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Amadeo shifted his weight off her. Immediately she conjured her smile. She doubted he’d see it but she was taking no chances. A royal woman must always be agreeable. Or face the consequences.
No, she didn’t think he’d notice whether she smiled or not because the room was in complete darkness. There had been a slight gap in the curtains of the window nearest the bed but he’d closed it himself before getting into bed beside her, turning off the lights and getting down to business. From the moment he’d entered her room that evening and made some stilted effort at small talk, his eyes had rested on her face for barely seconds at a time.
Despite all her best efforts to please him and be agreeable, Amadeo did not want to be married to her. She knew it in her heart.
When he wished her a goodnight a short while later, it took everything she had to wish him the same in her usual bright tone.
Please, please let me conceive soon.
Another lonely week passed, ending with Elsbeth sitting at her dressing table while the castle’s beauty team transformed her appearance for her first Saturday evening engagement, which was being held at the Italian embassy, in her honour no less.
She’d undertaken only four engagements that week with Amadeo. They had been select daytime engagements with Ceresian industry, chosen to ease her into her new role as princess. Having often acted as Dominic’s consort since he’d inherited the throne, she’d found the familiar routine soothing and a welcome distraction from her loneliness.
For the first time, she felt an unexpected pang of homesickness. At least she’d had friends in Monte Cleure, cousins and second cousins she’d been raised and educated with. She knew exactly where in the palace she was permitted, knew who to trust—no one—and who to be extra wary of. She’d had her mother to guide her. She missed her wise counsel. She missed having a goodnight kiss brushed against her cheek each evening. Her new family in Ceres, she feared, had already forgotten her existence.
She felt guilt that, despite all her mother’s coaching and advice, Elsbeth had turned her husband away from her. All their engagements were shared but they had been as lonely as if she’d conducted them alone. Amadeo’s Prince Charming persona did not extend to her. In public he was courteous and gentlemanly and stayed close to her side like a good prince should, and yet somehow he managed to avoid ever touching her. All journeys to and from their engagements were spent in the back of their car with their private secretaries and security, all conversation conducted in rapid Italian. Elsbeth understood Italian but not at the speed in which they spoke it. It only served to exacerbate her sense of isolation.
With the time rapidly approaching for their latest engagement, one that would end with Amadeo sharing her bed for a short while, Elsbeth tried to cheer herself up. Loneliness was making her wear rose-coloured glasses about Monte Cleure. Here, in Ceres, she had more freedom than she’d ever enjoyed. If her staff were spying on her, they hid it well. She was allowed to choose the food she ate and the clothes she wore. She’d not once inwardly cowered under menaces or threats...
But, as she thought the latter, she became aware of a dull ache deep in her abdomen that quickly turned into a painful cramp. As a beautician was, at that moment, sweeping her eyelashes with mascara, Elsbeth fought the instinct to double over, instead clenching her teeth and gripping tightly to the arms of the chair she was sitting in, and rode out the pain.
Amadeo, having just had a scotch poured for him and bracing himself for the evening ahead, was surprised at his brother’s appearance in his quarters. ‘I’m about to leave for the embassy,’ he told him.
‘I know. I wanted to catch you before you left.’
‘Is something wrong?’ Their quarters were reasonably close together but generally they found it easier to message or call when they wanted something from the other.
Marcelo helped himself to a scotch. ‘Clara’s been badgering me to arrange a night for you and Elsbeth to have dinner with us.’
‘For what purpose?’
His brother leaned back against the mahogany bar. Where Elsbeth’s quarters had been turned into a princess’s paradise, Amadeo’s own identically sized quarters had a dark gothic vibe. His mean-spirited misanthrope grandmother had lived in the quarters before him, and most of the dark wood furnishings and intense chiaroscuro paintings from artists such as Caravaggio had been there since her time. As the only thing he required from his quarters was privacy, he’d seen no need to make many changes to it.
‘For the purpose that she’s the newest member of our family and we’ve seen nothing of her since the wedding,’ Marcelo replied. ‘Clara’s been itching to spend time with her and I’m afraid I can’t restrain her any more—she says two weeks is long enough for the two of you to spend alone getting to know each other, so unless you agree and set a date you’ll have Clara to deal with.’
This was the most effective threat Marcelo could have hit him with. Knowing better than to roll his eyes—Marcelo was extremely protective of his wife and Amadeo had no wish for another punch in the stomach—he inclined his head. ‘I’m sure something can be arranged.’
And something arranged could be unarranged. He had no desire to suffer Elsbeth’s perma-vacuous smile aimed at him over a dinner table unnecessarily for a whole evening. It was always there. Always. His wife must have the strongest cheek muscles in the universe.
‘Where is she?’ Marcelo craned his neck as if he expected her to emerge from the walls.
‘Either in her quarters or waiting for me in our joint reception room, so unless you want me to be late meeting her and then late for our engagement I—’
‘Why isn’t she here with you?’
‘She has her own quarters.’
The silence that followed this wouldn’t normally bother him but, coming from Marcelo, it was unusual. ‘What?’
His brother narrowed his eyes. ‘How much time have you spent with her since the wedding?’
‘Enough.’ More than enough.
‘How much? Clara overheard one of the domestic staff saying you and Elsbeth are leading completely separate lives.’
‘I hope she reprimanded the staff member for spreading gossip,’ Amadeo said sharply.
His brother grunted a laugh. ‘Clara reprimand anyone?’
