Page 34 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

I reach down and grab her left hand, then frown when I see a silver, diamond-studded band set with a large square diamond in the center on her ring finger. The stone is huge, as if the ring were selected purely for its size.

“Where did this come from?”

Her lips thin. “My mother. She had it ordered as soon as I told her about the engagement. I understand needing a ring after we made the announcement, but it’s just—”

“It’s not you.”

She blinks. “No. It’s not.”

I start to slide the ring off her finger. She flexes her hand. “I don’t like it,” she says in a hushed voice, “but I do need something for the photos.”

“And I have something.”

I tug the diamond monstrosity off her finger and release her hand as I tuck it in my pocket. I pull out the blue velvet box and flip open the lid. Three sapphires wink up at us from a silver band, surrounded by an oval of gleaming seed pearls.

Sophaya’s eyes widen. “Dominic.”

I take her hand again. A small tremble passes through her as I slide the ring onto her finger. Possessiveness ripples through me. I like seeing my ring on her finger. Like the way her body responds to me. The last few days have been jammed with too much for me to think about intimacy.

But I’m thinking about it now.

Neither of us are getting everything we want out of this marriage. It’s a compromise for both of us. But there are things that connect us beyond the baby.

And the thought of another man touching her makes me want to go berserk.

“Where did you get it?”

“A jewelry store in Ardavela.”

Her lips part. “Ardavela?”

“‘A hidden gem set in the valley below the Urkiza Peaks,’” I recite. “And the same town where your perfume is made.” I nod at the ring. “The sapphires are imported from Italy. But the seed pearls were harvested in the Monteloure River.”

“Dominic.” She splays her fingers, stares down at the ring as if she can scarcely believe it’s real. When she looks up at me with shining eyes, I feel like a god. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“There you are.” The queen appears at my side, her chin lifted and her lips pressed into a thin line. “They’re ready for you.” Her gaze drops down to the ring, and she frowns. “What is that?”

Sophaya’s face smooths out into an expressionless mask. “My engagement ring, Mother.”

“But your outfit—”

“Looks elegant, as requested.” Sophaya folds her hands together. “I’m wearing Dominic’s ring.”

Satisfaction curls through me. So does pride as Sophaya stands up to her mother.

The queen looks down at the ring, then suddenly looks at me. Wistfulness flickers in her eyes. “All right.” She hesitates. “It’s a beautiful ring, Sophaya.”

Sophaya’s eyes widen a fraction. “Thank you.” She looks down and tilts the ring so the sunlight glints off the sapphire. “He bought it in Ardavela.”

Her voice is soft, almost shy. When she looks up, there’s an innocent hope in her eyes that makes me want to sit the king and queen down and have a long conversation about all the ways they failed their daughter.

But now is not the time, especially when the queen reaches out and lays a gentle hand on Sophaya’s shoulder. I don’t know if this is a genuine display of affection or if there’s an ulterior motive lurking beneath the surface. Right now, however, Sophaya is happy, and that’s all that matters in the moment.

The queen leads us down the stairs and across the lawn to the fountain. The photographers greet us and immediately set about arranging us in various poses. Most of them are formal, stiff, us standing next to each other, Sophaya just in front of me. Staff drift in and out of the shots, adjusting her hair, brushing imaginary lint off my lapels, whispering words of encouragement to take a damn photo.

“Posed shots are done!” My relief is short-lived as the photographer smiles. “Could I get a couple candid shots, Your Highnesses?”

Sophaya glances up at me. “Are you all right?”