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Any other bride would have been ecstatic. Clara, however, could barely stand to look at her own reflection in the mirror. She stood at the window of her suite, her last night in the apartment she’d called home for the past seven years, her fingers resting on the cold glass of the window.
She’d tossed and turned all night. Was she doing the right thing? Should she tell Alaric about Miles? The accident? Could she make a loveless marriage work?
Yet if she did change her mind, told Alaric she couldn’t go through with the wedding...where would that leave her? Her child? She’d be trading one set of problems for another.
“You look beautiful, Your Highness.”
Clara forced a smile onto her face as she turned to Meira Laird, her former assistant and now officially the new public relations officer. The petite raven-haired young woman had come across as timid and shy when Clara had first met her a year ago when she interviewed her for the position of executive assistant to the executive assistant of the prince. Her quiet, compassionate nature concealed a talent for communication. It was why Clara had mentioned Meira’s interest in public relations to Alaric.
She just hadn’t anticipated Alaric moving forward without talking to her first.
In a matter of days, their relationship had drastically changed. As his executive assistant, she had felt respected. Alaric consulted her, asked for her opinions and, most importantly, listened to her.
Yet between his push to get married so quickly and now making changes in her staffing without talking to her, was the camaraderie and rapport they’d developed over the years going to be replaced by a dictator who made decisions for her? Her career had given her purpose after her unwanted time as a trophy wife. Who would she be without it?
An image of Miles’s face appeared in her mind. Handsome, yes, made even more attractive by tucks and nips since he’d been in college. She’d been so lost after her mother’s death, being truly alone in the world for the first time, that she hadn’t noticed the signs until his ring was on her finger.
Not true.No, she had noticed in the months leading up to the wedding. Had felt uncomfortable with how he discouraged her from befriending anyone he didn’t introduce her to. But she had wanted so desperately to be happy, to have the kind of marriage her parents had had, to not be alone, that she had looked the other way, gone along with his suggestions to avoid conflict.
Panic fluttered low in her belly. Was she doing the same thing now?
“You look a thousand miles away.”
Clara shook her head and focused on Meira.
“I am,” she confessed with a smile. “Sorry.”
The few people Miles had allowed her to be friends with had snubbed their noses at her once she’d gotten rid of the Clemont name. Trusting others, let alone herself, had been a challenge. Becoming close with Meira had been a saving grace she didn’t even know she needed. She’d finally started to relax and enjoy life outside of work again. How quickly she’d come to trust and feel comfortable around Briony had been a result of her friendship with Meira, too.
What if her marriage to Alaric altered her relationship with Meira, too? What if she withdrew into herself and lost so much of the progress she’d made?
Meira approached her and slid an arm around her shoulders, giving her a comforting squeeze.
“This is different. He’s different.”
She’d confessed some of the details of her first marriage to Meira over the summer after one too many glasses of wine. Meira had returned the favor by sharing her own story of heartbreak, a young man she’d fallen in love with who had deserted her when her family had lost their fortune. The summer night revelations had bonded the two women.
“He’s different in some ways,” Clara agreed. “But if I wasn’t carrying his child, we wouldn’t be getting married.”
Meira’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she stepped back and smoothed the skirt of Clara’s dress.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
Clara turned away so Meira wouldn’t see her rolling her eyes. Meira had been just as trepidatious as Clara about relationships until Briony and Cass had descended on the palace and surprised everyone by falling in love. Planning the royal wedding had brought on a severe case of romanticism.
“I am.”
In the mirror she caught Meira’s head shaking.
“I think you two have been mistaking respect and admiration for something more.”
Clara laughed.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“The way you two look at each other. How His Highness...” Meira’s hands fluttered in the air for a moment as she tried to find the right words. “Softens around you. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He’s more relaxed around you, and I don’t think it’s just because he respects your work.”
She’d thought so, too. But based on how quickly he’d shifted back into being prince, how rapidly he’d decided her opinion didn’t matter now that they were engaged, Alaric reserved his more personal interactions for friends or close acquaintances, not lovers or fiancées. It had been eight years since she’d been touched so intimately, and the only time in her life she’d enjoyed physical pleasure. Of course she would have a physical reaction to a man who could make her feel like that.
