because of this girl who’s probably using you because you’re king and that excites her.”
“Maybe you should come back when you’re ready to talk and not point fingers and accuse innocent people of doing things they are not doing.” I stepped forward, shielding Adeline from my mother. She put her hand on my back.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
“No, it’s not okay. My mother can come back when she learns some manners.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” My mother walked forward and took a seat on the loveseat in my office. She crossed her legs at the ankles and folded her hands over her knee. “Maybe you should both take a seat and enlighten me on what you’re going to do about this mess.”
I turned to Adeline, trying to gauge her reaction to this idea. She shrugged nonchalantly and brushed past me, taking a seat on the sofa opposite my mother, mimicking her posture, as if she too was dressed in head to toe CHANEL and not a pair of my sister’s tiny cotton pajama shorts, a white T-shirt, and a white fluffy robe. It was a striking image: two women who, if I had my way, would hold the same position, but were from completely different backgrounds. I followed and took a seat right beside Adeline, setting my hand over her exposed knee. I loved my mother dearly and respected her like crazy, but I wasn’t afraid of her. I had a list of nannies I’d cower to, and for Adeline, I had a feeling I’d go to war with every single one of them. My mother took a long, deep breath and looked at Adeline.
“I’m sorry I lashed out on you. That wasn’t fair. I would like to start over if you’ll allow me to.”
“Thank you for your apology. I’d very much like to start over,” Adeline said, her voice stern but soft.
“You must really like my son,” my mother said, rather than asked.
Adeline’s body tensed underneath my hand. She took her attention from my mother and looked at me. “I do.”
“And you were willing to plan his wedding to another woman?” My mother cleared her throat.
“My mother would have killed me if I turned that down. As it is, she’s going to be furious with me with all of these new developments.” Adeline gnawed on her bottom lip, glancing at me briefly. “I need to call her before you do that broadcast.”
“Adeline never asked me not to marry Emily. I made suggestions to her that we should see each other in secret and she refused.”
“How long has this been going on?” My mother blinked between us.
“A lifetime.” I brought an arm around Addie’s shoulders. “It feels like a lifetime.”
“That needs to stop.” Mother pointed at us. “Sometimes being in a position like ours means giving up small privileges and that includes touching.” She paused. “You will be given a list of things that you positively cannot do as King. You will never bow to her. Your father never bowed to me and I was rightfully Queen. Imagine what people will say if you bowed t
o someone without royal blood. Showing public affection is also on that list.”
“Why is that?” I asked. “Because it makes us seem human?”
“Because it makes you seem weak. People will soon be wondering if you make all of your decisions with your cock.”
Harsh, but I understood it. Adeline took a deep breath and let it out with a nod.
“She’s right. Those are the kinds of things my father will crucify you for whenever he gets in front of a microphone.”
“Another valid point,” my mother said. “Does your father know about this?”
“No.”
She smiled slowly. “This may be good. Knock him on his ass a little bit. Imagine his face when he turns on the television and his daughter is sitting beside the man he hates and they’re proclaiming their feelings for each other.”
“Maman,” I reprimanded.
Adeline laughed. My mother smiled.
“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Adeline added. “But I don’t think I should join Elias in the broadcast.”
“This is the way, dear. It’s all or nothing,” my mother said.
“I’m trying to ease her into it. I don’t want to scare her away.”
“She’s going to be scared either way, Elias. She needs to know what she’s getting herself into and what she’s giving up.” My mother looked at Adeline. “What will you do with your company when you get married?”
“Married?” Addie sat straight up. “He hasn’t . . . we haven’t . . . ” She blinked and looked over at me. “We haven’t discussed marriage.”
“This is not your regular relationship, Adeline, where you can wait until the last minute to discuss major life changes. From here on out, every thought, every decision, every single time you think you need to use the loo you’ll have to discuss it with someone on the staff.”
“I understand.” Adeline nodded.
“I don’t think you do, dear.” Mother gave her a sympathetic smile. “I was bred for this and I still don’t understand things. My son was raised to be king and he’s obviously having a hard time with it and his reign has barely begun.”
“We’ll make our own way.” I held Addie’s hand in mine and squeezed it. “I’ll be there through it all.”
“God help you both.” My mother stood up. “I will be in Luxembourg unless you need me to come back.”
“We’ll be fine on our end.” I stood. “I’ll walk you out.”
“It was good seeing you,” Adeline said, curtsying slightly to my mother. “Despite the circumstances and my attire.”
“Keep your chin up, my dear.” She winked and walked away.
“I’ll be right back.” I kissed Addie on the forehead.
Chapter 34
Adeline
My stomach was in knots as they finished setting up the cameras in Elias’s home office and checked the sound. I was standing in the corner of the room beside Pierre and Aramis. Neither one of them provided me comfort. They seemed as nervous as I was—Pierre checking his phone every two seconds and Aramis bouncing on his heels. He was dressed for a workout, with a T-shirt cut off on the sides, exposing his muscular arms and ripped torso. The royals were definitely into their fitness.
“This is taking too long,” Aramis said.
“You have somewhere more important to be?” Pierre slid his phone into the inner pocket of his suit.
“No, but this is making me anxious as fuck.”
“Me too,” I said.
