At first, I’m nearly undone by the sweetness of Alec falling deeply asleep, his head on the pillow next to mine, his body relaxed. I consider waking him up, but only for a second. A man like Alec won’t be thrilled about passing out when he meant to take me at least once. He’s been so exhausted lately, and so much has happened, that it seems cruel to shake him out of the dreamland that he’s tumbled into headfirst. For a long time, I lie still, enjoying the sensation of his body against mine, his hard muscles and soft skin against my side.

Because they’ve thought of everything for the queen’s rooms at Sainthall Palace, there’s a switch on the bedside table that controls all the lights. You can turn them off when you’re done reading at night without even getting out of bed. After Alec’s breathing has been steady for about fifteen minutes, I reach over and slide the switches down, plunging the room into darkness.

It’s late enough for me to fall asleep, but even though I close my eyes and run through several meditative deep breaths, my mind is too alert to sleep. My body hums with the closeness of my boyfriend—even thinking the word makes my heart pound—and various thoughts race through my head.

It’s not long before one crosses my mind that makes my stomach twist with anxiety.

Is this what my entire life is going to be like?

Alec is the crown prince now, and although no one has said it in so many words, it does mean that he won’t be able to have much of a private life, not least because he has so much to do. Then one day, he’ll assume the crown.

What’s the scheduling going to be like for that?

Will he always be so exhausted?

We’ve hardly been able to see each other, and it’s killing me. I want to be with him every moment of the day, and my chest aches with longing. Alec has also ignited my sexual libido to unquenchable levels, , and being in Sainthall Palace is a far cry from the marathon lovemaking sessions we used to have in New York.

Not that I expected that to last forever, but things have tapered off dramatically.

And I understand why. Heavy demands are being placed on him. I don’t blame him for being so tired that he falls asleep on my pillow after one hot kiss.

I can’t help but wonder: is this a snapshot of my future life with Alec?

All my life, I’ve been spontaneous. All my life, I’ve given myself permission to change something if it didn’t feel right. It’s that same attitude that drew me to Alec in the first place. It seems so long ago now, finding him that night with the dating app.

Our life together, now that he’s about to be the crown prince, won’t allow for spontaneity. Somehow, I don’t see it getting much easier. This first week was bound to be difficult, bound to be busy as he gets caught up to speed, but it’s not as if his new responsibilities are going to decrease after this week. In fact, they’re probably going to increase.

It hasn’t exactly been an easy adjustment for me, either. It’s still a thrill to be pampered, catered to, and assisted in every way, but with each day that passes, more rules come into play, more boundaries are set for what I can wear and how I need to act and with whom I can spend my time and what I can do.

The dread in my stomach blooms and grows. What if I made a mistake by giving up my freedom to be with Alec? What if I was basing my decision on faulty information? What if it’s not going to work out now that he’s the crown prince?

What if this isn’t the life I want?

* * *

The next morning when I wake up, Alec is gone, but Claire is knocking at the door. Today is the day when he’ll officially be named crown prince, and the ceremony is scheduled for 10:00.

“Hey, Claire,” I say, as she breezes into the room. Here in the palace, Claire has a key card allowing her to enter my rooms at any time unless I punch in a code on a panel next to the door to restrict it.

“Jessica,” she says, her face still pale, but at least she’s smiling. “Are you finished with breakfast? The team is waiting outside.”

I smile back at her. “Give me a minute to eat,” I say, sitting down at the tray that was apparently delivered while I still slept. “Is there anything I should know about the schedule this morning? Mostly getting ready for the ceremony, right?”

“Right,” she answers, opening the cover of her tablet. “The ceremony begins at ten, but you’ll need to be seated in the gallery ten minutes before that.”

“What’s the gallery?”

“It’s the upper level of seating in the throne room. You haven’t spent time there, so it would be easy to overlook.”

“Oh,” I say, putting another bite of breakfast in my mouth. “Does everyone sit in the gallery?”

A blush colors Claire’s cheeks. “No. The seating on the main floor is assigned based on strict precedence, with the royal family receiving first priority. It’s…complicated.”

How could they?

My reaction takes me by surprise. Of course, I’m not a member of the royal family. Of course, I’m not a key person in Saintland politics. Of course, I wouldn’t be seated in a place of preference during the ceremony.

I shouldn’t have been expecting it.

“It’s an old tradition,” Claire tries, obviously noticing my discomfort.

I look down at the plate of eggs in front of me and muster the biggest smile I can before I look back up at her. “It’s tradition.”