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She flinches. “My sister wasn’t here, and the ball was announced so long ago. Hundreds of people were coming, expecting to see your bride, and I thought… if she humiliated you…”
Beatrice sucks in a ragged breath. I stare at her, chest burning as she pushes on. “The first time I pretended to be her, I told myself it would be one time. That she’d come back soon, and the two of you could meet. But then Olympia stayed away longer, and I got buried in these lies, and I…”
“You let me announce my engagement to a woman I will never marry.”
She blinks. “You won’t?”
And fuck, is she really so oblivious to everything that passed between us yesterday? Is she in denial, or is it truly all in my head?
No. It doesn’t matter now.
My tone is light, but I can’t hide the anger pulsing beneath every word. “I consider myself reasonably open-minded, Beatrice, but I will not be cuckolded by a scuba diving instructor. Not even with prior warning.”
She nods, chin wobbling, and fuck, I hate that she’s miserable. She has no right to be upset by this, not when she’s the goddamn architect of this mess, and yet my instincts still tell me to pull her against my chest. To comfort her.
Fuck that.
I have never been this angry in my whole life.
“Was it all an act?” She’s shaking her head, eyes wide, but it’s not enough. Whatever she says will never be enough. “It wasn’t a very good one, by the way. After less than a minute in your sister’s company, it was clear which was the bolder twin.”
The barb lands with brutal precision. Beatrice blanches, her wash bag crinkling in her tight grip.
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner.” I watch her bloodless lips press together, harsh satisfaction clawing my insides. I’m tearing apart at the seams. The copper taste of blood is on my tongue, and I want her tohurt. I want her to feel as ruined as I do. “They promised me a bride with spirit, and instead I got you. A nervous wreck.”
I regret the words the second they leave my mouth. They taste sour. They taste likelies.And Beatrice sways on her feet, looking faint, but her words are clear. Stronger than I’ve ever heard before.
“Forgive me, Your Highness.” She places the wash bag in her suitcase, eyes lowered. “But perhaps in time you’ll be relieved not to have such a disappointing wife.”
Ha. She’s done me no favors. I back up toward the doorway, shaking my head, and hear the damning sound of Danika’s footsteps hurrying away down the hall.
“I will say goodbye now. I won’t see you again.”
Beatrice nods, but she won’t look at me. It’s yet another blow.
“Goodbye, Prince Alden.”
* * *
She’s making a liar out of us both. Because when I spot two staff members dragging suitcases out onto the driveway an hour later, two girls with dark hair and folded arms waiting for a car to pull up, I don’t hesitate.
I storm out of the palace, barking at the staff to go back inside. FuckingGerondis there too, tipping his head back in lazy greeting, but I ignore both him and Olympia.
“Your Highness—”
Beatrice’s eyes widen as I barrel toward her. I’m still raw and bruised inside, still so furious I can barely think, but when I haul her against my chest, her arms wind tight around my neck.
Our kiss is long and harsh. We barely come up for air, and I spread my hands over her back, crushing her more firmly against me.
Distantly, I hear Olympia hissing something to her lover.
The staff are probably watching too. I don’t care.
Beatrice whimpers against my mouth, and then I’m clutching her face. Tipping her head back and sliding my tongue past her lips.
I want to taste her. I kiss her with such force, she stumbles back a step, but I follow. I bite her plump bottom lip, then kiss her harder.
It’s not enough. It will never be enough.
