Lydia did not seem to be bothered in the least.
She took Felicity through her paces, setting up course after course of tables and chairs.
“When you sit, be sure to sweep the train of the gown under you so that it doesn’t bunch,” said Lydia, nearly thirty minutes later. “And when you rise, look down for a moment before you do.” Then it was up and down, up and down, until Felicity’s face was pink with the effort of managing the gown. On the last run-through, she tripped on the hem and nearly toppled over.
“I believe that’s all for the day,” Lydia said, watching Felicity. “Next time, we’ll work on table manners.”
“Table manners?” Felicity’s eyebrows rose.
“Of course. You’ll be photographed at many of the royal events.” Lydia laughed, reaching out to put a hand on Felicity’s elbow. “Not the basics, dear. Table manners for royalty.” Lydia turned and dipped a small curtsy to Rafael. “Your Highness.” He nodded back to her, and she swept from the room.
Felicity made to follow Lydia out of the room. “Wait, Felicity.”
She stopped, biting her lip, and faced him. “Am I being sent to the principal’s office?” The hesitancy disappeared from her face, replaced with a kind of quiet defiance.
“I wouldn’t know what that’s like,” he shot back. “No one ever sent me there.”
He expected her to snark back at him—to tell him of course not, you’ve always been royalty—but Felicity’s shoulders sagged. “I believe that. You’re good at this.” She sat, gathering the long train behind her and flipping it out of her way with one hand. It was the most elegant movement he’d seen from her all day. “I’m good at some things. I was good at my job. I was great at talking to people, helping them, finding them solutions…” Her voice trailed off. “I guess it doesn’t translate.”
His heart softened. “In a way, it does. But part of being in human resources is making sure others follow the rules, right?”
“True.” She shrugged. “But I didn’t have to memorize them. I could look them up.” Hope brightened her eyes. “Maybe we need a database of the royal rules.”
“Would that help?” Felicity seemed to struggle so much with following all of the protocol at the same time. “Because if it would help, I could have some people get together and work on it.”
“It might,” Felicity said, giving a little shrug. “There are so many things to remember at any given time. I know I haven’t taken to it easily, but it’s like learning to swim after never having been in the water. Plus…”
“What is it?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Tell me.” He stood up straighter.
“You’re so perfect at all of it. And I know I’m playing catch-up, but…” She screwed up her lips. “It’s always going to be more obvious that I’m learning when I’m standing next to you. That’s…not always easy. I’m not sure if I’ll ever…” Her voice softened, and when she looked into his eyes, something shifted in Rafael’s chest. You’ll be fine, he said. Once we can be ourselves, you’ll be fine. But he couldn’t say that out loud. It might never be the case that they could let their guards down entirely.
“You’ll have to,” he said, knowing that it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “It’s what everyone in the royal family needs to do.”
Felicity pressed her lips together, saying nothing.
“After the referendum passes, we’ll have the rest of our lives to figure out what’s next.” If anything, he thought, but didn’t say it.
There was a pause, and he could see in Felicity’s face that she was thinking of arguing. In the end, she stood up, surprisingly gracefully, and moved toward the privacy screen at the back of the room. “I’m going to get changed,” she said. “I’ll be on time for my next session.”
He watched her go, wanting to call her back but not ready to face the impending discussion at the same time. All the history had been too much. He found himself peering at his shoes.
“Rafael?” Felicity’s voice was soft, tentative. “Was there something else you needed?”
What he needed was for the referendum to go in his favor. What he needed was to somehow go back in time and make all of this go differently, so it wouldn’t be so painful. But he knew that digging in now would only exhaust them both.
“The gown looks beautiful on you,” he said, and then he went out, back to his work.
6
Hope lifted the silver tea set carefully in her chubby hands, and Felicity hesitated. She wanted to give her daughter a chance to master pouring tea, but this was a little more than she’d bargained for when she and Joy, along with the nanny, Sara, had planned this little tea party. After the lesson that Rafael had cut short, Felicity had been feeling more than a little defeated. Joy had noticed.
“Let’s do something fun,” she'd suggested. “Something with Hope. It’s hard to be so down around her. She’s staying in rooms fit for a princess—let’s have a princess tea party.”
Sara had jumped right into the idea with more enthusiasm than Felicity had expected. “We can hold it in the playroom,” said Sara. “I know where to get the sets from the kitchens.”
“The kitchens?” Felicity hadn’t known what to make of that. “I’m sure there are some dishes and things among Hope’s toys that we can use. There’s no need to—”
“Hush,” Sara said, with the easy authority of someone who was used to making plans and carrying them out. “The party will be set for tomorrow afternoon.”
The tea set that Sara had brought up from the kitchen was perfect—Felicity had to admit it. It was about half the size of a regular set, not quite miniature but small enough for Hope’s tiny hands to easily handle while still being large enough that they wouldn’t have to just mime drinking from them. Sara had even gone to the trouble of mixing lemonade for Hope to pour.
