Resilient Reign Page 6

  “You announced that you’d return.” I sighed. “Your speech from earlier today is already making the social media circuits. You gave the time and date of your return. You provided an invitation to those who wish us harm.”

  The princess shook her head. “I didn’t mean…” She sighed. “Roman, I must keep my word. If I don’t…if the people lose faith in me…”

  “I shouldn’t say but I was privy to the king’s discussion with Lord Rowlings. The stores will receive stock overnight and open for a few hours each day until more supplies can be secured.”

  “That’s good.”

  I ran my thumb over her cheek. “It’s because of you, Princess. Your bravery at confronting the king is truly inspiring.”

  “Roman, I can’t stay in Molave Palace and ignore the king’s and the physician’s orders.”

  “Let me speak to Mr. Davies.”

  “And then what?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’m winging this from minute to minute. I do know that as Roman Godfrey, I have power. I’ve spent the last six weeks using that power as I’m told. I don’t think it’s too much for me to use that power to protect you.”

  “From what? Pregnancy? It’s what all Molave wants.”

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  Lucille took a step back. “Roman, please don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t pretend or mislead yourself into believing my feelings matter. They don’t. When I see Rothy and Alice, I admit to wanting children. When I see the people, such as those in Brynad, I want to help them. If the procedure fails, I’ve failed, and I won’t be able to help the citizens of Molave.”

  “I will ask the king for a month. He has said I should work to repair our relationship. I’ll ask for one month.”

  Lucille nodded.

  The vibration of my phone in my suitcoat pocket alerted me to the fact our time together was running out. I took Lucille’s hand and lifted her knuckles to my lips. “You were strong and fierce today. You were also reckless and put yourself in danger.” I looked down at her sparkling wedding rings and back up to her. “As your husband, I’m responsible for advising you. My advice is to continue being strong and fierce, and to never again put yourself in danger. If the king permits your return to Brynad tomorrow, I will accompany you as will a convoy of guards.” One more kiss to her knuckles. “I don’t want to leave you, but as my phone keeps vibrating, I’m reminded that I’m late for a horrible afternoon filled with meetings.”

  “Tonight, if you call for me, I’ll do my best to prepare you for the state banquet.”

  I nodded. “The only way this will work is if we are one another’s top advisor.”

  “No more talk of divorce,” she said.

  “As long as you heed my advice.”

  “Is that a threat, my prince?”

  Stepping closer, I whispered in her ear, purposely warming her sensitive skin. “I love you, Lucille. I wish to God I didn’t, but I do. Don’t be reckless with what I love.”

  When our gazes met, a single tear slid down her cheek.

  “Princess?”

  “I’m afraid to hope that we will succeed.”

  “Hope is all we have.”

  Brushing her lips with mine, I turned and made my way out of Lucille’s suite. To my relief, the connecting parlor was empty. It wasn’t until I neared the back stairs that would lead closer to my offices that I saw Lady Buckingham.

  “Your Highness,” she said with a curtsy.

  “The princess is waiting for you.”

  “The physician’s office called.”

  “Not today. She isn’t up for it.”

  Lady Buckingham’s expression soured as she nodded. It would be up to Lucille to do her part in convincing her mistress of her distress. I couldn’t accept that Lady Buckingham turned the other cheek to Roman’s abusive behavior, but I could appreciate that she was Lucille’s guard, her protection. With Lady Buckingham at her side, within the walls of the castle or palace, the princess was well cared for.

  “Your Highness,” the secretaries addressed as I entered the front office.

  Lord Martin appeared from one of the conference rooms. “Your Highness, Mr. Davies is here to see you.”

  “Good.”

  “The king has been told you stopped the princess from seeing the physician.”

  “I’ll speak with the physician now and undoubtedly, the king later.”

  Despite the concern in Lord Martin’s expression, he nodded a bow before opening the door to my inner office.

  Lucille

  Moonlight flowed through the windows like glowing blue ink, lightening my bedchamber. Although the hour was late, I wasn’t tired. Since Roman’s rebuke—the thought of which left my lips tingling—we’d not had a moment alone. His dreadful afternoon of meetings lasted later than usual. By the time I was ready for dinner with the king and queen, Roman had just enough time to change into a new suit and escort me to the dining room.

  There were too many people about for us to speak, and it was clear that we were going for the impression that the prince was still upset about my behavior. It was a fine line to walk since around Queen Anne we also weren’t to mention anything about my findings or speech in Brynad.

  While King Theo, Roman, and I sat mulling over what had transpired, Queen Anne talked throughout most of the meal, excited about Friday night’s royal banquet. It had been since last spring that Molave Palace had such an event. I knew from experience that the preparation literally took months. When King Theo said the queen was content in her duties, one of them was preparing for pomp and circumstance—a responsibility she didn’t take lightly. No doubt the grand hall was already set with tables and chairs, and the next few days would be spent making sure each goblet was set precisely in place as well as every piece of silverware. And then there were the flowers and napkins. The to-do list was exhausting, and Queen Anne oversaw every aspect.

