Page 112 of Throne Off Course

“Problem?” he asked, already carrying her toward the adjoining room.

“You could have warned me,” she muttered, though she couldn’t quite keep the smile from her lips as she looped her arms around his neck.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he countered, his eyes bright with a playfulness she’d glimpsed only in their most private moments.

As he gently set her down on the edge of his bed, Emilia caught his wrist, keeping him close. Alexander leaned in, kissing her again, his weight pressing her back into the mattress, and Emilia surrendered to the sensation of finally, finally having the one thing she’d been afraid to let herself want.

His hand slid beneath the fabric of her open blouse, warm against her skin, and she arched into his touch with a quiet gasp. “Tell me again,” she murmured against his throat.

He didn’t need to ask what she meant. Alexander drew back, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that stole her breath. “I love you,” he said, the words a vow. “And this time, I’m not letting anything stand in our way.”

And as his lips found hers again, as his body settled against hers with the inevitable rightness of coming home, Emilia finally allowed herself to believe it might be true.

Because when it came to Alexander, despite all her defenses, all her caution, she had never really stood a chance. And for once in her life, she was perfectly content to let herself fall.

* * *

Morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting the royal apartment in a soft golden glow. Alexander woke first, consciousness returning slowly, then all at once as he registered the warm weight against his chest.

Emilia.

She was still asleep, her breathing deep and even, chestnut hair spilling across his shoulder and onto the pillow. One of her hands rested on his chest, just above his heart. Their legs were tangled beneath the sheets, her body curved perfectly against his as if they’d been designed to fit together.

For a long moment, Alexander simply watched her, cataloging details he’d never had the luxury to observe before—the tiny freckle near her temple, the slight curve of her lips even in sleep, the way her eyelashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks. The sight of her here, in his bed, still seemed impossibly precious. Fragile, despite everything they’d said, everything they’d done.

He had spent so long wanting this, wanting her, that having her now felt like a dream he might wake from at any moment.

Careful not to disturb her, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers lingering against her skin.

Emilia stirred, her brow furrowing slightly before her eyesfluttered open. For a second, confusion clouded her features—then recognition dawned, and her lips curved into a soft, sleepy smile that made his heart ache.

“Hi,” she murmured, voice husky from sleep.

“Hi,” he replied, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands, his face, his entire being. They’d crossed every line last night, but somehow this felt more intimate—this quiet vulnerability, this unguarded moment before the world intruded.

She seemed to read his uncertainty, because her smile widened as she stretched slightly against him. “You’re thinking too loudly,” she observed, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “Even before coffee. Impressive.”

Alexander couldn’t help but smile back at her. “I didn’t think you were a morning person.”

“I’m not,” she admitted, shifting to rest her chin on her hand, looking up at him. “But I’m making an exception today.”

“For me?” he asked, threading his fingers through her hair, still slightly amazed that he was allowed to do so.

“For the view,” she corrected, with the teasing lilt he’d come to crave. Her eyes, however, remained on his face, studying him with the same intensity he’d felt watching her sleep.

“Ah,” he said, “and here I thought it was my sparkling morning conversation.”

“That too,” she conceded, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Though I should warn you, I reserve judgment until after caffeine.”

He laughed, the sound surprising him with its ease. When was the last time he’d woken up laughing? “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the palace coming to life beyond his doors. Soon, the world would come rushing back in—meetings, obligations, the machinery of monarchy that never stopped turning. But for now, this moment was theirs alone.

Emilia seemed to follow his thoughts, because her expression grew more serious. “What happens now?” she asked quietly.

It was the question they’d avoided last night, too caught up in each other to care about consequences. But morning brought clarity, and with it, reality.

He traced the curve of her cheek with his thumb. “Now,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “we figure it out. Together.”