The girl was in her element. There was no shortage of fancy play dresses in the wardrobe that Rafael insisted on ordering, and she wore a pink frilly number with a matching headband. Sara had dressed her in it while Felicity got ready for the party, giving her a pang of guilt. It had been easy to step away for a moment. She hadn’t had that kind of leeway at home. But maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, to take advantage of it.
“All right,” she said, smoothly as she could. “Tip the spout toward the cup, and pour the tea…” Hope stuck out her tongue in concentration, holding her hands as steady as she could. Felicity wanted to cheer as Hope filled the first cup. Then she thrust the teapot toward Felicity.
“Mama’s turn.”
Her daughter beamed up at her, and Felicity tried to smile back. As the queen, she would someday be expected to host teas and receptions for the women of the court, and Lydia had tried to prepare her by having her practice over and over again. Rather than filling her with confidence and certainty, she now just felt a sinking dread whenever she saw a teapot. But she couldn’t let her anxieties spill over onto her precious child.
It’s only a game, Felicity told herself. Hope certainly won’t know the difference—and you’re doing this to make her happy.
“Now we pour for all our friends,” she said to Hope, who was still watching her like a hawk. She poured the rest of the tea, offered milk and sugar, and sat down in her seat around the little table, back straight. Hope climbed into the chair next to her. “In order to drink our tea…” She demonstrated the next move, lifting the cup from the saucer. “We lift our cup, drink…” Felicity took a sip of the “tea.” It was delicious. “Mmm. It’s very good.”
Hope copied her exactly. “Mmm. Is very good,” she repeated, and Felicity thought her heart would burst.
She guided Hope through picking a cookie from the assortment and refilling the teacups, and it wasn’t until she guided the conversation into completely appropriate small talk that she felt him there.
Rafael.
Felicity looked up into his face, her cheeks reddening, but his face was full of…pride.
“Hello,
” she said, sitting straight and offering him her hand, bowing her head. “King Rafael. How lovely for you to stop by.” The words tasted so formal and odd in her mouth that the heat in her face kicked up another notch.
“That was perfect,” he said, and she could hear the sincerity ringing in his voice.
“Oh,” she said, waving him off. “It was nothing. We were just having a tea party, weren’t we, Hope?” She smiled down at her daughter.
“No,” protested Rafael. “You were flawless. The serving, the conversation…” He trailed off as if he didn’t know quite what to say. Felicity knew better. It would be a little rude, wouldn’t it, to remark on how terribly she’d struggled with the other lessons in royalty? Even with this lesson—when practiced in a different context?
In any case, she couldn’t stop smiling. “Anyone for more tea? Rafael?”
* * *
He couldn’t believe it.
Felicity had served the tea like she’d been doing it all her life.
Hope gave a yawn, and Sara was there in an instant, scooping the little girl up from her chair. “Naptime,” she called cheerfully, and bent down so Felicity could kiss Hope’s cheek. Then they were gone, bustling out the door.
“I’ve got some things to catch up on, now that the party’s over,” said Joy, wheeling herself after them. “Don’t let that tea go to waste.” She winked, and then she was gone, too.
“You did well,” said Rafael, and Felicity stood up.
“Thank you.” She kept her eyes firmly on the table, on the tea set and cups and saucers, still mostly filled with lemonade. “I should get this cleaned up and—”
“No.” He knew he shouldn’t do it. He shouldn’t touch her. But he couldn’t stop himself from putting a hand on her elbow. “You were wonderful.”
Felicity met his eyes, her own gaze hot. She licked her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue and Rafael wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to run his own tongue over that lip. “Thank you for noticing,” she whispered. Rafael’s hand was still on her arm, and Felicity took one step forward, closing the distance between them.
His own breath seemed rough and ragged in his throat, and the air was charged with an energy that left him feeling like there wasn’t quite enough oxygen in the room. Felicity didn’t pull away, and he lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles against the soft skin of her cheek.
She closed her eyes, her head falling back ever so slightly, and Rafael felt the urge to ignore the guidelines that had kept them at arm’s length.
He bent his head to her neck.
There were rules. Rafael had come up with a strict set of rules for himself. They would not get physical during this time. There would be proximity—of course there would, now that Felicity was living in the palace and Rafael was trying to find his place in Hope’s life. Hugging—that was permitted. A steadying arm around the other person’s waist—permitted.
But this?
This crossed the line.
There was not supposed to be any kissing. He was not supposed to be brushing his lips along the delicate flesh of her neck. Rafael pressed one kiss to the throb of her pulse beneath her skin. Felicity let out a sigh that nearly undid him then and there.
“Oh, you can’t do that. You can’t be the only one who’s doing that,” she murmured, and then she hooked an arm around his head and pulled him down to her level. She took his earlobe between her teeth, barely applying any pressure, and sheer desire shot straight through his body and to his cock.
“Unfair,” he said, and Felicity laughed, low and sensual. He still didn’t dare kiss her lips—he still felt those rules forming a structure around them that shouldn’t be breached—but that didn’t rule out tugging down the front of her dress a few inches to expose the line of her collarbone. It was a risk, but one he could hardly bear not to take. Still—he could not risk getting hurt. He couldn’t risk looking weak in front of the country, for one thing, and on a deeper level, he couldn’t risk his heart. Not again.
