A Royal Entanglement: The Young Royals Book 2 (5 page)

It had been crime to wake her.
 
She’d looked so relaxed and serene on the sofa, the golden glow of the fire flickering over her pale skin.
 
The quirk of her smile had tugged at me and I’d wanted to press my lips to hers just to know what it would feel like.
 
Looking down into her blue eyes as they had fluttered open made me think all sorts of crazy things like what it would be like to wake up next to her everyday.

I smiled down at her, chasing the troubling thoughts away.
 
I was here to give her bad news, not to fantasise about her.

“Did I wake you?” I asked, and she swallowed before shaking her head.

“I wasn’t asleep,” she said, “Just resting me eyes.”

We shared a look for a moment before I stood up and walked around the sofa to sit opposite her.
 
She sat up and straightened her gown as she seemed to collect herself.
 
I had become intimately acquainted with her little tells, and this one told me she was feeling unsure of herself.
 
Normally I liked putting her on edge, but tonight it just felt wrong, especially with the news I was about to give her.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked when I said nothing.

I leant forward, resting my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands.
 
I dropped my eyes to my hands, trying to find the words and I noticed her bare toes poking out from under her dress.
 
Her toes were painted bright red and it made me smile.
 
She had nice toes.

“Where are your shoes?” I asked like an idiot and her feet disappeared underneath the voluminous skirt.

“Freddie, it’s been a long day,” she said tiredly, “And I’d really love a hot shower and to crawl into my bed, so if you have nothing serious to say…”

I held up my hand, corralling my thoughts and taking a deep breath.

“Sorry,” I said, “I do actually have an important reason for keeping you from
 
your shower and your bed.”
 
I paused to take another breath and exhaled sharply.
 
“There was a visitor to the palace this morning,” I said, “Someone looking for you.”

“For me?” she asked, her eyes going wide, “Did they want to make an appointment to see the Queen?”

I smiled ruefully and shook my head, “No,” I said, “They wanted to see you and I had to do a fair bit of fast talking to convince him not to barge into the halls of the palace and call your name.”

“Him?” she said and the colour drained from her face.

“Bradley Corsair,” I said and watched as she blinked rapidly and her hand went to her throat, her breath hitching.
 
“Your fiancé.”

“Bradley is here?” she asked, her voice breathless and trembling.

I nodded, “And he didn’t seem to have any clue what you did here in the palace or what today was.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed.
 
I could almost hear the doors swinging shut in her mind as she closed off all the emotions I could sense wanted to burst out.
 
Alex was nothing if not controlled.

“Where…” she cleared her throat and tried again, “Where is he?”

“I had Dayne set him up in one of the rooms at my parent’s estate,” I said, watching her carefully.
 
She nodded absently, her mind racing to find a solution to what I knew was a problem.

“Was he… angry?” she asked.

“He was… unsettled,” I said.

And then I witnessed something I never thought I would ever see.
 
Alex crumbled right there in front of me.
 
She seemed to fold in on herself as if someone had removed all the strings that had been holding her up.
 
It was so alarming a thing to witness that I jumped to my feet and was sitting beside her on the couch before I knew what was happening.
 
I put my arm around her and drew her close, laying her head on my shoulder and rubbing her back in soothing circles as she processed what was going on.

She didn’t cry, or make a sound even.
 
Her breath was erratic and patchy and I could see the pulse at her throat flutter madly.
 
She melted into me, boneless, and my heart hurt for her.

I had never seen Alex afraid of anything.
 
She had taken to the job of Queen’s secretary like a duck to water and most of us referred to her as the little general behind her back.
 
She was always poised, always gracious and always in control.
 
Nothing seemed to faze her.
 
Sure my flirting sometimes flustered her, but nothing ever really threw her off her game.
 
Seeing her shut down like this was scary.

Just when I was beginning to worry that I had well and truly broken her and I was formulating a plan to get the hell out of dodge before the Queen found out, she lifted her head.
 
She moved away from me, straightening her dress and tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.
 
She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck and when she opened her eyes to look at me, she was the same old Alex that had sat across from me in meeting after meeting in the previous few months.

“Thank you Freddie,” she breathed, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”

I watched, dumbfounded, as she stood, picked up her shoes and walked from the room.
 
I didn’t know what it meant, I didn’t know if she would even be in the palace tomorrow.
 
Maybe she was planning on doing a runner before anyone knew she was missing.
 
I couldn’t let her do that.

I jumped to my feet and followed her out of the room, but she was already gone and I had no idea which wing of the palace her suite was in.
 
I paced the hallway wondering what the hell to do and hoping against hope that she would still be here in the morning.

I had steadfastly refused to think about Bradley Corsair last night after I left Freddie in the Rose Room.
 
I had developed a very handy lock-box in my brain that allowed me to shut things away so I wouldn’t be distracted by them, and last night I needed sleep.

Now, however, it was time to think about him and the consequences of his being in Merveille.
 
It had been six months since I’d left him at the altar and I’d honestly thought that he wouldn’t come after me.
 
But I had been wrong and now I needed to face the music, as it were.

I dressed carefully.
 
I had to appear professional, aloof, in control.
 
I needed to project a level of calm I didn’t feel.
 
I’d need to apologise, but I wouldn’t beg, and I’d need to hold my ground because there was no way I was going back with him.

I remember my wedding day like it was yesterday.
 
I remember the months I had spent planning it, the hundreds of invitations that had been sent out, the flowers and gifts and the dress.
 
It had all been perfect.
 
I also remember the racing heart, the shortness of breath and the strange tick I developed in my neck and shoulders on that morning.

The feeling of drowning, of not being able to find my feet.
 
The sensation of not having enough oxygen, the tremors in my hands, the
inevitability
of it all.
 
Standing there, looking at myself in the mirror wearing a perfect, haute couture, white satin, off-the-shoulder a-line gown, with not a hint of lace or beading or frou-frou of any kind, my hair in an impeccable chignon and my makeup flawless, I’d suddenly seen my future and it had made me want to throw up.

Everything had been beyond perfection and I had organised the entire day with military precision.
 
I’d even managed to corral my mother, father and two sisters into some form of respectability and they had all been on their best behaviour.
 
The wedding should’ve gone off without a hitch, except for one thing... me.

The marriage was everything I thought I wanted.
 
Bradley was everything I thought I wanted.
 
He was from a respectable family, old money, well-liked in the social circles we mixed with and without a hint of scandal.
 
He was exactly what I needed, what I wanted… but I hadn’t been able to go through with it.

I’d stripped out of my perfect dress, had unwound my impeccable chignon and scrubbed off my flawless makeup and I’d run.
 
I jumped in my car (that had already been packed with my suitcase for the honeymoon) and I’d driven to the airport and taken the first plane out of there.
 
I hadn’t even cared where I was going.
 
By the time the plane had landed in another city, I’d formulated my plan.
 
I’d been offered to interview for the job here in Merveille and, despite the plans to marry, I hadn’t yet turned the offer down (which should have raised some red flags for me) so I made the necessary travel arrangements and flown here as soon as I could.

Now that I look back, the fact that my honeymoon luggage had contained more workwear than vacation wear should have also been a hint at what my subconscious was prompting me, but I’d compartmentalised too much and had missed the signs.

But I couldn’t say I was sorry that things turned out the way they did.
 
I loved living in Merveille; I loved working in the Palace and with Alyssa and Meredith and all the others.
 
I even enjoyed working with Freddie, as much as I tried to deny it.
 
I finally felt like I had found where I belonged and I couldn’t let Bradley destroy that.