Page 126

She was done with a meek, apologetic existence—no more being shamed for who she was, or for who her parents were or what they’d done. No more being fearful of what anyone said or thought about her, online or otherwise. She didn’t care what they had to say, when now in her world the worst had already happened. Alex had banished her. But she would find a balance in her life. Never would she take advantage of her connection to him, but some distraction from her heartbreak, some meaningful purpose was the only way she could move forward. And she was never going to apologise for her feelings. Alex was wrong—moods might flicker, but the underlying emotion was strong and true and enduring.

‘Princess Tilly!’

Rafa shielded her as the gallery staff created a corridor through the crowd, but the waiting media throng surged forward.

‘What about King Alex?’ one reporter asked. ‘Why aren’t you with him in Montaurella?’

The question was inevitable but she’d been mulling over her answer for days. At her car door she paused. Rafa stepped to the side and she faced the cameras. This was the only time she would ever address this.

‘I love Alex very much.’ She refused to be anything less than honest. Keeping secrets had only ever killed her confidence and kept her trapped. ‘He’s an excellent King. He cares enormously for the country and the people there. Montaurella is his absolute priority.’

‘What’s your priority?’

Her heart twisted. ‘My priority is to support him however he needs me to.’

Chapter Twenty

Alex didn’t look at the phone lying face-down on the table next to him. He’d specifically instructed Rafa not to make contact unless there was a problem. Which there clearly wasn’t. No news was good news. Out of sight, out of mind.

Focus.

He sat at the large table flanked by analysts and palace stewards as they thrashed out the final plan for his coronation in a few weeks. Sending Tilly away had been the best idea. As long as he just kept going, he’d be fine. Meetings, decisions, appearances, speeches. No time to visit Zaffira or go online. Avoidance and escape took the form of discipline and resistance. Rafa had her safety covered. Asking would be invasive and he refused to be a stalker. He would remain strong. With no distractions he went full focus into the constitutional requirements. Into maintaining the attentive, uncompromised presence the transition period required. He had to be here. Stable, certain. He had to show confidence to instil confidence. The harder he worked, the better it was. No time to dwell on Tilly, what with managing his business as well. He was getting little more than four hours’ sleep a night and thriving.

His phone rang with the tone saved for personal calls. His pulse leapt and he snatched it up without looking at the screen.

‘You okay?’ Erik asked.

‘Yep.’ He gritted his teeth, quelling his disappointment. ‘You?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘You sure?’ He pushed back from the table and went to the antechamber for privacy.

‘Are you?’ Erik countered. ‘You forced his abdication, but you didn’t want to tell me what was going on? Just let me see it on the news like the rest of the world?’

‘Because you would’ve delayed your trip. You’ve been stuck here long enough. You know it’s time I stepped up.’

‘Heaven forbid you ever let anyone help you, Alex.’

‘I wasn’t present enough to see what was right under my nose.’

‘You mean Tilly?’ Erik asked.

‘I mean our father,’ Alex snapped.

Erik’s breath hissed down the line. ‘I saw you at a meeting with the prime minister and you look like shit. Are you getting any sleep?’

‘You don’t need to be my caretaker, Erik,’ Alex growled. ‘You don’t have to worry about me or the palace any more.’

‘Right. Good to know.’ Erik hung up.

Alex sighed, angry for handling that badly. He didn’t want to feel guilty for not opening up—Erik hadn’t with him either. He’d done the same thing regarding their mother. Shut Alex out. Both of them had kept secret burdens. He just needed to focus on work—it protected him from the biggest problems.

Hours later, impatient and unsettled, Alex stalked through the palace. Somehow he ended up in the museum quarters.

‘Why are you still here? It’s late.’ He glared at Kara, who was sitting behind her desk.

‘I’m finalising that new exhibition.’