The Crown Prince's Bride (Royal Duology 2)

Raoul looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

“You stop trying to shelter them from anything bad, or try to make everything right for them. You did that after mama died and I felt utterly useless. You grab at life, and you live it. And you teach them to live it, and you teach them that you embrace the love and embrace the fear because locking your heart up in a box for safekeeping is no way of living at all.”

Tears formed in Raoul’s eyes and he blinked them away. Sniffed, blinked again. Diego was right. It killed him to admit it. He’d always tried to do everything right, he realized. “After mama died, I tried to be perfect,” Raoul said. He looked out over the palace grounds, so expansive that he couldn’t see where they ended and public land began. Beyond was the capital; inland was another city teeming with people who depended on the Navarros and their government. “I tried to be the best son and brother to spare you and Papa. And then I met Ceci, and

I didn’t have to try so hard. I never wanted you to feel the pain I felt. And when Ceci died, the pain was back and I swore I’d never do it again.”

“I know. And it’s not wrong, Raoul. It’s just that you have to choose which life you want, and live with the consequences. Unless you’re willing to open your heart again, you’re going to lose her forever.” Diego put his hand on Raoul’s shoulder.

He walked away, leaving Raoul alone on the ramparts to think things through.

* * *

Stephani didn’t take much from her desk. There were her special pens, and she was keeping her laptop, so she could work from home if either Sofia or the new assistant, Marcella, needed help. But today was her last day working full time at the palace. She was going to go home, take a week or two’s vacation, and then take it from there. She was planning on spending a little time in Corfu. With all the upheaval lately, the idea of going to her childhood home held a wistful appeal.

She packed the pictures off her desk—ones of Emilia and Max, another of her with Ceci on her cousin’s and Raoul’s wedding day. She touched the glass with a finger and felt tears well up in her eyes. “I tried,” she murmured, her voice catching. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffed, put the photo in the box, and folded over the flaps.

Then, with a heavy weight in her stomach, she went to Raoul’s door and knocked.

“Come in.”

She opened the door and stepped inside. “I just wanted to let you know . . . I’m going now.”

His gaze held hers for a long moment. Then he held out a hand, motioning to a chair. “Please, sit for a minute.”

She did, wanting to leave, wanting to prolong the moment at the same time. Today felt very, very final.

“We’ve been through a lot in this office,” he said quietly. “And you have always, always been an asset to this monarchy and to Marazur.”

“Thank you, Raoul.”

“Don’t thank me for that. Please, don’t. Because while it’s true, I’ve done you such a disservice, Steph. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you.”

She put her hand to her abdomen without thinking. Their child rested there. She was eight weeks along now, not showing, but feeling a change inside her, nonetheless.

“We were friends long before we were lovers. We’ll sort it out. It’s okay.”

He got up from behind his desk, went to her, and as he had once before, moved a chair so he could sit facing her. “It’s not okay. The truth is, I started having feelings for you and I got scared. So scared that I put up roadblocks that didn’t need to exist in order to protect myself. And by doing that, I hurt you.”

She didn’t know what to say, and didn’t quite know where he was going with it, but she also sensed he felt the need to get whatever it was off his chest. Her fingers twisted together in her lap. “What are you scared of, Raoul?”

“Losing you,” he answered simply. “Not like I’ve already lost you, but like I lost Ceci. Afraid of giving you my whole heart only to have it crushed again.”

“But Ceci’s death was an accident. The chances of that happening again . . .”

He paused, then inched a little closer until he could reach out and touch her knees. “My mother died when I was just a boy. I watched my father grieve for her. I listened to Diego cry himself to sleep at night. I decided that I was going to be the best prince I could be. I’d help my father and protect my brother. I fell in love with Ceci and vowed I’d be the best husband. But I lost her, too. Like my mother. And I told myself I would never love like that again.”

“I understand, Raoul. I really do. But I’m not sure how this changes anything.”

Nor would she allow herself to hope. He wasn’t the only one who’d been hurt, after all.

“I’ve spent the last few weeks doing a lot of soul searching.” He took his hands off her knees, but rested his elbows on his own so that he was leaned toward her. “I’ve thought about the kind of king I want to be. The kind of father I want to be. I’ve thought over and over about some things Diego said to me, because my little brother has grown up far wiser than anyone gives him credit for. And the truth is . . . I have a choice. I can choose to be afraid, to keep my heart under lock and key, to never get hurt again, and to never experience pure joy.”

Her pulse began to hammer, despite her resolve to stay unmoved.

“Or I can open myself up to loving again, take a risk by knowing life sometimes deals us horrible blows, but accept that a chance at joy and happiness is worth it.”