Understanding dawned in Remy's eyes, followed by alarm. “You want to come out? Now? The timing couldn't be worse. With everything happening—”
“The timing will never be right,” I cut him off. “There will always be crises, scandals, reasons not to live honestly. What I won't accept is being told that my nature is more shameful than your repeated infidelities.”
Remy flinched as if I'd struck him, his face paling. “I've never said that. I've never thought that.”
“Haven't you?” I challenged, the words bitter on my tongue. “You've never once stood up for me when Father made his disapproval clear. Never questioned why my private life is considered a potential embarrassment to the monarchy while your public indiscretions are treated as mere inconveniences. You've never asked why I should hide who I am when you've never had to hide who you are.”
Remy's expression crumpled, guilt washing over him. “You're right. I've been selfish. I've taken your support for granted.” He reached across the table, covering my hand. “I'm sorry, Ricard. Truly sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. In all our years together, through all the crises and conflicts, I had never heard Remy apologize with such genuine remorse. It was enough to soften the hard knot of resentment in my chest, if only slightly. “I don't want your apology, Remy. I want your support. Real support, not just private acceptance. I want you to stand beside me when I tell our parents that I won't hide anymore. I want you to defend my right to live openly, just as I've defended yours all these years.”
Remy withdrew his hand, running it through his hair in a gesture of agitation. “Father will be furious. You know how traditional he is. And with the anniversary celebration coming up—”
“I don't care,” I interrupted, surprising myself with the vehemence in my voice. “I couldn't care less what the country thinks, but I want, no, Ineed, the support of my family. If my living openly is more disgraceful to the monarchy than your affairs, then… perhaps the monarchy should end. I'm fine with that.”
Remy stared at me, his expression a mixture of shock and something that might have been respect. “You really mean that, don't you? You'd let it all go. The title, the privileges, everything—just to live as yourself?”
“Yes.” The answer came without hesitation, surprising me with its certainty. “I would.”
Silence stretched between us, broken only by distant sounds from the city below. Remy studied me, brow furrowed in concentration. “What's happened to you, Ricard? You've changed.”
The question caught me off guard, not because it was unexpected, but because the answer was so clear in my mind. “I've met someone. Someone extraordinary.”
Remy's eyebrows shot up, surprise giving way to curiosity. “Here? In America? Who is he?”
I hesitated, a surge of warmth spreading through my chest at the thought of him. “That's not important,” I replied, maintaining his privacy. “What matters is how he makes me feel.”
Remy whistled low, leaning back in his chair. “Well, that explains the sudden change of heart. Must be quite the individual to have you ready to upend the monarchy for them.”
“It's not like that,” I protested, though part of me wondered if it wasn't exactly like that. “He showed me what it's like to be free, Remy. To be unguarded. To be... loved.” The word slipped out before I could stop it, hanging in the air between us like a confession.
“Loved?” Remy's voice was gentle, without a trace of mockery. “Are you in love, Ricard?”
I stared into my coffee cup, watching the dark liquid ripple with my slight movements. “I don't know,” I admitted, the words barely audible. “I've never been in love before. How would I know what it feels like?”
“Trust me, little brother, when you're in love, you know.” Remy's smile was soft, almost wistful. “It's like nothing else in the world. It makes you brave. It makes you foolish. It makes you willing to risk everything for just one more moment with them.”
I looked up, meeting his gaze. “I think I might be in love with him. Or at least, I want the chance to find out.”
The admission hung in the air, transforming from tentative speculation to certainty as I heard the words in my voice. Yes, I loved him, loved his honesty, his courage, his ability to see through the carefully constructed facade I had maintained my entire life.
The realization crashed over me in waves of increasing certainty, each one more powerful than the last. I loved Theo Bennett. Not as a diversion or an exotic experience, but as a fundamental connectionto something authentic I had never experienced before. The truth of it resonated through me, as undeniable as my heartbeat.
If I haven't ruined my chance.
Sébastien was waiting in the corridor, his posture straightening as I emerged from Remy's suite. One look at my face and his expression shifted from professional detachment to alert concern. “Your Grace? Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine, Sébastien,” I assured him, unable to keep the excitement from my voice. “Better than fine, in fact. I need to borrow a car. I have somewhere I need to be.”
The energy radiating from me must have been palpable, the barely contained urgency of a man who had recognized what mattered most and couldn't bear to waste another moment in pursuit of it.
Sébastien's eyebrows rose fractionally, the only indication of his surprise. “Of course, Your Grace. We have several rentals available for our delegation. I shall drive you wherever you—”
I shook my head, already moving toward the elevator. “No, thank you. This is something I need to do alone.”
Sébastien fell into step beside me, his stride matching mine with the practiced precision of someone who had walked alongside me for years. “May I ask where you're going, Your Grace? In case His Highness inquires?”
I hesitated. Sébastien had been my shadow, privy to my deepest secrets. He had witnessed my carefully controlled interactions with approved companions, had coordinated countless discreet arrangements, had maintained the protective barrier between my private desires and public persona.
