Page 54 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

“When your grandparents were alive, were they happy?”

Slowly, she nods. “They were. I don’t know how often they had time like this together, but my grandmother mentioned picnics on the beach, slipping away to a bed-and-breakfast in the mountains. I know they traveled quite a bit, too. They had each other, and a team of advisors they trusted. It wasn’t perfect. They argued and disagreed. But they had each other,” she repeats softly.

“And your parents didn’t.”

Her face darkens. “No.” She looks back out over the ocean.

I can feel the sadness take over, see it in the way the corners of her mouth turn down and her shoulders drop. “My earliest memories are of my father kissing me good night. It should have been a happy memory, but he reeked of perfume. Mother came in. I saw on her face that she instantly knew. She told me good night, but she sounded so angry. She yanked him out and closed the door, but I could still hear them. She accused him of having an affair.”

She sets her fork down and crosses her arms over her chest. “I told my grandfather. That’s when he apologized and told me that he shared some of the blame, although I didn’t learn about how he pushed Father into marrying Mother until a couple of years later.” She hesitates, glances at me.

“Our situation is different.”

She gives me a slight smile. “It’s like you read my mind.”

“You gave me a choice, Sophaya.”

“Thank you. My father made his own choices, too. My grandfather strongly suggested the marriage, but he’s the one who ultimately agreed because he was afraid of losing his right to the throne. He may have loved that other woman in his own way, but not enough. And then he ended up repeating my grandfather’s mistakes by pressuring my brother.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know if Charles would have made a good king, but I know he would have at least had a better chance if he had been given some leeway.” Her throat bobs as she swallows hard. “Charles gave up his right to the throne the morning after he wrapped his car around a tree at the edge of the palace property.”

“I know.”

Her laugh is hoarse, pained. “Of course you do.”

I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “It came out when I was talking with the security team. I’m sorry.”

She looks down at our joined hands. “Do you…” She pauses, breathes in. “Is he okay?”

“He’s out west. Wyoming. Working as a ranch hand.” I squeeze her hand, wait until she looks up at me. “He hasn’t had a drink since he arrived.”

Tears pool in her eyes. “He hasn’t?” When I shake my head, she nods as she tries to blink the tears away. “That’s good. I’m really glad.” She suddenly stands. “Let’s walk on the beach.”

My eyes drop down to the full plate of food in front of her, but I don’t push. She’s barely mentioned her brother, but I know she cares for him, can hear the pain in her voice when she talks about him. I don’t want to cause her any more hurt. She’s had enough to last a lifetime.

I stand and take her hand. We walk down the steps onto the beach. The sand is warm, but the gentle waves moving up the beach keep it cool enough for bare feet as we walk.

Finally, she sighs. “Sorry. It’s painful thinking what might have been. I developed my own methods of dealing with the neglect from my parents.”

I think of her coldness, her aloof demeanor when we first met. I didn’t like having my authority challenged, feeling like she was attempting to control me or tell me how to do my job, so I assumed the worst—even though I’ve done the exact same thing to protect myself.

Yet Sophaya hasn’t closed herself off completely the way I did. She treats her staff like family, loves children and gives of herself without thinking twice, even when it drags her down.

I always thought of my own withdrawal as strength. Yet now, as I watch my wife, I wonder if I’ve been a coward all along.

Sophaya

“Keep your eyes closed.”

I laugh as my feet sink into the sand. When Dominic brought me down onto the beach and tied a blindfold over my eyes, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I’ve enjoyed seeing a side of him that I’ve never glimpsed before. He’s still seductive, powerful but also playful, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him.

“How far is it?”

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

“I do.”

For a moment, he says nothing. I didn’t mean to say those words out loud. But I mean them.

“You can open them.” His voice is husky as he unties my blindfold.