American Royals
“I love you, too.”
“All right, then. I’ll ask to be reassigned to you.” Connor smiled down at her. “At least this way we’ll have each other.”
Beatrice knew she couldn’t take him up on his offer.
This thing between her and Connor was real. She was his and he was hers—that was simply the truth, perhaps the most powerful truth in this entire court. And something that true was something worth fighting for.
“No.” Beatrice stepped back, shaking her head. “I can’t ask that of you. You deserve so much more than a half life.”
“What are you saying?”
Beatrice slid the diamond engagement ring off her finger, revealing the line of Sharpie inscribed beneath. For the first time in weeks, her smile wasn’t forced.
“It’s still there?” he asked, incredulous.
She hadn’t been able to stand the sight of her finger without it. “I touched it up myself,” she confessed, and took a breath. “Connor, I’m calling off the wedding.”
Seeing Connor again was a sharp reminder of everything that Teddy wasn’t. Beatrice liked Teddy, and understood him, and knew without a doubt that he would have been a great first king consort. If she’d never met Connor, maybe that would have been enough.
Except that she had met Connor. They’d managed to find each other in this messy, confusing, deeply flawed world. And now that she knew what it was like to truly love someone, Beatrice couldn’t accept anything less.
“Really?” The naked hope in Connor’s expression nearly undid her.
“Yes. I’ll talk to my dad tonight, tell him I can’t marry Teddy.” Her stomach knotted in dread at the thought of that conversation.
“What do you think he’ll say?”
Beatrice wished she could tell Connor that it would all be fine. But after everything they’d been through, he deserved the truth from her. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
“He won’t approve of me,” Connor said quietly. “Neither will America. Look how much they freaked out about Jeff and Nina, and he’s not even the heir. They’ll never accept their future queen dating her bodyguard.”
“If they really feel that way, then maybe I don’t want to be their queen.”
Connor gave an exasperated huff. “Don’t be flippant.”
Beatrice stepped forward, folding her body into his. After a moment, Connor let his arms loop over her and pulled her closer. She pressed her face against his chest, inhaling the familiar warm scent of him. The whole world felt suddenly lighter.
“I already lost you once. I can’t bear to lose you again,” she murmured. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, or how people will react, but we’ll figure something out. Whatever it is, we’ll do it together.”
A clock chimed in the hallway. Beatrice wondered, suddenly, how late it was. All those viscounts and barons were probably still lined up to congratulate her for an engagement she had every intention of breaking before the night was over.
“I’m sure they’re looking for you,” Connor said, as if reading her mind. He grinned. “The sooner you go, the sooner you can take that ring off your finger.”
Beatrice took a step toward the door and hesitated, torn. She hated the thought of walking away from Connor so soon, when she’d only just gotten him back. “Would you come with me? You could get in uniform, tell everyone you’re assigned to me again.”
“No offense, but I’m not going anywhere near that party,” Connor said wryly.
“None taken.”
“I’ll be here for you when it’s over,” he assured her. “And, Bee—good luck with your dad.”
“Thank you.” She rose on tiptoe to brush her lips against Connor’s one more time.
As she started back down the hallway, the princess straightened her rumpled dress, tucked back a piece of hair that had come loose from her bun. Her eyes were very bright, her lips a vivid pink. And she was smiling to herself, a secret flickering smile that made her seem to glow from within.
She looked, to everyone who saw her, like a young woman in love.
NINA
Nina was in the first-floor ladies’ room when she heard the group of girls walk in. Their heels clicked in unison over the floor, their voices lilting and conspiratorial.
“Did you see what she’s wearing? She sure upgraded fast, once she got hold of the prince’s money.”
“You really think he bought her that gown?”
“Her mom sure didn’t, on a government salary.”
Nina froze.
“I heard that she’s so desperate for cash, she’s been selling photos of herself to the tabloids.”
A snort of disapproval. “You’d think she would have more style, having grown up around the palace.”
“Come on, Josephine, you know you can’t buy class if you weren’t born with it.” There was a chorus of snide giggles at that.
I dare them to say those things to my face, Nina thought, and swept furiously out of the bathroom stall. Her gown rattled with crystal beads like hail on pavement.
The trio of girls had clustered before the sink, which was made of an enormous slab of backlit pink quartz, its faucets shaped like swans’ necks. Nina washed her hands, coolly ignoring the others. They exchanged a glance among themselves before fleeing the bathroom in a voluminous rustle of skirts.