Alex pressed his teeth together. He tried his best to be a good son, but often it took every ounce of will to remain silent in the face of his mother and father’s judgment.

“The crown will be yours sooner than you seem to believe,” his father said.

“Why do you say that?” Alex cleared his throat. He stood with his parents in a corner of the party room, several security personnel placed nearby.

Angelo inhaled in that laborious way that said he had tired of the conversation. “We are all getting older. That is all I mean.”

Alex studied his father. “You appear healthy, Father.”

“The country needs someone younger. Progressive. A person who can lead them into a new era while keeping traditions alive.”

“Speaking of traditions,” Alex’s mother said, “you do realize it would have been more fitting to bring a date who has high social standing?”

Alex’s brows knitted. “I am sorry, Mother, but I have no clue what you are talking about.”

It was an impertinent remark, but at the moment Alex did not care.

“Katherine is here,” Camila went on. “Alone.”

“That does not surprise me one bit,” Alex said.

The corners of Camila’s lips twitched in the direction of a frown. “She has expressed extreme interest in you, Alex. Her mother and I have had several lengthy conversations on the matter.”

Alex inhaled deeply and looked down. He needed a moment to collect himself and decide how best to proceed.

Katherine had been after him for years. She made no secret of her pursuit. Yet Alex had never been interested in her, and he never would be. Everything about Katherine was superficial, from her nose to her smiles. Alex wanted a girl who lived with integrity, and, lucky him, he already had one.

“I am not interested in Katherine,” Alex said, looking up. “And while we are on the matter, let me say that Paisley and I are rather serious.”

“Oh, Alex,” Camila said. “You really must stop playing games.”

Cutting words built up on Alex’s tongue, but he swallowed them down. He knew how to think before he spoke. If nothing else, being raised a royal had taught him that valuable skill.

“She is the first woman I have been serious about,” he said, “And to be frank, Mother and Father, I am disappointed in your treatment of her.”

They both made noises of surprise, and Camila clutched the base of her throat.

“She wants the crown,” Camila said.

“Ridiculous,” Alex answered. “And if you bothered to get to know Paisley, you would understand that is not the case.”

Angelo was looking at the wall and blinking slowly, his eyes unfocused. “You must understand, Alex, this is about more than what we wish for you.”

Alex swallowed. He knew. Belmonte came first. That idea had been beat into him since the day he was born. He loved his country. How could he not? He just so happened to believe both he and Belmonte would be better off without him leading it. The trouble was, the crown went to the first-born male. It had been that way for over a thousand years.

“I understand,” Alex said. They could have this conversation a million times, and nothing would change. The traditions and laws were the same. Belmonte expected him to be king.

He felt his parents watching him and looked from one to the other. “Paisley and I have never spoken about this.”

“About your inheriting the crown?” his father asked.

Alex nodded once. “Yes.”

“She must know.”

He didn’t answer. Yes, she must know. And what did she think of that? She had been so hesitant to date a famous man. Even being in the company of one made her squeamish. It was hard to imagine her accepting to become a queen. She would absolutely hate all the pomp and attention that came with it.

That left Alex to wonder: what were her plans when it came to their relationship? She had let him know she didn’t care for flings, but that did not mean she would stay by his side once he became king.

“I am glad you came for this event,” Angelo said. “Do remember to say goodnight to your great-aunt Valeria before you leave.”

Alex bowed to the king and queen. The conversation had ended. There was nothing left to say.

A few people attempted to approach him as he made his way among the party, but Alex swiftly looked away and walked fast, pretending he did not see them. There was only one person he wished to talk to, and he had already left her alone for far longer than he should have.

Not finding Paisley anywhere, Alex stood at the edge of the room, feeling lost. Had she gone to the ladies’ room?

As if a magnet were pulling his attention, he turned his head and looked through a window. A female figure sat alone in the garden. Though the figure was dark, he somehow knew it was Paisley.

“There you are,” Alex said, approaching the bench by the fountain.

Paisley jerked a bit. Her face had been down, and she probably had not heard him walk up. “Sorry. Were you looking for me?”

“Not for long.” He sat next to her. He wanted to take her hand, but he hesitated. How much longer would he be able to touch her for?

Pushing the thought away, he lightly clasped her hand between the two of his. Anxiety built. How did he bring up the topic of the crown? And why had he not before?

They both looked at the fountain, its water sparkling in the garden lights.

“It’s nice out here,” Paisley said.

“It is my favorite part so far.”

She half-grinned, and he knew she understood he did not want to be at the party.

“I am sorry.” Alex trailed his fingers across the top of her hand.

“For what?”

“Not everyone here is welcoming.”

There was a pause. “Bianca is.”

“She is special,” he croaked. “But my parents—”

“You don’t have to apologize for them. I’m different. I’m an outsider.” Paisley faced the fountain, her eyes in shadow.

“That is one of the things I like about you. You were not raised in this world. You see things differently. You say what is on your mind. You are not caught up in rules and traditions and the appearance of things.” Alex’s voice had risen as he spoke, and he realized he would soon lose control of his emotional state as well.

Breathing slowly, he turned his gaze to the fountain. He could feel Paisley watching him.

What do you think of me one day becoming king?

Such a simple question. He should ask it.

Yet his jaw and tongue were locked up. He would sooner go running with the bulls or jump from a plane than ask Paisley if she would be by his side once he became king.

Alex already knew the answer. Why plague himself with having to hear her say it?

He looked at her, noting even in the poor lighting the sadness in her eyes.

“Paisley.” He cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes and leaned her face into his palm. “Is everything all right?”

Her eyes opened with a long fluttering of lashes. “Yeah. I’m good. What about you?”

Alex felt as if he were being torn apart. “Me too.”