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“Not as much as yours,” I prod.

“Of course not.” He scoffs softly. “But, it wasn’t the time to correct him at that moment, even if you felt as if you should. I respect your defense of the team you’ve been working with, I do. But it wasn’t the time, nor the place.”

I hang my head, a flurry of emotions coursing through me. “I do apologize for overstepping, and it won’t happen again. I just—I didn’t like it. And it was hard to listen to, that’s all.”

That’s all is such a lie, but I don’t want to push it. I know I was in the wrong, but I can’t ignore the little voice in the back of my head that’s screaming over the fact that Lock isn’t defending me; both now and last night.

He tilts my chin up, our skin brushing for the first time today. The point of contact sends a shiver down my spine, and when I meet his brown eyes, they soften a fraction. “I didn’t like it either,” he admits. “But there are going to be many things you don’t like. Many times where you want to say something but can’t. And last night, I needed to protect not only my image, but the Crown’s.”

And that’s why he chose to hush me, rather than speak up on my behalf.

But Beau didn’t.

Beau isn’t the Crown Prince.

“Despite that hiccup last night,” he continues, “You did a great job. Everyone responded well to you, and I received numerous notes this morning from guests and staff alike at how much they enjoyed you.”

“Really?”

He drops his hand but remains close. Closer than we’ve ever been. “Yes. And in case I forgot to say it before, I am grateful for your hard work with the scholarship. I know it’s not an easy task to show up week after week and ask people for money. But I’ve heard nothing but great things from the team as well, and they all praise your dedication and enthusiasm for the cause.”

There’s nothing forced about the smile that blooms across my face. “That means the world to me, truly. I know that if our fathers wouldn’t have been friends, I likely would’ve needed a scholarship just like the ones we’re creating. I don’t forget that each minute I’m there and doing my part to give back. It’s why—” I cut myself off, shocked at how bold I almost was to say it.

But Lock finishes the sentence for me. “It’s why you want to be queen.” He grins. “You don’t have to be embarrassed to say it. Like I said, we both know what this arrangement is.”

I’m beginning to hate the word arrangement.

“That’s why I’m so pleased by how the ball went last night. I watched how you kept your composure and stamina throughout introduction after introduction, how you remembered names and faces despite the sea of them in front of you. It’s a quality that can’t be taught. You either have the manner for it or don’t. And you”—he takes my hand and holds it between both of his—“have it. I think you’ll be a good queen, Briar.”

His words drop straight into the endless pit of wanting to be enough for everyone, and for the first time in a long time, I think it could finally be full. I preen under his praise and almost ask him to say it again.

“You do?” I ask, barely audible.

He nods, sincerity written across his elegant face. “I wouldn’t say it unless I did.”

I want to fold myself in his arms in relief. It’s what I’ve been told my whole life, but to hear it from the only person who truly can determine whether I will fulfill it or not means more than I thought it could.

But just like a fairytale Beatrice used to watch on repeat as a girl, the clock runs out.

“Your Highness?” Edwin’s grating voice sounds from the distance.

Lock drags his eyes from my face, over my shoulder. “It’s time?”

I don’t hear a response, but I assume he gets confirmation because he’s already withdrawing. “I have to go. Stay as long as you’d like. My driver will be waiting to take you home when you wish.”

I open my mouth to say my goodbye, but he’s already striding away. From one meeting of the day to the next, it seems.

It’s slightly jarring, but I decide to take him up on his offer and wander around the grounds on my own. It’s better than returning home, plus we barely even explored a quarter of the gardens.

I get lost in my thoughts as I wonder, the gravel crunching underfoot. I may not like the way Lock shut me down, or the fact that he only gave me twenty minutes of his time, but in a way, I expected it. He’s turning out to be exactly what I thought, the person I remembered from over the years. What I’ve been raised to want.

Stoic, professional, kind enough, predictable. He has his duty, knows his place, and takes it seriously.

Sure, today wasn’t exactly the romantic frolic in the gardens I might’ve been daydreaming about on the drive over here, but it served its purpose to us both. Got us on the same page, got to know each other a little better, and therefore, continues us on the path to an engagement.

I like predictable, I remind myself. I’ve always hated surprises, and while sometimes the expectations from my parents growing up was suffocating at times, I also liked that I knew what I was supposed to do. That I had perimeters to live within, a future to work toward.

Lock’s the same way. He knows what he needs to do, lives by the rules and duties of his title, and that’s that.