“Well, yeah, you’re the reason we’re here.” Aramis looked at me, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t remind me. I’m telling myself that this would have happened with or without me.”
“Yeah, right.” Aramis laughed. “My brother would have never dreamed any of this would happen. Trust me. His number one priority has always been the Crown.”
“It still is.” I felt myself frown. “Just because he’s dating an outsider doesn’t mean it’s not his priority.”
“Some will beg to differ,” Aramis said. “I’m some.”
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“No, you misunderstand.” Aramis turned to me. “I like this. He’s happy. He’s never been happy before.”
“Surely, that’s not right.” I scoffed.
“We’re actors, Adeline. We pretend a lot for the public. We smile, we laugh, we prance around for cameras to make sure the people paying taxes to afford all of the things we have think there’s no possible way that while they’re struggling financially, we’re struggling emotionally. People think rich people aren’t allowed to be in pain because they have money. We’re told this so often that at a certain point we begin to believe it.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “We’re human though.”
I looked at him for a few beats, at this man who looked so much like his brother, and let his words sink in. All of the things he said made sense, of course. It was just unfathomable that he would be so open about all of it.
“I like you.” I set my hand on his forearm.
“Good.” He smiled wide. “I like you too.”
We turned back to where Elias was sitting behind his desk. He was wearing a navy suit with a white dress shirt beneath it. He’d opted not to wear a tie and unbutton the collar. His dark hair was brushed back and there was a light five o’clock shadow on his face. He looked so fucking handsome and while his brother, Pierre, and I were balls of nerves, Elias looked completely at ease.
“Ready?” the cameraman asked. There were three reporters in the room standing behind the cameraman, all with notepads and pens in their hands, their expressions eager and in awe.
“Ready,” Elias confirmed. He looked over at me and winked. I smiled, but wasn’t sure if it was believable, as nervous as I was.
“Let’s roll,” the cameraman said.
The three of us seemed to hold our breaths as he started to speak.
“Good evening,” Elias started, in French. “You may be wondering why I decided to do a broadcast today, with little notice, and I’ll get to that in a minute. As you know, my father wasn’t big on broadcasts, and I’m hoping that’s one of the many things I’m able to change now that I’m king.” He paused for a beat.
“I woke up this morning to a slew of tabloids speculating on my personal life. This isn’t out of the norm. My personal life, as well as my brother’s and sister’s, have been up for judgment and question for as long as I can remember. It doesn’t bother us because we’re used to it. What bothers me is when an innocent is caught in the fire, and in this case, that innocent happens to be a woman I feel deeply for.”
The reporters looked over at me and back at Elias, still seemingly confused as to where this was going.
“I broke off my engagement with Emily, the Princess of Austria, not because she wasn’t the perfect fit for me, but because it wasn’t fair to her, or myself, to have gone through with a marriage I wasn’t fully committed to. You see, I’ve been seeing another woman for quite some time. She doesn’t come from a long line of royal blood or a family of knights. She’s a hard worker, some would say, a commoner, but there’s nothing common about her, as I’m sure there’s nothing common about you.”
There were gasps from the three reporters, who looked over at me, back at Elias, and back at me before they started scribbling things on their notepads. My stomach coiled. Aramis squeezed my arm and Pierre walked to stand on the other side of me, in solidarity.
“She has opened my eyes to things I wouldn’t have otherwise been exposed to. She pushes me to try to be a better person and points out my faults so that I can fix them. It is with her that I will be visiting the houses of those affected by the economic crisis we are currently facing, and it is with her that I hope to fix what is broken in our current system.” He smiled slightly. “And while I will not be giving up my throne or turning in the crown, like some of you may be hoping for, I pray this helps me grow into the kind of king you are proud of.”
He nodded once. “Dieu te bénisse. We’ll tal
k again soon.”
The cameraman did a countdown before saying, “Cut!” and switching off the camera. He was already walking out of the room with it when the three reporters stepped forward. Pierre left my side then, and walked over to them.
“You may ask your questions now,” he told them, “but remember that the king is entitled to not answer whatever he does not want to answer.”
“May we ask her questions?” the woman asked, pointing at me with the tip of her pen.
“She’s off-limits,” Elias said, looking over at me, “unless she says otherwise.”
I thought about what his mother had told me, how this was an all-or-nothing kind of deal. I’d already called my mother and told her about this so it wouldn’t catch her off guard, and after a lot of screaming and bad words, she seemed to be a little more accepting of it, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up on Elias’s doorstep tomorrow. I took a deep breath. Was I ready for this? Truly?
“I’m not ready yet.” I smiled at the reporters. “I will say this—I’ve been treated unfairly by the media in the past and I hope this is different.”
They wrote that down. The woman spoke up, “Are you happy? Are you truly a commoner?”
“I don’t like the word commoner being used as a way to speak down to someone, but I am a regular citizen.” I smiled, looking at Elias, who was watching me with a serious expression, but I could see the smile in his eyes. “And I am so happy.”
“What is your name?” one of the men asked.
“Adeline Bouchard.”
“Is your father Louis Bouchard?” he followed. “From the king’s cabinet?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Was that how you met?” the other man asked.
“No. This has nothing to do with my father.”
The Sinful King: By New York Times Bestselling Author Page 18