  I longed to speak to Roman about the upcoming festivities. He’d asked for my help. That said, I was certain Lord Martin and Lady Caroline had done their part to prepare him for such occasions.

  As I paced about my bedchamber in my dressing gown, I waited for a sign from Roman. I’d asked him to call for me, but he hadn’t. Now with the clock nearing eleven, I was beginning to wonder if he would come to me, if he were truly upset with me—as he appeared at dinner—or if simply, his busy afternoon had worn him out.

  My lips curled upward at the sound of doors opening and gently closing in my outer parlor. Anticipation built within me, much like the sensation of waiting for the curtain to rise on a Broadway show. The knob on my door turned moments before the door pushed inward.

  “Princess,” Lady Buckingham said. “You should be asleep.”

  The crushing disappointment at seeing my mistress was almost more than my roller coaster of an emotional day could handle. Blinking away the moisture in my eyes, I nodded. “I am about to be.”

  She went to the bed and pulled back the covers. “Let me help you.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “After this afternoon…I was concerned. The prince’s reaction wasn’t unexpected…” She took a deep breath. “I was hoping to find you sleeping soundly.”

  When Lady Buckingham had come to me after Roman left, I pretended to be upset at his rebuke while at the same time, trying to stay strong. It was what I would have done before. And before, I would have settled into my bed and perhaps read, hoping to not receive a summons.

  Now, I wanted the summons, and it hadn’t come.

  Taking off the robe, I slid under the covers in my long pale-pink nightgown. Instead of being a thirty-three-year-old woman, I was a child being tucked into bed.

  “Goodnight, Mary,” I said.

  “Goodnight, Princess.”

  My thoughts filled with Queen Anne’s musings about the upcoming banquet. I was almost asleep when the clicks of doors opening and closing pulled me from the grip of slumber. Sitting up against the headboard, I pulled the blankets over my body and watched the door to my bedchamber open.

  In the darkness, I only saw Roman’s silhouette, framed by the light from the fireplace beyond.

  My breathing evened as I took him in—his broad shoulders and trim torso told me that the padded shirt was gone. If I were to guess, I’d say he wasn’t wearing a shirt at all. The door closed behind him, and his silhouette faded into the darkened corners of the room.

  The anticipation from earlier returned as the prince came silently toward me, walking through streams of blue hue.

  By the time he was at my side, I inhaled the scent of his bodywash. Warmth radiated from him to me as he sat at my side, causing the mattress to dip. In silence broken only by the sound of our breathing, Roman lifted his palm to my cheek.

  “You’re awake.”

  It wasn’t a question. The answer was obvious.

  “You didn’t call for me,” I said, inclining my face to his touch.

  “That’s because I’m still upset with you.”

  “Are you?”

  “No.”

  My smile grew as my eyesight adjusted, and I took in his bare wide shoulders and toned chest. “I love you, too.”

  Roman’s touch disappeared.

  I reached for his hands and held them between mine. “You have no commitment to me. I know that, and yet being with you feels as it should when I’m with my husband.”

  “I met with Mr. Davies.”

  “And?”

  “You will see him, but the procedure will wait another month. For now, he only wants to confirm your temperature and ovulation charts.” Roman shook his head. “I still think this is wrong.”

  Warmth filled my cheeks. “It’s an odd conversat
ion considering our short history. The real Roman…the one before you…he would never have discussed this with me.” I smiled. “I think it’s better to hear it from you than Mr. Davies…or King Theo.”

  Roman chuckled. “The king offered to have our marriage blessed by the Church of Molave.”

  “He what?”

  “Yes, he said it was a usual practice after times of difficulty in a marriage.”

  “Difficulty, such as replacing my husband with another man.”

  “I think that would qualify.”

  Roman lowered his forehead to mine. The fresh scent of toothpaste infiltrated my senses as I pondered the king’s offer.

  “Would that make our marriage so?” I shook my head. “You didn’t agree to this job to end up with a wife.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Roman.”

  “He’s still the greatest unknown. Where is the real prince?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied, knowing that no matter how unfair it was to the real Roman, the Roman I wanted was holding my hand, breathing the same air, and making me desire only him. It wasn’t only this Roman’s beauty, his now-verified Hollywood appearance and defined muscles. My desire stemmed from what we were doing now—talking.

  I remembered something from earlier. “I researched you.”

  “You did what?”

  “You told me your last name. I searched for you.”

  “Lucille, the Firm will see that and know you know.”

  Shit.

  My pulse increased and my skin grew clammy. “I-I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Obviously,” he said, dropping my hand and standing. “We need to come up with a story.”

  Quickly, I scooted out of the bed, meeting Roman where he stood. “I’m sorry I acted impulsively. I wanted to know more about you. You’ve spent the last two months learning about me and Molave.” I lowered my chin. “I am sorry.”

  Roman reached for my shoulders. “No apologies, Princess. Hopefully, I’m paranoid. Maybe they aren’t monitoring your searches.”

  When he released me, I walked one way and then the other as I tried to come up with a way to pacify the Firm. My eyes opened wide. “I saw an advertisement for the next movie in that comic series, the one where you’re a warlord. I noticed the resemblance to my husband, and that’s why I searched the actor’s name.”

