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Her mouth dropped open. “But... I thought Temperance and Stanley had them all destroyed. I managed to get a copy of the toxicology report that showed Miles was drunk, but everything else... I thought it had been destroyed.”
“One of the officers kept it.” He placed another kiss on her forehead. “Clara... I can’t imagine what you went through. I knew you were strong, but seeing what you experienced that night, and then having to deal with that witch in the aftermath...” He leaned back, a sad smile on his handsome face. “You don’t know how strong you truly are, do you?”
“Just as you don’t realize what an incredible leader you are.”
Wind whipped around the corner of one of the hedges before he could answer. Clara shivered.
“Let’s go inside. We can talk more where it’s warmer.”
She let him grab her hand and lead her back inside the palace. It was still early, but already she could hear the distant clang of pots in the royal family kitchen where a small staff was putting together breakfast for Alaric, Daxon and some of the higher-ranked officials who lived in the palace. A vacuum whirred down the hall as Alaric led her to elevator. A palace guard rounded the corner and stopped, standing back at attention until Alaric waved for him to be on his way. She didn’t miss the slight hint of a smile on the guard’s lips as his eyes drifted down to hers and Alaric’s joined hands.
Linnaea had started out as a place to escape to, to put distance between her and London. But somewhere along the line it had become home.
Please let it continue to be home, she prayed as the elevator ascended.Please let it not be too late for us to become a family.
It took her a moment to realize that the elevator had taken them a couple floors above her apartment. As the doors whooshed open, she realized they were standing outside the door of the king’s family apartment.
“Alaric...”
He turned and, before she could say another word, dropped to one knee.
“Clara, we have a lot to talk about. I have a lot to apologize for.”
“So do I,” she said shakily. “I should have told you—”
“Yes, you should have,” he cut in gently, “but I should have trusted you.” He reached out and grabbed her other hand in his. “But I’m going to do things differently moving forward. If you’ll let me.”
“Let you?”
“As your husband. Clara, would you do me the honor of letting me be your husband and show you every day how much I want you in my life?”
She couldn’t hold back the tears this time. But at least they were happy tears, she thought as she nodded. He stood, cradled her face once more in his hands and kissed her. It was a kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet as his lips moved over hers, firm and possessive and yet so gentle and loving.
He pulled back. Before she could say another word, he opened the doors to the apartment, swept her into his arms and carried her across the threshold. The furniture was draped in plastic covers, the floor speckled with plaster dust, the walls half coated in paint.
She’d never seen anything so wonderful in her whole life.
“We’ll be moved in by the end of next week,” he said as he carried her up the curving stairs and down the hall. “I never want to spend another night without you in our bed.”
She sighed contentedly and relaxed in his arms. “Our bed” had a lovely ring to it.
“Alaric, about what I said before I left—”
“You were right, Clara.”
“But I wasn’t! You are nothing like your father, Alaric.”
He stopped in front of one of the doors and gently set her on her feet.
“I’m not. But in that moment, I was.” He grabbed her hands and held them tightly in his grasp. “My history with my father, seeing what the negative press did to my mother, made me react in the worst way possible. I was hurt that you hadn’t confided in me, angry after I’d shared what I had with you.” He held up a finger as her lips parted to speak. “But that wasn’t fair. Just because I chose to share something with you did not make you beholden to share with me.”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I just... I had never told anyone else what happened. I was so ashamed. I hadn’t forgiven myself, so how could I possibly ask you to forgive me or understand what happened?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Clara. At least nothing I need to forgive you for. All I can ask is that you forgive me.” He brought one of her hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I can’t promise I won’t say anything hurtful the rest of our lives, or that I won’t make mistakes. But I can promise I will try every day to be the kind of husband you deserve and the father our child needs.”
“And I will try to be the kind of wife who will support you and your country.”
His proud smile filled her with warmth.
