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 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…I’ve been feeling out of place here.”

“How so?” Alec says, taking my hand in his and clasping it tightly.

“I 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. Don’t worry about that.”

“But I never see you, and what I’m doing doesn’t make my heart sing.”

“I 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 sigh. “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 coiffed 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 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 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. “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.