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I just want life to go back to the way it was before.
I fear that’s no longer possible.
“Yes, Frederick?”
“His Highness Prince Gabriel is here to see you.”
Closing the book I’ve been reading, I slowly push to my feet. “Can you prepare tea for us in the garden room?”
“Certainly, ma’am.” He bows, then disappears into the hallway.
“I won’t be too long,” I tell Tristan as he’s about to stand.
“You don’t want me to come?”
“He just finished up intensive steroid treatment and I want to be able to talk to him about how he’s doing. I know you get along with my brother, but I worry—”
“He won’t be as forthcoming if there’s a third wheel, so to speak.”
“I’m sorry.” I smile sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t pick up on the fact thatI’mthe one who doesn’t want a third wheel so I can talk freely with my brother.
“Don’t be.” Standing, he pulls me into his arms and places a soft kiss on my forehead. “I understand. Just don’t be gone too long.”
“I won’t,” I promise, then slip out of my suite, grateful to have a brief reprieve from him.
I’ve never felt this way. I’ve always craved his presence.
I tell myself it’s natural to be a little off after the past few days. That the fact I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Creed since I watched him walk out of my apartment is simply because he saved my life. Because he was there for me when I needed him the most.
When I step into the garden room, Anderson rushes toward me, crushing my body against his.
“I’ve never been so happy to see you before,” he whispers through the audible lump in his throat.
“I’m happy to see you, too,” I tell him as I bask in his warmth.
“All I can think is that should have been me.”
“I don’t think it would have been,” I say before I can stop the words from falling from my mouth.
Pulling back, he tilts his head, giving me a quizzical look.
All things considered, he looks pretty good. A lot less rundown than I was expecting, especially since he spent the past several days in the hospital. Maybe that’s a good thing, though. Maybe it means he’s responding to this course of steroid treatment better.
“What do you mean?”
On a long sigh, I head toward the small table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Anderson following close behind.
Normally, I’d be able to look outside and see the vibrant colors of the courtyard gardens, the flowers in full bloom. This time of year, everything’s gone to sleep for the winter, the shrubs and lawn sporting a fresh dusting of snow.
The second we’re seated, my butler re-emerges with a tray. He sets a teapot in the center of the table, along with a platter containing various cakes and cookies. He pours my tea first, preparing it how I like it, then does the same for Anderson.
“Is there anything else I can get you, ma’am?”
“That’ll be all.”
“Certainly.” He bows toward us, then retreats, closing the door behind him.
“You don’t think that guy was targeting you specifically, do you?” Anderson presses once we’re alone. “The police claim it was political, since the guy was a staunch anti-monarchist.”