  “That could work. Although, I’d never noticed the similarity before I was approached.”

  Looking up, I studied his handsome face. The man within my reach wasn’t a prince but a fictional warlord. “You’ll need to return. You have a career.”

  Inhaling, he ran his hand over his hair and exhaled. “I’ve been killed.”

  My head tilted.

  “The Firm approached Andrew after I’d shot my last scene in the franchise.”

  “The ad I saw on the internet had you listed as having a major role.”

  He shrugged. “My demise was a recent change and as far as I know, a secret.”

  “You don’t think the Firm was involved in the script change, to make you available?” Now I was sounding as paranoid as Roman.

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” He walked to the window and back. “I don’t know how far-reaching their power goes. At the time, I had another explanation for the studio’s decision.”

  “What was it?”

  Roman turned to me with a sad smile. “Irrelevant. No longer important.” He hooked my finger with his. “Just like you, Princess, I made a vow. The past is the past. I’d like to say that my survival is no longer at the discretion of a director or producer, but I think we both know that wouldn’t be a true statement.” Dropping my finger, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. “Our future is in the hands of King Theo. Survival is a day at a time. Will you help me prepare for the state banquet?”

  “Yes,” I answered, looking up into his dark stare. “I’ll help however I can.”

  Suddenly, Roman moved, reaching for one of my hands while keeping his other arm around me. In seconds, we were dancing, waltzing around the room to music that only Roman could hear. I was too taken with his actions to even think of telling him there wouldn’t be dancing at the banquet.

  His direction was impeccable and his touch sensual. Our bodies moved in sync, as he guided us in and out of moonbeams.

  Roman’s tenor lowered as the bedchamber filled with his baritone hum.

  In his arms, dancing to the tune of his melody, the world around us slipped away.

  Never had I had a dancing partner as talented or as confident. I was enthralled as the walls of my bedchamber disappeared and Roman’s dark gaze drank me in.

  It didn’t register that dancing and singing were most likely talents that he’d honed through his profession. I was too entranced. The man commanding my attention had my body attuned with his in a way I had never dreamed possible, as well as my heart in his hands.

  If only the world could witness the new romance between a married couple who had drifted apart. It would be a second-chance sensation or maybe only a replication.

  A reflection was only as strong as the looking glass.

  As we continued to waltz, I refused to believe the mirror could break.

  Little did I realize how soon our reflection would be threatened.

  Lucille

  Cool autumn air swirled, tingling my cheeks, as Lady Buckingham and I made our way outside Molave Palace to the waiting cars. Much to my surprise, I’d received the king’s approval to make a return trip to Brynad. The news came earlier this morning, giving my mistress and I a short time to ready for travel. The small town was less than a half an hour from Molave City’s limits. I was approved to arrive before noon, the time the market was scheduled to open.

  With the colder temperatures, my attire was less important than the impact of my presence. This was the first time in all my years as princess that I’d been given such a responsibility. I knew in the grand scheme of the Molavian people, one small speech was insignificant.

  To me, it was monumental.

  My presence was requested by the minister of the interior and chief minister soon after word arrived of my granted request. Lord Rowlings and Mrs. Drake met with me for a short time, going over what I was to say. I respectfully listened to their advice before asking, “What does the crown not want me to say?”

  The two ministers looked at one another and back to me.

  “I’ll gladly relay the speech you provided,” I replied. “However, if I’m asked questions, I want to be able to answer.”

  It took a little prodding, but the perimeters were set. In a nutshell, I would deliver a speech thanking the citizens for their patience and explain that the unusually early onset of cold temperatures had resulted in ice in the channels, causing shipping delays. In the few hours I had to prepare, I’d gone over and over the outline. As we approached the cars, a mixture of emotions bubbled within me, excitement being the one that undoubtedly was in the greatest supply.

  Breaths appeared as small clouds as the guards opened car doors.

  “Wait.”

  I spun at the sound of the familiar voice. “Roman?”

  “Princess.”

  Remembering protocol, I curtsied. “Your Highness.”

  We hadn’t seen one another since our dance last night in my bedchamber. The memories of our waltz warmed me from the inside. Before I could say another word, my husband reached for my elbow and pulled me away from Lady Buckingham and the guards.

  He spoke low. “I don’t approve of this journey.”

  My elation at having permission to do something for the citizens of Molave evaporated such as the popping of a balloon. Inhaling, I looked up to my husband’s dark stare, wondering for a moment if this was a performance for those around us.

  “The king.” I looked toward the cars. “I’ll have royal guards.”

  As I spoke, I looked up at his handsome face. The rigidness of his chiseled jaw and intensity of his dark stare were real, not an act.

  Roman lowered his voice. “I don’t approve, but I’m not forbidding it.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a sigh, “Your Highness.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Can you? Does King Theo approve? What of your schedule?”

  Roman lifted his chin toward the cars. “We should go.” He spoke louder. “There has been a change in plans. Lady Buckingham, you may stay here. I’ll accompany the princess to Brynad.”