Page 152 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

Astrid felt Anja’s consternation and disapproval. She understood it. ‘I don’t have my own life,’ Astrid said simply. ‘You and I both know that.’

What was this, if not the perfect proof of that?

* * *

For the first time in a long time, the sight of Juanita’s name on his phone screen didn’t raise even a hint of feeling in Javier. Somehow, he was free of the ghost of her too. The damage her treatment had wrought was no longer a part of him.

He contemplated ignoring the call, but then, why? If she no longer held the power to hurt him, what was the point in ignoring her? He swiped and lifted the phone to his ear in one motion.

‘You fucking bastard.’

He almost laughed. ‘Well, Merry Christmas to you, too.’

‘Don’t you dare. You’re sleeping with the Queen of Norvenheim? Is that to get back at me, because I married a count?’

His gut clenched in fierce, instant rejection of Juanita knowing anything about him and Astrid. ‘What?’

‘There’s no point denying it. The whole world has seen the photographs.’

Photographs?

He shook his head, knowing that to be impossible. They’d been so careful. He quickly moved the phone, putting the call on speaker and loading up a browser. A quick type of his name brought up the photos in question and there was no mistaking the intimacy of their pose.

He swallowed a curse of his own as he began to stride through the apartment, gathering his things. Only one thought was moving through him, like a godawful hammer. This photo could ruin everything. Astrid would hate this. If she saw the picture, she would panic. She’d push him away, hard. It would be over and he wasn’t sure he could bear that. Even though he’d known it was the only logical outcome, now that it loomed in front of him, a strong sense of desperate, aching need forced him to rail against reality.

‘You told me nothing was going on—’

‘Juanita, listen to me.’ Determination made his voice dark. ‘This is none of your business. My life is none of your business. Whatever hold you think you have over me, you don’t. I’ve moved on. You should, too.’ Until that moment, until he spoke the words, he didn’t realise how true they were.

‘But—’

He disconnected the call and immediately contacted Enrique instead. ‘We need to leave, right now.’

* * *

Purely by virtue of the fact that a visit to the war memorial on Christmas day was not a time for media intrusion, she was saved from the necessity of answering any questions directly. She performed the role as she’d been schooled to, greeting military families, standing throughout the solemn service, before placing a special wreath made of holly, ivy and pine branches at the base of the memorial.

Anja whisked her into the limousine before any errant reporter could quiz her on the photos. It wouldn’t last, though. She would need to face the music and soon.

Sure enough, as the car slid into the palace gates and pulled to a stop at the east doors, Prime Minister Skarsgard was standing in wait, his expression showing a mask of concern.

‘Well, Your Majesty,’ he said, bowing slightly as she stepped out of the car. ‘This is a mess.’

Her brows lifted in surprise at the rudeness to his tone. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘An engagement announcement should have preceded anything like this. Those photos are not particularly palatable, you know.’

She stared at him with a sense of surprise. ‘An engagement? Sir, I’m not marrying Javier Diamandi.’

The look of confusion grew. ‘Your Majesty, surely you must see, the necessity of marriage—’

‘Yes, but I’m not marrying him.’

‘But the photos—’

‘Tell me you don’t think I have to marry every man I date?’

His lips moved as he tried to formulate a response. ‘Are you planning to date many men, Your Majesty?’