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‘Youthinkor you did? Are congratulations in order? Who is the lucky man?’ She could hear the worry in Clem’s voice and tried not to wince.
‘Akil. He’s the Vicomte d’Ortiz, a rising star of the opposition. His father, the Duc d’Ortiz, was one of Papa’s most vocal critics. Our families have been enemies for generations, you know how Asturians can be, but Akil and I are friends of a sort. We have a lot in common. Family honour and expectations and that kind of thing.’
‘Friends of a sort? You’re not even dating? Besides, what do you mean, youthinkyou askedhim to marry you?’
Feeling suddenly overwhelmingly weary, Arrosa tried to find the words to explain how helpful Akil had been in unifying the opposition parties behind the new inheritance law that was due to be ratified at the end of the summer. A law that would change the course of her already restricted life, undoing the primogeniture laws and making her the official heir to the throne.
‘Clem, everyone—my parents, my advisers, the newspapers—have been pushing me to marry,’ she went on, taking another sip of her wine as her stomach knotted with apprehension about the weeks and months and years ahead. ‘To start thinking about an heir of my own. And the country will see me as more settled, more mature if I am married. I don’t like being rushed, but I see the sense in it. The problem is, not only am I single but I don’t see that changing. On the rare occasion I meet someone I like, the whole princess thing scares them off. Queen-to-be is going to make that a hundred times worse.’ She sighed. ‘I like Akil and he understands the court and my world and we have similar ambitions for Asturia... We were talking about what I wanted to achieve as the heir and realised how aligned our goals were, and I suddenly thought, well, he’s the right age, single, understands my world. I could do a lot worse.’ But even as she said the words, she could hear how hollow they were, how defeatist. She wasn’t quite twenty-seven yet. Did she really want to settle, no matter how sensible her choice? Looking at Clem’s expression, she knew her sister was thinking the same thing.
‘Rosy, I think this is something you need to take some time and think about.’ Clem was obviously picking her words with care. ‘Really think about. You need a break. Stay here for a few weeks, Rosy. You know the Cornish air does you good.’
Closing her eyes, Arrosa imagined waking up to the Cornish sun, long walks on the beach and carefree days. ‘I’d love to, but I’m heading back tonight.’ It had been hard enough concealing her movements for this one evening, any longer would be too dangerous.
‘Tonight? Oh, Rosy. You said yourself that you have no meetings.’
‘I don’t, but the speculation if I’m not seen, even from a distance, could be damaging this close to the ratification. I didn’t go anywhere for a couple of weeks when I had flu last year and, according to the tabloids, I was having a facelift, had joined a cult and eloped with a soldier.’ She tried for a laugh, but she knew it was unconvincing and could see Clem’s face crease with concern. ‘I know it’s silly and I shouldn’t care, but it’s not just that I don’t want any rumours circulating at home—eventually the press would find me and then they’d start wondering whoyouare and that’s the last thing you need. It’s safest for you if we’re not seen together, Clem.’
How she hated the subterfuge and lies, wished she and Clem could be sisters openly, but she had spent eight years being the target of press interest and speculation. There was no way she was subjecting her sister to that intrusion.
‘Ifthey find you. After all, why would they look for you here?’ Clem paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. ‘I could go back to Asturia in your place.’
Whathad she just said? Arrosa couldn’t have heard her sister correctly. But Clem had a determined air that Arrosa recognised all too well, one that usually preceded a piece of mischief.
‘You’re serious? Clem, no one wouldeverthink you were me.’
‘Up close, no. But in the back of a car, hair all neat like yours, in your clothes, with those big sunglasses you wear? Why wouldn’t they? People see what they expect to see. We’re the same build and height, the same colouring. And I’m an actress, I can walk like you, hold myself like you. You could have the summer here and I’ll spend it in Asturia making sure the press gets enough glimpses to think you’re busy preparing for the ratification and leaving you free to get some serious relaxation. I talk about my cousin all the time. No one here will think anything of it if we say I’ve got a job and you’re cat-sitting. The only unbelievable part will be that I’ve been cast in anything. I’ll have to claim I ended up on the cutting room floor.’
‘That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. We’d never get away with it.’ But how she wished they could.
‘If you lived in the main castle or had dozens of servants then I agree, it would be impossible...’
‘But I have my own cottage in the grounds of the Palais d’Artega,’ Arrosa said slowly, the idea beginning to take shape. It was crazy and impossible, but she couldn’t help imagining how it might work. ‘People do come in to clean, but not when I’m around. Only Marie is there regularly, but of course she and Henri would need to know if there was any chance of this succeeding...’
Wasthere a chance? Clem was right, she had no appointments, no duties, no meetings for the next six weeks. No one was expecting to see her so who would know she wasn’t actually there if Clem posed as her a couple of times a week in the back of a car? For a moment she allowed herself to visualise it, waking up to freedom, walks in public with no one taking any notice of her. But then reality inserted itself into her dreams. ‘But it would be lonely, Clem. You’d have to be careful that no maids, no gardeners, no staff at all saw you. Some are new but some have been at the Palais since I was a baby. What would you do with yourself?’
‘I’ll make sure the press see Henri drive me around dressed as you, of course, but in between I’ll wear my own clothes, let my hair go back to natural wildness and explore Asturia incognito. I’ve always wanted to go but somehow I never have. It would be a chance for me to see our father too. It’d be easier for him to spend time with me if I’m living at yours. No one would question him visiting you.’
Arrosa took another sip of wine and sat back. Clem no longer sounded speculative or concerned—she sounded hopeful. Arrosa knew how much her sister longed for a real relationship with their father, more so since she’d lost her mother. Zorien was a politician and diplomat first, a family man second and Arrosa wasn’t sure he would ever be what Clem wanted him to be, but her sister deserved the chance to find that out for herself. A few weeks living in Asturia, able to visit Zorien openly, might give her that opportunity.
Another objection occurred to her. ‘But what’s the point of me being here if you aren’t?’ Most of the joy of being in Cornwall was being with Clem.
‘Well, Gus needs feeding for a start. The sea needs swimming in, scones need eating, beaches need walking on, and you need time to be you, not the Crown Princess and future Queen. This gives you that time. And I need a change of scene too. I’ve been putting off making plans for my future, just existing for too long. Maybe some time away will give me some much-needed perspective. You’d be doing me a favour.’
‘Sure,I’dbe doingyouthe favour.’ Arrosa shook her head affectionately at Clem.
‘We’ll do each other a favour. We both need some time away from our lives, so why not swap for a while? Your mother’s not at home, is she?’
‘No, she’s spending the summer on Ischia on a retreat.’
‘Then we’re safe. We could do this. Your call, Rosy. What will it be? Six weeks of avoiding Akil, ducking away from the press and worrying yourself into a shadow, or all the cream teas you can eat and a summer lazing on the beach?’
‘We must be mad to even consider this would work.’ But she couldn’t deny she was tempted.
‘It’s easy enough to swap back if we need to,’ Clem pointed out. Arrosa stared at her for another minute, unable to deny how sorely tempted she was. Not just tempted, she needed this, more than she wanted to admit. Why not agree and see what happened?
‘You’re right. Let’s give it a week and see where we are. Thank you, Clem. Cornwall is just what I need, and I think maybe Asturia is where you need to be as well. To a change of scenery.’ She held up her glass and Clem clinked it with hers.
‘To the princess swap.’
