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"I love you," I told him, and it was a promise.
His hand found my clit and pushed me into another orgasm. "And I love you."
Almost Abdication
The next morning, I heard a phone buzz. I turned towards the irritating sound. Massimo's face went white when he read the text message that'd woken him up. I only had one eye open and a hand on his chest.
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
"My father is dead."
Silence echoed in the room.
"It's time for you to take the throne, then." I yanked the sheet up and grimaced at myself in the mirror. I was surprised that anybody wanted to be in bed with a troll like me. I was a total mess. "You have a coronation to attend. You're the crown prince. The king is dead. Long live the king."
"I'm going to abdicate. You and the baby are more important to me than any throne.“
I looked at my husband. "You can't." I shook my head. "I'll just divorce you. I can be your mistress or something."
His jaw clenched. "No chance in hell," he told me. "You're never going to be a dirty secret or be called one ever again. You are my wife."
"Stop being stubborn and think about what's best for your people," I argued. "They deserve a real princess."
"As far as I'm concerned, you are one. There's precedent in my family lineage for a prince to marry a commoner. And we have a baby to think about.“
"Don't you think that your people deserve to be proud of their princess?"
"They should be proud of you. They will be."
I shook my head. "I won't allow you to fall on the sword for me. Our marriage is bigger than just the two of us. You have responsibilities as head of state that are impossible for you to ignore."
"I love you," he told me. The desperation in his voice brought tears to my eyes.
"I love you more," I told him. "And I'm not going to let you sacrifice everything just to have me."
A tear dropped from my right eye as I turned away from him. One way or another, I was going to find a way to fix this.
I was quiet in the plane. Massimo was much paler than he usually was. I knew that losing his father was a huge blow. I held his hand the whole time as we flew from New York to Italy. His mother had already left. She’d been en route to Italy when his father had died.
When I got there, I had a maid waiting for me in rooms that adjoined Massimo’s suite. She had a bunch of scratchy black clothing laid out. I didn’t protest. I was there to support Massimo while he took care of his father’s funeral. My personal comfort was secondary. I absolutely refused to put on heels, since they’d be a nightmare in a cemetery. I wore my own worn out Mary Jane shoes, despite my maid’s protests.
I stood by Massimo's side as the pallbearers carried his father's remains away. If he weren't a prince, I'd be holding his hand right now. But royal etiquette regarding funerals did not permit me to touch him. The funeral was public. The burial was going to be private, just his immediate family and closest friends. The small group of us went in a handful of limos. The burial was a blur. I was standing behind Massimo and couldn't see his face. I noticed the stir in the crowd when Massimo put the first ceremonial shovelful of dirt on top of his father.
When he turned around, his hands were shaking. He didn't seem like he was all the way there.
"Let's get you home," I told him, curling one arm around his waist. He let me bring him into the car and head back to his palace. We'd been staying there since we'd flown in from another continent. His mother wasn't exactly welcoming, but I hadn't found any dead rodents in my bed yet, so I was safe for now. I knew that she'd been too preoccupied with her dying husband to pay real attention to me. Now that her husband was dead and buried, I was expecting to experience even more scrutiny than usual. Terrifying wasn't enough to describe her.
As soon as we walked in the door, we were ambushed by his mother and a cadre of serious men in black suits.
“We need to talk,” his mother said without preamble. She turned to me. “You should go.” I didn’t know if she meant now or forever, so I clung to Massimo’s hand a little harder.
“She can be here for whatever you want to say to me.”
“You’re a king now,” his mother hissed. “And you have a little…strumpet.”
I flinched a little but just gripped his hand tighter.
“She’s my wife and about to be your queen, Mamma.”
