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But she hasn’t said she loves me.
I think she loves my ideas. I think she loves that I want to do good things. I think she loves the idea of me as King of Cara.
But I don’t know if she loves me. The man. The regular guy behind closed doors, who gets tired and frustrated and who often wants to hide from the responsibilities and pressure.
My reluctance bothers her. I do know that.
She’s here to help me get the farming programs going so I have something concrete to focus on, to point to as a plan.
But she didn’t promise to be there for me beyond that. She didn’t vow to stand with me as king. She only agreed to help me get there.
“Just tell them that they met at the wedding in Autre. Just repeat the story,” Linnea says to Cian. “And then tell them that you like her. That she’s fitting in perfectly. That she’s got amazing ideas for Cara and she’s sweet and intelligent and we’re lucky to have her.”
“Tell them they’re Torin’s ideas. And you can mention the market as an example,” Abigail interjects.
My frustration is building. Can’t she let the farms and this market go? Just for tonight? The plan to have Cian and Astrid be our ambassadors in the village is inspired. Everyone loves them. They’re also personable and fun. And they are definitely royal insiders. People will believe whatever they say.
But Cian is right. The people want to know about Abigail. And me. Us. Our relationship. Our courtship. The whirlwind romance that was so big, we couldn’t even wait until we returned to Cara to get married.
“You have to sell our love story,” I say. “We need to be sure everyone is so enamored with us and our relationship that they forget to be mad that there was no wedding.”
Astrid nods. “Lindsey and Jen are still talking about that. You should just have a wedding here. Even though you’ve already officially done it, it wouldn’t hurt to have a ceremony here.”
Abigail shakes her head. “Oh, no. That’s not necessary.”
Right. Because she doesn’t want to stand up and lie to anyone about us being in love and wanting to be together for more than a year.
“It’s not necessary,” Astrid agrees with a smile. “But it would be fun. And the people would love it. There hasn’t been a royal wedding here in my lifetime, of course. That would be amazing!”
But Abigail is still shaking her head. Of course. “I’m not really a big wedding kind of girl.”
She’s not a big display of emotion girl at all.
I feel my frustration building.
Unless, of course, she’s on a video call with kids talking about fucking plants.
Then she lights up and practically glows with happiness.
“We could make it small-ish and simple,” Astrid says. She looks at Linnea. “It’s a good idea. You’ve seen how everyone is whining online about not really knowing Abi.”
“Well, yes, but?—”
“They don’t need to know me,” Abigail protests. “I’m just?—”
My patience snaps. “Okay, so everyone is heading out then.” I shove my chair back and stand. I gently squeeze the back of Abigail’s neck with one hand and hold the other out to her. “We have some things to take care of tonight.”
I will not sit here and listen to her talk about how she doesn’t want to lie to people about how she feels about me, how she won’t even pretend in public to have feelings for me, how she won’t even consider that things between us could be good for more than twelve months.
And I swear if I hear the word market again tonight, I’m going to…
“Yes, we have a lot to talk about before the market tomorrow,” Abigail says, taking my hand.
I pull her out of her chair with a growl.
Chapter 39
Torin
