“Noted,” Emerald said. “I believe Andrei has just the bolthole.”
“He has more secret properties than the one that he spirited you off to in Romania?”
“Yes. He’s the son of a notorious crime lord. He loves a secret hiding place. Though he resented it when I said it was like having secret clubhouses like a little boy.” She smiled. “I paid for that.” Onyx grimaced. “Anyway he doesn’t need them now. You can take her there, and the house is huge. You won’t even have to see her, but everyone will believe that you’re having some kind of intimate escape.”
“Perfect.”
“How nice that I’ve earned your praise.”
In a bad mood, because his sister had been right, he went to find Birdie. She was not in her room. And it took him ages to track her down, by asking staff. He found her in the kitchen, stirring a pot, and chatting to the head of the serving staff. The woman who had yelled at him like he was a child and not a king. Elizabeth.
“What are you doing here?”
“Visiting,” she said, stepping in front of Elizabeth like she had to protect her from him.
“I need to speak to you.”
Elizabeth looked at him, one gray brow raised. “Good to see you too, Your Highness.”
“Is it?”
“Nice to still have my job anyway.”
“Don’t push it.”
He gestured for Birdie to follow him.
“We’re going away on a honeymoon,” he said.
She stopped. “We are?”
“Yes. We are. It is in our best interest to try and make this look as real as possible. By which I mean, we need to make it look like it is an emotional connection. If we can do that…if we can do that, then it may do something to quell the rumors that are beginning to bubble up.”
“Rumors?”
“Many of them true.”
“I see.”
“So we’re going off to a private island. My sister is arranging everything.”
“Oh.” She had a very strange look on her face. “I’ve never been out of Basilia.”
“You haven’t?”
She shook her head. “No. When would I have ever gone?”
“I… I don’t know.”
He realized that beyond a very basic biography he didn’t really know anything about his wife. He knew that she was a maid. He knew that she wasn’t nobility. He knew that her stepmother was…a disgusting woman. But he didn’t know anything about her life beyond that. She had never traveled. He spent his life on private jets, going to many of the world’s most beautiful places. Often for work, yes, but he was able to enjoy the beauty of a place.
“I will have the staff pack your things for a warm climate.”
She frowned. “I’m still not used to having people do things for me. I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“Does it matter how you feel about it?”
“Well. Yes. I would say that it does. I’m still trying to get my bearings. Still trying to get a handle on all of this.”