He released her dress, pressing it up into place even while she stood there, trembling, her eyelids fluttering. They were in the playroom, which was not exactly a private space. Modesty was going to be important to maintain.
“Rafael.” Felicity said his name, and there they went—all the rules. Or at least most of them. “Please.”
They were done for.
“What are you asking me?” He had to force out the words, because he wanted her so badly that it was all he could do to make himself speak. “Tell me what you’re asking for, Felicity.”
“Kiss me.” She tilted her face toward his, and that was all the invitation he needed to take her face in his hands and kiss those pouty lips.
Felicity was unleashed.
She tightened her grip around his neck, adding another arm, and when he coaxed her mouth open with his tongue she made a little noise in the back of her throat.
He tugged her over to a sofa, right there next to the table where she’d just hosted the tea party. Rafael felt blinded by how much he wanted her, wanted this. His ideas about the rules, about propriety, clamored in the back of his mind but couldn’t break through that haze. He didn’t want to break through the haze. She tasted so good.
Felicity raised her legs and wrapped them around his waist, and the sensation was so intimate that he forgot to breathe.
Clothes. There was the matter of clothes. Hers had to come off first, and then—
Felicity rolled over to give him access to the back of her dress and something on the carpet admitted a horrible noise.
That brought him back to reality. “What was that?” He searched around with one hand and came up with a small squeaking toy in the shape of a tiger. “What’s this?”
Felicity laughed, pushing herself upright and smoothing down her hair. The mood had been broken wide open, and with more than a little frustration, Rafael tossed the toy back to the carpet. He was not enjoying the sensation of being brought to his senses, but there they were, taking a risk like this on the floor of the playroom. If anyone had walked in…
He stood up, brushing himself off, and offered her a hand. They were in silent agreement as they walked toward the door, Felicity adjusting her clothes. Before they crossed the threshold, they both stopped, looking out into the empty hallway. Down the hall, someone spoke to another person, voices low, but close enough that a tiny part of Rafael was glad that they’d stopped.
“That was close,” Felicity said quietly, and when he looked at her it was obvious that she felt just as hot and bothered as he did, maybe more.
“Very close.” He wanted to say that it couldn’t continue, but she smiled at him and went out.
It would have been a lie, anyway.
7
He’d been going about it all wrong, Rafael saw once his head had a chance to clear and truly process what he’d seen at the tea party. All the velvet ropes and public appearances with heightened expectations had put Felicity out of her element, and that was a miscalculation for everybody. Felicity was in her element when she was with Hope and Joy—actually with them, not separated by official duties and conflicting sets of instructions.
Which was why he’d agreed when Felicity suggested this outing.
The official motorcade pulled up in front of the grocery store, a family-owned business that had been in the same location in the center of the capital for a century. Hope clapped her hands as Felicity climbed out and came around to the door to get her out, flashing Rafael a nervous smile.
“Are you sure you want to be seen grocery shopping with me? Isn’t it a little…” She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t you have people to do this?”
He did, in fact, have people to do the grocery shopping. “Of course I do. But you’ve been doing your shopping all your life. It’ll be good for people to see it.”
The press was waiting on the sidewalk behind a velvet rope. “Felicity!” called one man. “Was the food at the palace not adequate?”
Felicity laughed, a b
ig smile lighting up her face. “I want my daughter to have a good relationship with food and people,” she said smoothly. “That means we can grocery shop for ourselves every now and again.” She gave them a wave and continued into the store, where she put Hope into the seat of the cart. Rafael followed, practically bursting with pride. The sessions with Lydia had been working, and coming up with a makeshift database had helped, too. It let Felicity relax enough to give simple, direct answers that the reporters loved.
The press wouldn’t follow them into the store—Stolvenian reporters recognized some boundaries, and shopkeepers weren’t afraid to ask them to stand outside—but they would take photos through the window. Felicity frowned. “We need to head for fruits and veggies, first thing. Hope has been turning them down at every opportunity.” She leaned down and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “It would be good if we could experiment a bit without calling down to the kitchen every other minute.”
They headed to the fruit section, where Hope became entranced with a pyramid of oranges. “Orange,” she said wonderingly as Felicity considered the apples nearby.
“Would you like one?” Rafael asked her.
“Yeah!” Her little voice was like a cheerful bell, and her hand darted out almost before he could stop her. She grabbed the nearest orange, almost upsetting the pyramid. Rafael leapt into action, catching the orange rolling from the top and handing it to Hope. She squeezed it as he steadied the pyramid. It was true—life with a toddler was an adventure.
Between the oranges and the strawberries, Hope spied a sample tray of cheese. “What that?” she asked, blue eyes huge with curiosity.
“It’s cheese,” Felicity answered.
“Cheese! I wanna try,” Hope said.
Felicity was still looking for the strawberries. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she told Hope, who immediately looked to Rafael.
He had to admit that it felt good, the way she turned to him. They hadn’t known each other very long and Hope already knew she had him wrapped around her finger.
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