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But they didn’t get a chance to continue their banter because the tables were set and they were ushered to them.
He had never had the chance to see Livia in quite this environment. And he was stunned by how easy it seemed for her. She was able to carry on conversations seamlessly. He introduced her as his advisor, and it was accepted that she was so. Her opinion given weight, just as he imagined it should be.
And as he watched her speak, as he watched her bring everyone at the table onto her side, he realized that she was so much more than he had ever given her credit for.
She should be promoted. Not just be an assistant or an advisor. Perhaps some sort of liaison. She was the diplomat; she knew everything about politics and Monte Blanco. Everything about the country itself.
He could remember her as she’d been. Skinny and tragic and bedraggled when he had first found her. And she was as far away from that now as a woman born to be queen might be.
Queen.
The talks the table continued for long hours, while other revelers that were not diplomats of one country or another enjoyed dancing, and desserts.
“Shall we take this conversation to the balcony?”
One of the representatives from the United States asked that question, and Livia nodded eagerly. “Yes. I would be happy to continue the conversation outside.”
“And you, Your Majesty?”
“Of course. If we have exhausted the table’s goodwill for the topic.”
“I fear very much we might have,” the man said, laughing.
One of the leaders from the United Kingdom joined them, and they stood out there talking for many hours, about the ways in which each country could benefit the other. And he felt, by the end, that when they convened tomorrow for the actual summit, things would go well.
The diplomat from the United States left first, followed by the man from the United Kingdom.
And that left himself and Livia standing there out on the balcony. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her pale arms. “I’m sorry about our fight earlier,” she said. “It was pointless. You’re right. This is what matters. Monte Blanco. And this went... Well. It went well.”
“I would like to think so.”
“I do feel sorry for Violet.”
“I don’t. She will be treated well.”
“But without freedom.”
He leaned against the balustrade that overlooked the grand gardens below. “Do any of us have true freedom, Livia?”
The words scraped raw against his throat and he disliked how deep a place they came from.
“I don’t know how to answer that.” Her tone was carefully bland. And it angered him. She had been charming inside, and here she was so careful with him.
She was like that sometimes. Fire and unguarded in a moment, and then unreachable in another and he hated it. Because he could not figure out why. And he could not force her to change when she had her mind set on retreating as she had now.
“Think about it,” he pushed. “We are all born into a certain position. And then life does what it will with us. Those who have control of us when we are children... They get to have so much control over what we become. As we discussed with my father... He may not have been able to determine what manner of king I am, but his hooks are in me that I have not been able to successfully remove. I still have nightmares.”
Those nightmares she alone had seen. She had touched him then, without fear. Without a wall.
There was silence for a moment.
“So do I,” she said softly.
The catch in her voice betrayed her. She was letting her guard down and he found he wanted that.
He felt, for some strange reason, like there was sand running through an hourglass. That if they did not have this moment, they would never have it.
Because of Violet? Perhaps.
