I sat on one side of Damon while Sutcliffe sat on the other. The royal study was on the first floor, not far from the library.

Sutcliffe was listing proclamations and precedent that had been set hundreds of years ago.

Damon’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t ask you to tell me what I can’t do, Sutcliffe. I asked you to figure out how we’re going to do it. Because Molly is sleeping under this roof tonight.” He pressed his finger into the table.

Sutcliffe exhaled. “Sir, I realize what the assignment is.” His mustache twitched. “However, co-habiting is strictly forbidden.”

“Forbidden by whom? The king?” Damon dared him to answer with something as illogical.

I didn’t know how I could help. I didn’t know the Galonian traditions. I was a newbie at the royal history.

“There are hundreds of rooms in the palace.” I broke the deafening silence. “How do the citizens know I’m not staying in one of those?”

Sutcliffe pinched his thin lips together. “It isn’t that simple. You two are under the same roof.”

“But the roof is a mile long,” I argued.

“That is not a defense I can present to the moral citizens of this country.” He glared at me.

“Maybe you should try the immoral ones,” I snapped.

Damon shook his head. “Enough. We need a solution. Molly’s safety is what matters. I’m not going to subject her to the paparazzi. And I want her here.” He looked at me warmly for a brief second.

“What does Isabel do?” I asked. “Has she never had a boyfriend stay over?”

“Princess Isabel isn’t a part of the problem,” Sutcliffe explained. “She wouldn’t think of anything like this.”

“And the princes?” I continued my line of questioning.

“Where are you going with this?” Sutcliffe had lost all patience with me. I realized that had happened the first day we met. An American wandering around the palace looking for the king was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

“The public can’t possibly believe single adults would live lives as nuns and monks. That’s beyond common sense. Hasn’t at least one of them had a girlfriend that was serious?”

I didn’t know if I was prying too much. Poking around where I wasn’t welcome, but this scenario was ridiculous.

Damon scowled. “Dominic.”

“Ok. At least someone has had a relationship. What happened?”

“It is not appropriate to discuss the personal lives of the royal family,” Sutcliffe admonished me. “They should remain private.”

Damon shook him off. “She may ask anything she chooses. That’s why we’re here. Nothing we do remains private. Our personal lives are front page news.” He turned to me. “It didn’t work out with the girlfriend.”

I tilted my head. I wanted more information than that.

Damon sighed. “She left. She couldn’t handle the spotlight. The press hounded her non-stop. It reached the point that they camped out in front of her parents’ house. She couldn’t go to work. She couldn’t go to the market. There was an assault.” His voice was hushed.

“Assault?”

“One of the camera crews pushed a camera in her face when she was visiting her parents. She shoved him out of the way to get in the front door. He filed a law suit, claiming she assaulted him. That was the last straw.”

“Oh my God.”

“It was eventually dropped,” he explained. “But the damage was done.”

“And Dominic? There wasn’t anything he could do?”

He shook his head. “No. He even offered to step away from the crown. But he let things get too far before he even considered that. It was too late. She left the country. She said it was the only way to have a normal life.”

I felt a small hold around my neck as if something had clamped against my throat. The fishbowl the royal family lived in had already destroyed one relationship. Were we next? We were still new. Budding. Growing. Exploring. To even say we were a we, seemed too new. How would we ever survive anything like that?

“I see.”

Sutcliffe rapped his hand on the table. “What happened to Prince Dominic isn’t our concern.”

“Like hell it’s not,” Damon snapped. “He’s trapped. We’re all trapped. That’s what the crown does. It destroyed him. Look at him now. He drinks the demons away. I don’t even recognize my own brother. It is every bit my concern.”

Sutcliffe lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. Of course. He’s your brother. His health is the concern on the country.”

“Why is that?” I questioned. It sounded like he had been put through enough being a member of the royal family. It had cost him his girlfriend and his freedom.

“He’s next in line for the throne,” Sutcliffe answered.

Oh shit. That was a problem. I’d only heard bits and pieces. But Dominic’s story was starting to come together. I didn’t need his entire history to understand how the pressure could lead to his impulse to drink.

There was only way Dominic would become king. My stomach rolled with nausea at the thought. Damon would have to be dead for that to happen.

“Molly can have her own set of apartments,” Damon started. “She’s right. No one will know what part of the roof she’s under.”

“Sir, she doesn’t have a title. You can’t give her apartments.”

He growled. “Fine. I’ll give her a title.”

My heart pulsed an extra beat.

“That requires a ceremony. She must be presented to the court as well as your cabinet.” Sutcliffe started to perspire on his forehead. He reached for a silk handkerchief. “I believe I can put the events together in six months. That is if I work day and night.”

Damon laughed. “Six months? I said tonight.”

“Impossible.”

I held my breath. I knew Damon well enough he didn’t like to be told no, especially when he had an agenda. Right now, that agenda was me.

“I’ve been committed to modernizing the monarchy. This is my opportunity to do it publicly. We’ll have the ceremony in private and Molly will be presented this evening in the blue ballroom. Invite the court and the cabinet. Make sure my brothers and sister are there.”

“You want to mix the court and the government?”

“It’s necessary. Now I have to think of a title.” He winked at me.

God, I hope he didn’t try to decree me as the royal concubine.

“Ahh, I have one.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Royal Consort.” He grinned.

Shit. In some cultures, a consort was the royal concubine, and in others the consort was a spouse. Could he have come up with something more obtuse?

“Your majesty, that title hasn’t been used in Galona in two hundred years.”

He grinned. “Good. I’ll appease the traditionalists with the title and prove to the modern citizens things are changing.”

I didn’t like that they argued because of me. I was already at the center of the palace’s biggest distraction with the olive grove photo. I didn’t want to cause division. I wanted to help Damon secure the irrigation funding, instead we were in secret meetings so I could move in.

Part of me wanted to walk away. Climb in a car and crawl into my bed back at the apartment where I could hear Brooklyn sing in the shower. Where I could get lost in my notecards. The place where I could come and go whenever I wanted.

Had I lost all of that? Had I already given it up to be with Damon?

Sutcliffe and Damon continued to discuss why there had to be a ball tonight and why it was an unrealistic request.

They argued and I grew quiet, retreating to the place where I couldn’t escape the doubt. What was I giving up for a man I met through an auction? A man who was used to being in control constantly? A man A man who had never had a serious relationship?

Did Dominic’s girlfriend give up too much for too long? Was she as wrecked as the prince? I didn’t know if she was as haunted by the breakup as he was. Would that be me? Was I going to end up a shell of myself with nothing left? No privacy. No freedom. And no love.